Life Ain't What It Seems.

So, I wake up today, and my mom tells me she saw my Youtube videos. If you don't know by now, I have comedy videos on Youtube. Anything from play-on skits to short rants full of censored raunchiness. I enjoy making people laugh, and I always come up with ideas for comedies, so I figured I'd try them on Youtube and see where it gets me. I mean, at the end of the day, it's comedy. It's just fun and jokes. I like to enjoy life, or, rather, I WANT to enjoy life. Now, mind you, my mother is a "holier than thou" Christian. Not only that, but an Extremist, and of course, the cliche`, contradicting, hypocrite Christian. My whole life she's done nothing, but criticize me (Like Christians), denounce me in the "name of Jesus" (Like Christians), attempt to point out my flaws and knowingly deny her own (Like Christians) and so forth. Not once has she actually been a "mother" to me, besides times when she was actually cool, and when she wanted something from me. All my life, all she ever did was build me up, and break me down. As if I'm a human construction site, for her to send her wrecking ball of wrath and discontent with life at. She's always treated me like crap, and at one point, I had to accept that, that's how it's going to be for the rest of my life. Or, until I can escape this mental prison. She's manipulated me, with dreams, and high hopes; Fallacies that would never become true. I am nothing more than a puppet, that knows the truth behind her actions, but due to unfortunate situations and circumstances, I have no choice but to unwillingly abide by them. For years, it's been the same cycle. Her abusing me, and kicking me out. Yes, I was abused as a child. There is a difference between discipline, and outright abuse. I was taken from her when I was one, due to negligence. I have many stories, like the one time she chased me all around the city, and I had nothing on but shorts, a shirt, and socks. Not even shoes on my feet. Laying in a cold puddle, late at night, crying myself to sleep, because she put me out. All of the times, I ran to the police station, battered and bruised, and she coaxed the officers into an apocryphal saga about how much she does for me, and they put me right BACK in the home. All of the times she told me I was going to a shelter. I know what you're thinking. "Well, what did YOU do?". I can only say this: My mother is a person who isn't pleased with anything. It's too hot, it's too cold, it's too much a little of both (Lukewarm). She is one of the many people, who like to nitpick, and complain just because they apparently love to hear themselves talk, or they feel the need to judge people, to make them feel better about themselves. She says she is a Christian, and a worshiper of the father. What father? Satan? Ha! She's one of those close-minded Christians who treat people any kind of way, and then tries to outweigh it with "good deeds" and a redemption prayer at the end of the day. She will treat a person on the streets better than me. She only does good things because of her fear of damnation and wreckage. If there were no ramifications for doing what you want, I'd doubt she'd do half of the things she does. Why does she hate me so much?

I never had my father, or a father figure around. No older brothers, no one to look to for guidance and/or consolation.

MMA & Hot Chocha

So after I played some vigorous matches of Yugioh! Decade Duels on XBOX, I fell asleep in my queen sized bed, a realer nigga than I was the previous night. Anyways, I'm a real nigga, so I don't dream, I just wake up and CAKE UP, but I decided to put my brain on "pilot" mood, and let it have a couple minutes of recess, ya' heard me.

I dreamed I was at a college. In Brooklyn. No, it wasn't LIU, BK College, Kingsborough, SVU, etc etc. It was just a college. Anyways, I hit up these girls, and they were going to come through. I had pulled some on campus, and then I hit up this OTHER chick that wanted to chill with me, and told her to come through. This was around, 11pm. Anyways, I left the dorm for whatever reason, and I could NOT find my way back to my room. At one point, I went into the wrong room, and took the hard drive out of this TV box or something for whatever reasons. The White dude was like "Yo, that's mine!", and I replied "So? You can't beat me" and walked away. THEN, I went into ANOTHER room, took another one, and some White dude with a girl came in, and he was like ".....Wassup", to which I replied "What's good", and then left as they looked at me like "WTF.....".

Anyways, I ended up going ALL OVER the school, from the bottom to the top, and I could not find the dorms! I went outside, and saw that my aunt's van was crashed into another car, so I tried to call my mom (We're holding the van right now), but she wouldn't answer. Then I saw a crowd, and some big dude beating the crap out of some other dude. Then he was like "Who wants some? You!?" and ran after me, and I ran LMAO. I'm not too proud of it, cause I'm a real nigga, but I wasn't trying to fight in a dream. Any nigga that fights in dreams don't care whether he lives or dies, and doesn't have a father around.