Imit took me a long time to realize who i was . i didnt have a strong sense of self. although it took amny sucicede attepmts to realize thisa man with a fatherless past. and broken heat and a sense of abandonment. makeing a living day to day off 400$ pay checks and 390$ of it goes to rent. i watch my life pass me by beacuse of some rich capitalist motherfuckers made that descioion for me. everyone around me is insitiulainzed or a berucrat. HI my name is joseph i lost my brain in the ghettos of america in allys of broken allys and bullys on the play ground. i walk the streets of tacoma wa, my headphones up my hoodie on thinking . all night. listing to the music trying to graps a image of my self in the song. werkd by emotions. angry at the poverty around me watching kids grow up like me. all fucked up and broken on the inside. kids filled with rage. parents blame the kids for their feelings of anger that the parents create. no one ever gave me a fucking chance in life. i was issued a death sentance by america. sometimes i feel like the only person who feels i sometimes think money will make me happy. i feel tired all the time like jsut want to collapse. i have no stregth to go on. i feel weak and it seems like giving up is the best option. i have to constanly look in myself and find stegth. and sometimes i never find the strength i find memorys instead that make me weaker href="http://img137.imageshack.us/my.php?image=asimodelln7ct .jpg" i lived as a travling kid for a while traviling across the us and down ther west coast ending up in new york. than i traviled to europe and made it from england to turkey the whole time i was happy but felt alone and not on the right path i needed to search inside me for soemthing
i want to meet other artists writers the mad and the depressed thsoe who have been in love and thsoe who have never been in love. me and my mom THE STORY OF MY PARENTS AND HOW I AM A PRODUCT OF A INEASY ALLIANCE OF DRUGS AND UNTIOUGHT PASSION. my father whos dead now. was a produckt of the 60s. a acid head. he was a amazing guitiarist and suppsoedly had practiced with the greatful dead long before they were famous he was a strange man who grew up with the lakota sioux. he was very spiritual. and a christian. although i never really met the man till he walmost dead. he never showed affection or intrest . his best freind david. was my mothers brother and they use to be partners in crime. they hada major theft ring and drug ring. thye were pro criminals. they made the FBIs top most wanted in the late 60s i guess. he was in and out of prion and western state hospitial as was my uncle david. so my father my dad and dave were 3 of a pair. soon my father and my mom marryed. a few days later dave was killed by a drunk driver in parkland. he worked for the city of tacoma. and got off it beacuse they had no drunk driving alws back than. the city gacve my famly a settlement of 3000 $ pathetic. the city kileld him and got away with murder. beacuse she was pregnat with me. my father paniced and soon turned to heroin. and met a new woman who later died of aids. and abnadonded us the day of my birth. a few months later he brought over his new GF while he was still maired to my mother . her name was nancy and she too was a junkie like now my father had become he beat my mom up that day badly almsot killing her kilking my crib over with me in it. he thre her out with me in her arms. she was wrapped in a sheet almost nekid. she crawled with me in her arms to a freinds house who took us in. my father sold all my mothers stuff. thats were his story ends. soon my mother was panhandling for money to feed me. her application for welfare and money was turned down beacuse this was the time of the regan 80s. and social cut backs was what was happing. so agian america like my father had abandoned us.. and left us to die. in its great fight agianst communism. i grew up very poor. soon my mother found a christian orginization with the tribe. they paied our rent. and gave us food. i grew up poor. i saw extremee violence as a kid. i grew up in the gang land 80s. where crips and bloods were fighting a war in the streets. in school i was phycologyly tourtered, beat by teachers and called stupid and sick. my artwrk was called pervereted and "bad" i liked to write and draw. the teachers corrected this by hitting me and kicking me in front of the other students. aspburgers was not yet discovered in america. and they thought a good beating was waht was needed. after that i was the only "punk rocker" in my school i worte ripped up kakis and red doc martin boots and my green hair and dead kenndiys shit. girls use to throw perfume at me and tell me i stink. white kids who wanted to be ganagers. use to take turns beating my face in. in the hall ways. i got my ass kisked by teachers in class my ass beat by kids in the hall ways. and girls wanted nothing to do with me. and made fun of me. io turned to my writing after 3 years of special ed program. they stuck me with tranvestite 16 year olds. kids who had murdered their parents rape victems and those with anger mangement issues. soon i droped out and began a deep period of introspection. 6 years living in my moms attc reading thinking formualting a plan.
me and my fatherafter i cut his head off i looked into his eyes and saw i had cut my own head offhttp://www.last.fm/widgets/radio/?url=user/joseph8/person
al&path=myspace#guess who looked back at megrew up in the maerican ghetto.. mcdonalds drugs and drive bysi think back at past girl friends.
hahah im a monster i was the motherfucking caliban in their fantsy islandprice is right[1].mp3 Hosted by ..
seince we think in images i put up image storys
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I HAVE OVER 9,000 BOOKS I LIVE IN A LIABRARY ITS PART OF MY OCCD. I SPENT OVER 15 YEARS ALONE READING NOT AHVEING FREINDS OR COMPAINIONS SO WHO IS SUSAN BLOOD. SHES MY FEMALE ALT THATS HER BELOW
im my own hero YOU WILL NEVER MEET ANYONE LIKE ME EVER MY MOTHER TOLD ME I WA SEMICALUTE CONCEPTION. I NEVER HAD A FATHER OR CLOSE FREINDS. A DRUG ATTICT MOTHER WHO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME BULLYED AND JUMPED MY HWOLE LIFE I WA TOLD I WAS LESS THAN NOTHING BY TEACHERS AND OTHER ARTISTS BUT INREALITY IM THE GREATIST ARTIST IN THE WORLDI SOMETIMES HAVE DREASM OF THE LAKOTA GHOST DANCE. IN THE DREAM IT ALWAYS HAPPENS IN A BIG FEILD TREES IN THE DISTANCE. I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO A GHOST DANCE ALTHOUGH I AM HALF LAKOTA SIOUX. ITS LIKE SOMETHING DEEP IN ME