I think I have tried to find the time, words and effort to do entries like this.
Sometimes I ask myself how different my life would have been in the past and presently if what I thought I had, a normal life, was a reality for me. Should it be a surprise to anyone that because of my exclusive life, which I could believe to be a lie, has made me but touched others as well? I mean, it is a lie, frankly. But it is a truth in the respect that that is how it is.
What do I mean by exclusive? I was born in to a life that could have had great things in store for me if I had of cooperated. But, that doesn't make life, right? Okay, what I mean is expecting someone to have an obligation to live how you want to them to. Well, I can find comfort in knowing that my parents always accepted me. They have been excellent providers. If anything they didn't like about me I didn't know, they kept it to themselves. The time I told my mother,"I am bi-sexual". She said nothing really as her reaction but I think I know she still loves me because she provides for me still. Is love too strong of a word? Like? She likes me?
It actually isn't fair. People might think I'm lucky but I'm not really. I'm not blessed? Blessed? I hate the word. Privileged? We should have known our place instead of trying to fulfill with faith some kind of belief in a religion that never accepted my father, that never should and is something on more thought I should never need.
There is a former past life of my father that I don't know. I never knew. My nature is to do alot of guesswork but without probably himself telling me, I will have no certainty. I know that.
I know life would have been different without these outsiders coming in from going as far back as the sixties and from there, slowly developing their plans for my family. Their intrusive and unnecessary influence of those outsiders didn't start in 2003. It didn't start in 1988. It didn't start back until earlier due to a righteous claim of money and power for their empire that is part of the bigger picture of who they are. Al Capone used to think he was doing public good with his murderous life of crime.
How do I live? You, the reader, will know I have a mental illness. And, when I am alone, I am a very mentally unwell man. But not only do I have to cope with my mental unwellness, also anger. I get angry. Once I got angry so quickly after I felt boiling blood rush to my head. Now, why do you think that is? That isn't normal. Three issues. The continuous music that plays in my head, the conspiracy and this anger. Well, the two points in that last sentence are part of the conspiracy. The same conspiracy I have been talking about after I founded this blog. Without them, life would be normal for me. It wouldn't be so hard. Because it isn't and never was, it could go so far to make up an explanation for other things that have happened.
What more can I say? I am unwell physically as well. I could have only a couple of years left. But don't be distressed by that, because I and nobody else knows that for sure.