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00sheven · 4 years

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real horror show.

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my last post got me thinking of the old days. since I dont really have anything new to talk about, ill talk about this. you'll get posts like this from time to time. it's just random shit that crosses my mind during the day, or night when I'm suffering a mind full of racing thoughts taking me in 30 directions at once.

once upon a time.

going back to my past. at this point it seems like a millions years ago. I closed this chapter in my mid 20's

I was angry and I had no conscience and I was strung out. I started at an early age. I was barely in my double didgets when I committed my first burglary. I did it alone.

my friends and I in gulfport used to sneak out in the middle of the night. we used to rob a candy truck up the street from where I lived. at the end of one summer we were so burned out on candy we threw trash bags of it away. one of my friends and I robbed a houses while the people in it were asleep. we almost got caught.

there used to be a lady that lived up the street. she was married. she used to let us come over to her house and feel her up. her husband came home once and my friend and I had to hide in the closet.

I got drunk and smoked my first joint with those guys.

by the time I was in my mid teens I was hanging out with older people doing any kind of dope I could find.

me and my friends in anahiem were breaking into cars and stealing bikes to get money for drugs. at this point I pretty much stopped going to school.

one night I was walking across the park going to meet my friends when I was confronted by two guys who were really angry at me.

one was yelling at me and the other was standing off to the side. out of the blue he hit me in the face with something. I found out later they were nunchucks. when I regained consciousness there was some girl yelling at them.

turns out a week or so before that my friends and I were under the influence of pcp and some of the older tougher guys started shit with them. I didnt remember because I was lit. but they remembered me.

I was sent to live with my dad in Washington. my mom had enough of me so I moved from anahiem. I was going to be put in "a private school" (placement) for a year while my dad went out to sea. I was supposed to live with him in Jacksonville florida when he got back. he died in transit while we were visiting relatives in kansas for the hollidays.

after about a month my mom picked me up and we went to texas where this school was. I was 16 at the time.

the goose's age.

I was there under a year. I escaped with a friend and hitchhiked to California.

chino

my mom had remarried and moved to chino while I was in Washington and texas.

I moved in with them in the summer of 85.

I didnt live there long. I moved in with a friend and lived in his closet. i used to get high with most of my friends parents. we didnt have to go to school.

I started hanging with the local punks.

I joined a local gang and started going to shows and parties. lots of fights lots of violence.

I remember going to a back yard party in hacienda heights. it was a set up. I got jumped by at least 10 dudes. my friend almost had his throat cut. it was the first time I was shot at.

most of the key members of that gang (middle class kids) graduated high school and went off to college.

a couple of the guys and I went to college too.

we joined another gang from L.A., one that had been around. one that has a reputation. it was the real thing. I did that for about a year or so and decided to get out. I was dealing with being broke and homeless. plus a few months after I got out I had some drama with them. it bums me out to think about it.

after that I took a step back. my chino friends were serious enough. there was a lot of drugs and girls and drugs and parties and drugs... well you get the picture.

I was probably 23 or 24 now.

I had played guitar since I was in my early teens.

a friend offered me a job playing bass in thier band.

a couple of years after that my sister had moved in with my mom with my neice who was maybe 2 or 3 at that time. everyone worked so they needed some to watch her during the day.

it got me off the street.

it was a wild ride, I had to at the very least live 5 to 6 lifetimes in that time period.

of course this is the barest of minimums as far as cliff notes go.

I look on it with mixed emotions. sometimes I'm proud of it.

i look back on those days with a longing. I had power, money, sometimes. most of the time I didn't need it. my family took care of me.

I feel that way when on the rare occasion I speak to some of them. it's kind of like one of those psycho conversations you hear in mob movies when they are talking about horrific shit and laughing and reminiscing like it was an old football game.

did I hurt people. yes.

sometimes I just cringe thinking about it.

at the very least I know what I'm capable of doing. good and bad.

I know my darkside very well.

I am not my past.

I am not that person.

but it made me who I am today.

and I accept it.

I think it made me a better person because I have a unique understanding of poverty, violence' self medication, anger.

dont judge. you weren't in my shoes. you didnt have to live through it. well I take that back there are a couple of you that read this that were there.

I'm not trying to glorify it.

the only reason I'm posting it is because it illustrates some of my background so you as a reader can get to know me better.

isn't that the point.

its record of my time.

here's a song that reminds me of those days.

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Running away, something better ahead

But you gotta think fast before it's too late

Just one cut around your head

Just one minute and you'll call me dead

You better watch out for the razors in the night

You better leave out the razors in the night

Backstreet boys wear boots and braces

Razor blades and angry faces

Too much tension, too much fear

What the hell are we doing here

Murder is the biggest prize in sport

Cause violence is the only game you've been taught

A pool of warm blood is your prize

Or a cold blade across your eyes.

if you would like a taste of the 80's as far as the L.A. punk scene went (which was riddled with gang violence) check out this book. keep in mind we all knew each other back in those days ( and if you didn't know the person personally you knew at least 10 if their friends) when it was for real.

one of my favorite jokes is "I was punk rock when it was called HEY FAGGOT.

believe me it was not the popular choice when I got into it. you were hated, and beaten up. now it's just a phase kids through. a fashion trend. it is everything that was despised when it started.

I wasn't in LMP either.

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41020

a clockwork orange bedroom scene beethoven

blitz razors in the night

discos out murders in trailer.

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