I have a good life, I believe. Some other's...weaker people...may think otherwise. And that's not saying that I'm all powerful, and so much better then you. No. Most people couldn't go through what I've been, and the other's in my family, and made it out as sane as we have. But I've taken that, and worked with it. Worked with what I have. And I think I made a good ending to one chapter. I know...and this is the sad part...that this isn't over. Just because I'm done moving (twice), done moving schools, done with my grandfather being sick, then dying, done with my dad moving away, my parents getting devorced, never seeing my dad, besides three times a year if I'm lucky, dealing with depression, and bipolar, doesn't mean its over yet. This all happened over the course of two years. Two. Years. I lived a full long life in those two years. Technically....I should be around forty, for how my brain works. Yeah, I'm smart. I should be getting all A+ in my class's. But I'm not motivated. The depression puts it into my head 'hey...who the ******** cares?' And no. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I'm fine. I've got things working out for me. I've got a circle of friends I'm damn lucky to have. And I'm building another, in a different school. I am a damn lucky person. I'm smart, and I just need to get my a** in gear to work for it, as my father say's. I agree with him...for once. You see...my father and I used to not get along so well. We're practically the same person. Sounds like we should get along like a dream, right? Nope. We have the same personality. Which means you'd have better luck getting a donkey to do your bidding, then to get one of us to do it. We're both hardheaded, hardassed, and tough as hell. Put us together in a fight, and one of us is going to get in trouble. And me being the kid...well you can see who gets the raw end of the deal. My dad is 6'4. With the body of a pro wrestler. It come's naturally to him. And now he works out. I've never thought anything of it. I'm used to it. But for any of my friends, if they had all of his 6'4, 300 pounds leaning over them, screaming at them, they would quite litterally burst into tears. While I would scream back. Stupid, right? I can't help it. I'm a moron. I love my dad. And my dad protects me from people by just standing there in his loose jeans, red shoes, hard acid metal band shirt with the sleaves cut from the side of the ribs, and up to the shoulders, arms crossed, mouth set in a hard line, hat backwards, sunglasses covering his eyes. And this is his normal pose. I told him before, how freaking terrifying he could be, and he smiled. My dad is the nicest person out there. But he hates people. He freaking does. He only likes his friends, and family. Anyone else 'can go die in a ******** hole' as he say's. Well, and his children's friends too. He loves my friends. He say's they make him laugh. Especially Sophi, and Sydney. When we're together. You see? My life is good. I like it. Although the scars on my wrist may say other wise, but that's the bipolar. I...don't think straight when I'm upset. Impulsive. That's the word. I'm impulsive. I'm also Taylor. That'll never change.
Hi, Im sorry, this was the only place I found to reply. PMs are set to friends, and your comments are covered by pictures.
Important info: Set, Horus, and Ra are Egyptian. Aphrodite was the only Greek one that you listed. Isis, though, is a name shared by the Greeks and Egyptians.
