brusque teen

my childhood was my favorite. it was good times man. but it sucked sometimes... it made me this adventurous, adrenaline junky, thrill seeking guy but also a brusque and bitter kid that gets too quiet sometimes and i get quite rebellious at other times.  just read below.

i just got a text no more than 30 seconds ago.
i guess my brother just had a civil war break out inside of him and he's on his way to the hospital.
it seems like every day there's a new crisis with someone in my family.
my mother has asked me to include him in my prayers.
what prayers
i look down at my battered tennis shoes
they make me wonder if i'm worthy to step up and pray at all.
the dirt and stains on every fiber reminds me that ive walked down too many wrong roads in my time.
god wouldn't let me in.
i'd track mud on the floor.

DID YOU KNOW that it's extremely difficult for someone with ADHD to write when there's screaming vibrating the walls?
i mean i've read the last line i just typed 4x now,
OUTLOUD to comprehend it so i could think of what to write next.
but all i've heard are the words of agitation and hate  from the other room, ringing in my ears.
i've started up the music now.
it brings back memories of long nights in my car
listening to all these sad songs,
not realizing i'd been driving for an hour, in which direction??
it didn't really matter cuz any direction was better than the hell hole that had been breaking out at home.
whether towards downtown Salt Lake, Minnesota, kohlers, 
or that old playground where i learned my first swear
and where i had my first kiss.
i could go there....
it wouldn't take that long. 10.5 hours approximately.

i'd sit at the top of that rusted slide
run my hands on the chipping orange paint as i rush down, warming my finger tips because of the sun rays that fall through the trees high above.
feeling  the Santa Anna winds rush past my face
then landing hard in the gritty sand below, my toes disappear.
engulfed in the familiar feeling.

but what if i go back to that place and its not the same.
what if the playground is torn out
replaced by capitalistic housing,
and what if the ditch nearby was dried up where my sister made a fort for us under the bridge...
our solitude.
where we'd go to escape the yells and the shouts
and where we found a new pet turtle
and where i started my "rock" collection with a piece of glass i found in the flowing water.

but what if i did go to that town, today, 
and the ditch was dried up,
and the bridge was collapsed...
the place where those good memories live would officially not exist.
and those good memories would fade and break into small pieces,
and the only ones that would be left are the bad.

NO.
i cant go back.
the past is better left behind i suppose.
only to exist in those times of remembrance.
but the past is written on our faces.
on each bump and in the wrinkles on our noses.

so... on those long nights in my car listening to all those sad songs,
ill find out how to get back home. only an hour away. one hour from the silhouette house.
where the walls constantly vibrate the screams and yells,
and also sometimes, from the music blasting from my speakers to drown it out.

most nights, like tonight, i don't hide away in my car.
instead i stare down at my worn out tennis shoes that are stained and battered and i start to wish that my ears would stop ringing.
and that i wasn't alone in this cold basement.

: br/us/k

abrupt or offhand in speech or manner.

in this blog i can be myself, entirely. no matter what that implies. i have lots of opinions but depending who you are, i don't always express them well. while i was growing up i was taught to keep my mouth shut and be a peace maker, and not to get mad, and if you did something wrong it had to be fixed instantly. this has made it hard for me to get my mind out, and for people to understand what i'm feeling in my head. if we're good friends, i always make sure you get a piece of my mind.

IM A TEEN. and i act like one. most the time i'm respectful and kind but if you get on my nerves i get brusque. i do stupid things and i regret them later. reckless, wild, and free am i right? i don't really even know myself that well so don't go expecting to figure me out through this blog. cuz you won't. and then you'll be all disappointed probably. and nobody wants that.

family is a big part of my life. not always positive and not always negative. we all hate each other, and we would all die for each other.

i contradict myself a lot.
in general i'm an off person. but i seem the same as all.
                              doesn't everyone though?
                                               
                                               we're all just kids playing pretend with each other.