Been an angry child for most of my life, I’d have to admit. More often than not, you’d find a frown in possession of my pudgy cheeks and small lips for God knows how long. But, as frustrated as I was, never have I strained my vocal cords as much as they are from using them, for once. How can you not be grateful and at peace with yourself after unlocking shackles slowing your progression towards solitude and simply loving yourself?
Friends. Family. Influence. Addiction. Abandonment. Losing yourself. All of which are the splatter of blood gushing from wounds sliced open from every jab taken on each side of the fence, ubconsciously painting the picture misery coerces all of us to see during our lowest points…
So many distractions surrounding me against my will from the very start!
“You’re so fat! Ugly! Dumb! Soft! Big for nothing!”
My favorite phrase of them yet:“Maldito goldo!”
Mostly uttered by a Mother feeling disdain for my existence stemming from the roots of her self-hatred and resentment towards Pops, as the only son alive whom carries his name. Nights felt endless when enduring her vows of my imminent death with no choice but to spill involuntary tears.
“I know she loves me somewhere in her heart!” Quickly turned into, “Yea, she hates me, what’s new?”
But, angry? I can’t be anymore, breaking off from a mold I almost congealed with. Turning left anytime they went right. And, blessed I was to notice how my life was on the upside the more they let themselves down. An Impertubable frame of mind as cold as arctic ice, same way my heart was when seeking her conditional love…
As mad of a child I was, why not live my life as a man at peace with who he is? Not an irritable man raging until his bitter end…
m3l0dicverse 
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