As far as I can recall, I remember way back when I was five years old. Where my mother told me, for the first time that I can remember, my name. I was minding my own business on how else can I strangle a snake until I've noticed, or rather had the sh*t knocked out of me, when she shouted.
Well, I have to admit it wasn't entirely my fault. Why did the zookeeper left the door open in the first place? Of course a five-year-old kid would end up sneaking into that forbidden place. I was only admiring the, as I recall, a 6-foot off-white boa. Nothing wrong in admiring a boa right? Nothing wrong in stroking its' leathery, scaly skin right? Nothing wrong in ending its' screwed up life living in a prison-like zoo right? I mean, why does this wild animal have to endure such humiliation? Why should we enjoy the grief of others? Are we THAT superior?
After the quick run back through the door, and after being scolded through and through. I finally realized the danger, or rather the danger bit me in the ass. I realize that I shouldn't quietly sneak into a roomful of snakes when my family is around. Just when my family isn't around.
As it was the past. I tend to remember it as often as I can. I could never have another moment like that again. Seeming that I can't even have a family to call my own. Let's just say it's broken and I've been trying to mend it ever since. Time takes its toll on the broken pieces and I can't even tell which is which. One gigantic sigh later, I'll start all over again. It's not just me who's doing all this. I know that there are others who try too. Hopefully, everything would work out sooner or later.
Lately I've been feeling depressed. Hell, whenever else do I NOT feel depressed? But, I digress. Lately, I've feeling depressed just cause of looking back in my past life. It's seems that I've been living another life back then. Rather, I've been living a whole other life now. Back then, well, 9 years ago. I was one of the most foul creatures ever. Back then I've always looked at myself as a MAN. A MAN who would conquer everything he touches. I even had an evil laugh. I've done so much, vices I mean. Liquor, dope, little pills that make you happy. But those are just a tip of the iceberg.
I've gone through from arsonist to (VERY CLOSE TO) first degree murder. Can't say that I'm a rapist. Seeming that the women I've bedded are always consentious. I've never heard a single complaint, either that or I just didn't want to hear any complaints. I don't think it's a good idea to divulge everything I've done back then. Seeming that sooner or later, one of the women, or men I've whacked, are going to end up reading this. So, I'll leave it as it is.
Well, as of now. I think I should be grateful that I'm still alive. I should count my blessings for only when I'm alive, only then I can atone for my sins. No matter how many thousands, or millions. I can still atone for my sins.
However I try to cope things about life... or death for that matter. I'll always end up being frustrated with regret. I tend to regret about things that I should have done. Sometimes, I even regret about things that I didn't do. All in all, it just adds up to more and more until I became morose with suicidal tendencies.
But, there's more to life than I have ever imagine. Like having friends and love ones. Families that will stick with you through thick and thin. Even the littlest of things. Like flowers and teddy bears.
I should then, to live my life as how I see fit. Even if it is filled with regret and hatred. My pasts are my pasts. There's nothing that can be done to change it. Unless I build myself a time machine. Well, I know that I cannot run away from these distraught memories. I know that it will etch itself, burn its' images, voices, noises... All into my mind. The emotions mixes with the mental sanity.
God! How does one handle, cope with these unsettling emotions? Such raw, relentless emotions!?
How in the world does ANYONE take into account their feelings!? Their tainted, bloodied feeling!?
Dear God! Give me S.o.M.e.T.h.I.n.G! ANYTHING!... Just to aid my aching, rotting, putrid soul! Please! Let Me HEAL!!!
........................... I need a smoke.
Woah, after years of being nagged for blogging by colleagues, close friends, relatives and even enemies. I've finally... Finally did a blog.
I've always wondered on what to actually blog about. So, basically... I'm a newbie. Hopefully, someone would help me out in terms of blogging in this spot.
Anyway, seeming it's a Monday, and a first week of July. I really ponder on how time flies by. It sure is fast. Maybe I should start by telling people what I mean by 7sticks.
Simple enough. 7sticks means the seven cigarette sticks in my little leather case. Accompanied by a black metallic finish zippo.
How does this relate to my blogging. Well, it's just is. I just pop a stick, lit it up and presto! Ideas come gushing in like frantic white water rapids.
Who am I?
Where I work?
What I do for fun?
It seems that there is so much to write, but when it comes down to it. It just dissipates. Like sugar disolving in coffee. So, when I do have more to share. Or maybe some little dark secrets. Or just some clear, typical, goody-two-shoes blogging. I'm sure that I can always come back here.