Welcome to Gaia! ::

I really wish I could bring myself to format. Anyway, my life story:


I was born in 1986, as an only child. I was mentally hungry and consumed at least double my weight in knowledge per day. I was an early walker, talker, everything. I've never slept adequately, 'racing thoughts' or something. I wanted to be a visual artist for years or an astronaut or a paleontologist for years. My father died in a car accident when I was three years old. My mother and I moved into a small council flat that wasn't double-glazed, but there were plenty of children my age close by that I befriended. Funny thing is, my first real memory is the day we moved into that flat.

The son of the old man next door (now forever known as my grandad) moves in and my mother accidentally falls pregnant with my brother (a very happy accident for everyone) and he is born in late 1990. We move into a house around the corner that faces the primary school I attended. I can see my old room from my bedroom window at this new place and that's where I am right now, looking across the allotment.

My mother and my brother's father go their seperate ways after not really being well-matched. He remains in my life and my brother's up until I hit the teenage years and can't bear to be around adults. My brother stops going over when the drinking and arguing get too much (his father never had a chance after inhereting his mother's depression [which ended in her taking her own life], his father's alcoholism and being confined to a lowest of the low boarding school as a youth). My brother's father marries later and has a daughter with his wife, now separated. His drinking gets worse and he's overcome by extremely severe depression. He now lives alone.

In 1994 my mother gives birth to my sister with my stepfather, whom she has known since we moved into the flats (he lived in the same block with his second daughter and previous wife). Eventually he moves in, the logistics not being ideal seeing as we are now a six-strong family. My stepsister is a compulsive liar and my stepfather is prone to being in a rage about whatever (I hasten to add that he has never been physically violent towards anyone) and seems to not really know how to be a father.

Around 1998/99 I discover BMX and music simultaneously. At this point my previous genius has disappeared as I do the teenage thing of trying to fit in. I still feel like I want to be in the visual arts at this point. I spend all my time listening to H2O, Clutch, etc. and/or riding with friends. Around the tail end of this I end up in hospital school after poor attendance at my regular school and sort of diagnosed with ME/CFS. I still don't know how much of this period was real, as later in life I suffer with depression which was probably the case back then. I make some great friends at hospital school and find some kind of identity. It obviously helps that by this point girls are tripping over themselves to get at me. I have my first couple of girlfriends at this point, one of which is still a good friend.

I end up doing the minimum of my final exams at school and have realised I will never be a great visual artist so concentrate on music and writing (another pastime I'd been doing through the years). I attend the college at my secondary school and everything seems fine. Sooner rather than later I slip back into old habits and anxiety means I miss a load of lessons and never really connect with anyone. I start smoking pot by the barrowful (this is probably the reason I still smoke cigarettes today) and drop out of college. My new friends are in the same boat and it seems exciting for a bit. I probably form my first band this year.

One of these friends gets me a job at the local convenience place and I meet my next girlfriend there. Most night shifts are spent outside smoking, then we leave the shop and get stoned or drunk until we can't stay awake any more. After a year or so the manager starts talking about management training. I leave the job before this really gets going because of constant harassment from a large travelling family, gunpoint robberies, physical assault and the dredgery of working retail.

I start out repairing sport racing boats and finish every day covered in fibreglass dust and with low self-esteem. Me and the girlfriend split up and I mope for probably six months (although it seems not so bad in retrospect). I play my first gigs around now with Ghosts, which keeps me mentally buoyant through the working week. I end the job two years later after being kept on a s**t wage for the entire time and subject to complete abuse from my bosses and co-workers. I cite a family death as a reason to take two weeks off and phone up on the third week to call my boss a c**t and tell him I'm never coming back.

More later...

On the first computer I built I kept a running tally on how many times I reformatted (cause mostly due to me ******** around trying to 'tweak' windows my way in highschool)

Infact, while writing this post, I looked in my old photobucket to see if I could find a picture of it, with SUCCESS!




In all its 1.4 AMD Thunderbird glory.

Man that case got beat up.

I know I know... That was like my sophomore year of highschool, nearly 7 years ago! Give me a break.

All of your lives are so much more interesting than mine. I will, however, type up a semi-lengthy story about my childhood and recent times.

I was born in 1990. My childhood seemed normal enough. My parents decided to buy a house with no driveway or backyard, so I was always deprived of space. All of the kids my age in the neighborhood were Black and or Hispanic, so I never really went out to play with them. School always came naturally. I coasted through grade school, and was pretty much a normal kid.

My father was an alcoholic throughout the majority of my childhood, and the very beginning of high school. I never really realized, due to being so young and generally care free about the world and life itself. He was harmless, but I never built a real relationship with him (or my mother for that matter), so I never really had anyone that I could talk to as a child. He hated his job, and life (and is still bitter about it to this day, even after retiring).

When I was in seventh grade, my ("favorite") cousin hanged himself in his backyard. He had been doing drugs, and depressed (a fact that out parents hid from us (me and my sister) to keep us from "thinking differently of him"). But yeah. I wasn't really affected outwardly, but his death would later mean a lot more to me.

I went to an all guys private high school. It could have been worse, could have been better. I was mainly an annoying, partially anti-social kid through my first three years of high school. I always had friends, but never really cared for and/or identified with any of them (save one or two). I was decently popular among all of the social groups that formed, but never really picked one to stay in. This was obviously a hindrance to my social development, but at the time I really didn't care. I didn't drink, nor thought that I ever would in my life, just due to my father's past failures. I've since revised that opinion (although only last year, my first year of college).

Essentially, according to my current standards, I was a worthless, ignorant child. I didn't know how to treat people. I didn't know what I wanted or how to get it. I got into NYU, BC, and Penn-State after applying for schools. They didn't want to give me enougn scholarship money, so I chose to stay home and go to school and the University at Buffalo (which, in hindsight, might have been the best thing for me). When I started, I was just your typical, lazy college student. I breezed through my first semester with A's, went to parties, and all that normal s**t. It was boring. I was bored.

DRAMA OCCURS.

LOVE OCCURS.

I LEARN A BUNCH OF s**t THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT MYSELF.

LIFE GOES ON.

I HAVE WEIRD DREAMS.

I AM CORRECTED BY REALITY.

THE END.

But yeah, enough about me. I'm not that interesting. This has happened to all of us in some way.

Whoa Jesus I can type a lot about myself. Narcississtic, moi? I hope not.

I won't tell my story. I did reformat an external drive the other night though. It's no Glyph but so far it's the s**t.

Really though. I think the biggest lesson that anyone can learn in their lives is that in a couple of months they probably won't be able to relate to themselves. We're always changing, whether for the better or not. The most exciting thing about life is how unpredictable it is, even in the most controlled and calculated situations.

Self-awareness, patience, and determination are the only skills you need to become great.