me.
In majority. I have been always discriminated against in every definition of the means.
In all majority, people have not been so nice. Especially those who claim to be for me like the "black community", "lunatic parents", "dead inside teachers and professionals" or any " religious sect" or "baptist leader". The torture has been so painful, one does not want to waste time talking about the past. But it is necessary to talk about it to move into the future.
My ideals started off with good intentions, make friends, care about these friends, help friends, accomplish our dreams and not to die young. I also had the impression that society always cared about people's goals and reasons. That life was always grand for any woman and man.
I was truly living lies. Nor did the environment foster my own development into a story teller, if anything the tv stations hooked tv shows around like drugs, if you had no money you couldn't receive. So for the majority, I was without proper training for what I wanted to but that did not stop me.
Life had barely begun when I decided that these ideals were wrong and faded. Of course, at the time of 4th grade, I had acquired " friends" but did they invite me to their party or whatever, did we stay in touch after the 5th. No, the truth is I was starting to see at that point that I was living a lie. My parents for their idiotic means who were callous and cruel and had turned my childhood experiment into cutting my hair a mainstay and a means to incite terrors, started talking down to me once I entered fifth grade because they want to completely control the experience and have an environment of fear as if to make someone have good grades or else they would face punishments. I will never forget the times I had to wait so long outside the fifth grade school for one to arrive to pick me up. The embarrassment was beyond cruelty and this is also the time they started to shun my work.These unjustices I will never forget nor ever forgive. Nor will they get away to live some merry lives, if I have to personally make the rest of their fucked lives hell, I will. They deserve no forgiveness and I would say they don't deserve to live at all.
Because of their non support and pure hatred of me, which was explored through the terrible years of 6th to 8th grade. I had trouble getting out my ideals, I lived in constant fear-I felt like a criminal within my own house. This was not right and yet their vermin had the guts to smile about it. These monsters are ones that should face constant public humiliation and not one thing short of a painful death.
But in the end of eight grade and the 9th I had enough of all this fuckery this world had to offer.
I was constantly searching for love. I had many crushes yet no one liked me at all. No one respected me, hell I was most made fun of and even mocked by teachers. Especially in 6th grade.
It makes me laugh how contrast reality here is compared to the set of ideals they want people to believe reality is like. But truly the world is filled with undead people. People who are only willing to be mediocre slaves and not chase after developing their selves or talents. Much could be said for the so called" black community" which to me only means a group of sad bastards profiting off the system of racism and degrading others who fit their descriptions. Of course, no one says it, everyone is too scared to say what they really mean. But all black pride is, a system, an ideal created by them to say that black people are without pride and should pledge away what makes them them to fit the ideal of a black person.
The year of the 9th grade was very significant because I was even more motivated to better my life.
I wrote down all my ideas and did that for a time until I was to go to college. The big problem was how to do the deed. The badgers of evil, the government and my parents included amongst other people were of no help to find my path to drawing real comics. I survived a worst faith than those 13 and so years of public school combined. At first I focused on school but I then realized that live is short and that I should focus on find the way to making my comics reality. Because in the year of the 11th grade I had a trouble of great concern. A great pain like never before came about and only the reversing of the near end of the colon that had twisted onto itself could fix the pain.
But I decided ever since then, that I had to work harder than before to make my dreams true.
I finished my ideals and rewrote some and basically found my self being threatened by my own parents for simply being me. They threatened to kick me out. They hate my very essence and being but loony toons like the many fucks that exist in this world who need to painful did, they think they have some type of power.In the coming months I started to find a visual solution but the semester ended and over christmas break, I got sick because really the house I live in is full of things to make you sick. Not even the overgrown children who graduated from college to basically do nothing but become scream posts for some savages and damn zombies for groups that really don't suite their best interest. They live in fear. This fear is internal. This fear tells them that living elsewhere and providing for theirselves would be too hard. But I had enough of this bullshit. I did not care anymore, I was going to find the visual solution and become rich off of it.
I returned to college mostly sick and in too much pain to even go to sleep. So I used this to my advantage, I stayed up until my classes and continued to work on the solution through the blog I conceived the previous semester called MK MZODERN. First that site was for kicks and news but then I used it to develop new thought processes and methods. It became my highest viewed blog and I even started to make money off it. I wrote a series of songs but what was I trying to do?
I was trying to find a better way to make comics and methods I developed while there lead to the development in the august of that year when I had failed out of college.
It was a dark time, but there was the opportunity to reach the goal and through torture, discrimination and many times of loneliness and seeing how desperate people really are-I finally reached my goal.
I went to community college and had to fight these nasty fuckers I call my parents to get off my case.
I only passed one class that one semester. But I accomplished many series that I couldn't have done before without my new method. Over the months and as I finally succeeded in the next round of college and accomplishing the base for more comics adding the total up to 21-I came to realize that I was actually slowly dying. I created a projected called Cosmica, that was supposed to endear all my previous projects and characters and was to feature songs as well but around the time of working on this, I fell ill and the horrible pain returned. I stayed in a hospital for a week and at times in a lot of pain, but I used this time to restore myself. Then I came to a conclusion, my life was truly guided on principles for world that was not there. I had no friends. I can say no family either. Because even though it was my parents who brought me there. It was these same monsters trying to bash in my head and act up because of their hatred for who I am. I didn't fail for their acting nice charm like the last operation and I used my recovery time to think up new ideals, work on smaller comics, finish Cosmica part one and create new methods. I also created and finished a new book. Adding the total of comic projects up to 22.
In every regard, I realize I was totally alone.Not one person knew about my ordeal and I can tell you that hardly none or any of my facebook friends would even give a glance or a fuck about me. I was not one of those guys who even posted shit on my personal health status. Because you know what. No one would give a damn. The last time this happened I posted what happened and all I heard was crickets, however there was one person who is not like this world. Who was kind and generous and wished me well. I was so touched because I thought things like this only happened in tv and movies and not in this cold hearted world that we live in.
Many things have happened after I finished the last project. But I decided to finally start on one project in its final phase and so far, I have only got 4 serials done out of a 100. However, this is a process you can not rush but feel. And I will feel all the way to my dreams, because I have come up with a super weapon that will not even allow a society like this to even exist any longer. And that's as much as I am willing to explain about myself even though some is not understandable or seems jumbled. In truth, I am only writing this for my own mental health and no one else. the fucking end.
In all majority, people have not been so nice. Especially those who claim to be for me like the "black community", "lunatic parents", "dead inside teachers and professionals" or any " religious sect" or "baptist leader". The torture has been so painful, one does not want to waste time talking about the past. But it is necessary to talk about it to move into the future.
My ideals started off with good intentions, make friends, care about these friends, help friends, accomplish our dreams and not to die young. I also had the impression that society always cared about people's goals and reasons. That life was always grand for any woman and man.
I was truly living lies. Nor did the environment foster my own development into a story teller, if anything the tv stations hooked tv shows around like drugs, if you had no money you couldn't receive. So for the majority, I was without proper training for what I wanted to but that did not stop me.
Life had barely begun when I decided that these ideals were wrong and faded. Of course, at the time of 4th grade, I had acquired " friends" but did they invite me to their party or whatever, did we stay in touch after the 5th. No, the truth is I was starting to see at that point that I was living a lie. My parents for their idiotic means who were callous and cruel and had turned my childhood experiment into cutting my hair a mainstay and a means to incite terrors, started talking down to me once I entered fifth grade because they want to completely control the experience and have an environment of fear as if to make someone have good grades or else they would face punishments. I will never forget the times I had to wait so long outside the fifth grade school for one to arrive to pick me up. The embarrassment was beyond cruelty and this is also the time they started to shun my work.These unjustices I will never forget nor ever forgive. Nor will they get away to live some merry lives, if I have to personally make the rest of their fucked lives hell, I will. They deserve no forgiveness and I would say they don't deserve to live at all.
Because of their non support and pure hatred of me, which was explored through the terrible years of 6th to 8th grade. I had trouble getting out my ideals, I lived in constant fear-I felt like a criminal within my own house. This was not right and yet their vermin had the guts to smile about it. These monsters are ones that should face constant public humiliation and not one thing short of a painful death.
But in the end of eight grade and the 9th I had enough of all this fuckery this world had to offer.
I was constantly searching for love. I had many crushes yet no one liked me at all. No one respected me, hell I was most made fun of and even mocked by teachers. Especially in 6th grade.
It makes me laugh how contrast reality here is compared to the set of ideals they want people to believe reality is like. But truly the world is filled with undead people. People who are only willing to be mediocre slaves and not chase after developing their selves or talents. Much could be said for the so called" black community" which to me only means a group of sad bastards profiting off the system of racism and degrading others who fit their descriptions. Of course, no one says it, everyone is too scared to say what they really mean. But all black pride is, a system, an ideal created by them to say that black people are without pride and should pledge away what makes them them to fit the ideal of a black person.
The year of the 9th grade was very significant because I was even more motivated to better my life.
I wrote down all my ideas and did that for a time until I was to go to college. The big problem was how to do the deed. The badgers of evil, the government and my parents included amongst other people were of no help to find my path to drawing real comics. I survived a worst faith than those 13 and so years of public school combined. At first I focused on school but I then realized that live is short and that I should focus on find the way to making my comics reality. Because in the year of the 11th grade I had a trouble of great concern. A great pain like never before came about and only the reversing of the near end of the colon that had twisted onto itself could fix the pain.
But I decided ever since then, that I had to work harder than before to make my dreams true.
I finished my ideals and rewrote some and basically found my self being threatened by my own parents for simply being me. They threatened to kick me out. They hate my very essence and being but loony toons like the many fucks that exist in this world who need to painful did, they think they have some type of power.In the coming months I started to find a visual solution but the semester ended and over christmas break, I got sick because really the house I live in is full of things to make you sick. Not even the overgrown children who graduated from college to basically do nothing but become scream posts for some savages and damn zombies for groups that really don't suite their best interest. They live in fear. This fear is internal. This fear tells them that living elsewhere and providing for theirselves would be too hard. But I had enough of this bullshit. I did not care anymore, I was going to find the visual solution and become rich off of it.
I returned to college mostly sick and in too much pain to even go to sleep. So I used this to my advantage, I stayed up until my classes and continued to work on the solution through the blog I conceived the previous semester called MK MZODERN. First that site was for kicks and news but then I used it to develop new thought processes and methods. It became my highest viewed blog and I even started to make money off it. I wrote a series of songs but what was I trying to do?
I was trying to find a better way to make comics and methods I developed while there lead to the development in the august of that year when I had failed out of college.
It was a dark time, but there was the opportunity to reach the goal and through torture, discrimination and many times of loneliness and seeing how desperate people really are-I finally reached my goal.
I went to community college and had to fight these nasty fuckers I call my parents to get off my case.
I only passed one class that one semester. But I accomplished many series that I couldn't have done before without my new method. Over the months and as I finally succeeded in the next round of college and accomplishing the base for more comics adding the total up to 21-I came to realize that I was actually slowly dying. I created a projected called Cosmica, that was supposed to endear all my previous projects and characters and was to feature songs as well but around the time of working on this, I fell ill and the horrible pain returned. I stayed in a hospital for a week and at times in a lot of pain, but I used this time to restore myself. Then I came to a conclusion, my life was truly guided on principles for world that was not there. I had no friends. I can say no family either. Because even though it was my parents who brought me there. It was these same monsters trying to bash in my head and act up because of their hatred for who I am. I didn't fail for their acting nice charm like the last operation and I used my recovery time to think up new ideals, work on smaller comics, finish Cosmica part one and create new methods. I also created and finished a new book. Adding the total of comic projects up to 22.
In every regard, I realize I was totally alone.Not one person knew about my ordeal and I can tell you that hardly none or any of my facebook friends would even give a glance or a fuck about me. I was not one of those guys who even posted shit on my personal health status. Because you know what. No one would give a damn. The last time this happened I posted what happened and all I heard was crickets, however there was one person who is not like this world. Who was kind and generous and wished me well. I was so touched because I thought things like this only happened in tv and movies and not in this cold hearted world that we live in.
Many things have happened after I finished the last project. But I decided to finally start on one project in its final phase and so far, I have only got 4 serials done out of a 100. However, this is a process you can not rush but feel. And I will feel all the way to my dreams, because I have come up with a super weapon that will not even allow a society like this to even exist any longer. And that's as much as I am willing to explain about myself even though some is not understandable or seems jumbled. In truth, I am only writing this for my own mental health and no one else. the fucking end.
Comments
Post a Comment