Well Im not a good writer, I cant put my thoughts in words but what the hell. Im just detached to my childhood... If he can blog and it helps him, I'll try to why not. Its cheaper then therapy and I dont have to have to be uncomfortable. or have someone stare at me. so Im starting one (DEVILSGIRLMAE) he can write from present and go back or whatever and I will just write about my hard ass life Ive had and survived and made it to tylers door...I suck at spelling...forgive me for that.

MAE

I woke up this morning to turn the PC on to a blog about me from someone I love. At first I just cried thinking its a nasty joke but a little calmer now I'll give you the background about myself. From the beginning of my memories nothing have been normal. Mom left me at age of five for drugs, booze and men. I remember here coming home in the middle of the night black and blue and bleeding. I remember my father using her for target practice with beer bottles. When mom was not there I took care of my dad and brother. Dad has been married six times and my mom I think over five, but my father always had multiple sluts in the background. I lost my childhood, my identity. Then at the age of 10 if things could not be worse, I was riding my bike in a park, grabbed from behind and kidnapped to some woods where I was brutally raped, beat to death, penetrated in every part of my body by him and sticks.

Ok well not at work so my story continues. So...anyway I Had to drink some beers and smoke a cigerette before I had to confront this chick with my newly found friend Kevin who had been through the same thing. We decided to wake her up so Kevin stayed in the kitchen while I went to wake up Mae. I got her up and she was just in panties so I put some of my jogging pants on her. I brought her half drunk and staggering into the kitchen where we were going to have our little sit down. She saw and recognized Kevin and went to hug him and started crying. We (me and Kevin) had talked earlier about if we were going to let her drink while we spoke to her and since we were drinking too it only seemed like the fair thing to do. So we sat her down and she kept asking how did we know each other. I tried to explain the whole meeting Kevin at Chilli's thing and all that but...really to no e vale.

So...We keep talking about this chick Me, Kevin (the stranger), and my roomate Evan. We talk for a while and have some drinks. Well Evan (My roomate who I rode with) had to leave to go to a coon hunt (yeah, I live in GA and people go hunting for racoons and shit...but Evan is a really good guy and very opened minded). Anywho...so I ask Kevin if he would take me home. He said yes and that would work out good 'cause he had some of Mae's clothes at his house that she probably needed. Cool...so we leave Chilli's and head to Kevin's apartment. On the way we stop and he buys a 36 pack of Bud light (sunday beer he says). Then we are at his apartment and he's telling me about his experience with Mae (while we drink a few beers). He tells me she showed up at his house and was drunk and couldn't sober up. He had beer in the house and she drank all that and vodka and whatever else she could get her hands on. She would get sick and throw up...She shit on herself and in the bed.

Hey ya'll I kinda would like advice on this situation. Here goes...So I work at night and One day this chick bebops up on my porch and knocks on my door. Waking from sleep I get up to answer the door and it's Mae this chick I had seen around town at bars and such. So I let her in cause she looks and smells like she had slept in a ditch. She has acouple of 22oz. Smirnofs with her and she promptly puts one in the fridge and keeps sipping on the other. Then she tells me that's she's lost everything and has no place to go. This is on a Thursday. We'll she stays drunk and sick 'till Saturday when I go to Chilli's with my buddy and we sit at the bar and strike up a conversation with this guy...Kevin. Now this is where it kindagets weird. So I'm having some drinks and feeling talkative and such. So I start telling this complete starnger about this drunk chick at my house...in the middle of it though he stops me and Says"Her name's not Mae is it?"

Misery comes in the shape of memories, like
the ones that avoid your tongue or human
companionship to victims of the medieval plague.
Nothing can help you stomach that grief
or more specifically, that bottle of whiskey.
A need for uncomfortable solace has
left me searching the globe over;
for something, or someone, that can help me.
Help me ease into the life I deserve,
the role of a king, the perfect man.
Alas, all this time I've been left alone.
Counting the days, as they tick bye with
some sort of soul-stealing nuisances.
This shot is for all the times that
I could have & should have BUT I sat
petrified and terrified
of all the possibilities I could've picked.
Oh my God, this time, this time
I'm so afraid I'll always be alone.

Eyes glazed over, Sarah turns on the tiny television. Planet Earth, “Shallow Seas” appears. A tree falls, slowly at first. It hits the ground violently. “Although the jungle mourns a loss of one of her children
there is always new life to bloom over the fallen.”
I pause, and I think. I look out of the window; the neighbor still thinks I’m stalking her. I drift into sleep.

What there is, is potential reality and recollection of reality. There may be an objective truth, but you’re not getting your hands on it this century.

There are two things. There is what you thought happened, (and perhaps a bit of outside commentary on what you thought happened) and what has potential to happen. And the facts are these: you don’t know shit, you didn’t know shit, and you won’t even know shit after it happens to you.

People make millions on self-help books to assist the social retards of the world.