Alright, this is a long story. I really need to vent here, but if you just want to know how this could affect you, just read the last little paragraph below the line.
Now, on to why I'm typing this and so on: Life's been terrible to me. The first romantic interest I've had since my very first -- which was about 7 years ago, (If Merz or some nitpick who happens to recall the particular chain of events that happened between he and I reads this: That excludes shams.) a painfully long time to go without a little attention being paid to my mind and body and someone to hold in my arms, though I had long forgot it hurt; she mostly acted as a reminder that it actually did hurt, and made it hurt again, much worse -- anyway, she murdered herself in front of my face. Then my brain started to die on me and I had to think fast to figure out how to fix it. That's about the extent of what I've explained to the 'net so far. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Then my plan fails and I have to use an emergency backup contingency that vastly and randomly alters my psyche, making me arguably no longer me, and at the very least no longer who I'm very accustomed to being, which is unsettling to say the least. Then the shit really hit the fan. That's right, it didn't get better. Oh no-ho-ho-ho-merry-Christmas-to-all-and-to-all-a-good-night.
...It got worse. My father, who I'd hardly seen since my family was shattered, basically abducts me and takes me ages away from my warm, sunny home of Houston, where my mother and the wife he basically abandoned shat me out of her womb into this usually wonderful -- if just a bit challenging and troublesome at times -- world. He takes me from Houston, a kind mistress who provided me with a bare minimum of enough joy and feeling in general in my life to go on and many friends to have it with in the absence of much of a family who remained in my life, as well as a climate and landscape I've come to find enjoyable, and, I'm sure, many other things that I've taken for granted and just haven't felt the absence of yet. He took me from there and placed me in a mansion, well-furnished but completely empty in the only sense that matters to me, surrounded by gloomy skies, terrible weather, terrible and gloomy people, and...him, whose horrors and madness I can't even begin to describe in words. Then he tries to force me to maintain this massive place while he's out doing I-don't-even-know-what the majority of the time, letting me have virtually nothing in my life due to lack of funds, lack of contacts, lack of time,...lack of pretty much everything.
I'm almost a grown-ass man of the ripe young age of 18. I possess a strong, cunning, and ingenious mind crafted from years of learning as much as I could; a strong and supple body built from extreme amounts of extremely intense exercise; willpower I have yet to meet a rival to forged in the violent fires of passion for everything I do; friends, enemies, rivals and many more relations of more complexity; a story, short but sweet, to tell! I have no will and no rightful reason to take this shit from my father! So I'm going to add another chapter to that story, and here's the plan I've developed to do such!:
1: Wait for my father to go to sleep. Take his wallet and get as much money as I can. Put it back so he won't have a chance of tracking me.
2: Big kitchen knife. Paper. Pencil. Bed. The words "Be glad this isn't your throat; be glad I'm forgiving enough to let you live. If your miserable existence can be called life, that is." Write the words on the paper with the pencil, stab the paper into the bed with the kitchen knife.
3: Leave. Bum my way to Austin, where my big sis', the only other sane member of the family left, lives. Stay with her until I can get everything straightened out and live as an independent person, or, under the unlikely circumstance that she won't/can't take me in, (She already agreed to it over the phone. And I used a cell phone borrowed from a completely random generous person. I'd like to see Father find that.) find a friend in the area who can. If nothing else, I can go back to my old house, where my mother technically lives. My father could easily find me again, and my mother isn't exactly the best thing to co-exist with, but she's a far lesser evil to Father due to her usual stance of total inaction and apathy, which is at most slightly annoying. And if he takes the time to return, I'll figure out another place to go.
4: Live happily ever after. I'll make it work, reality and odds and all that shit be damned to hell and back.
Also note, I've taken precautions to make sure I'll be impossible or at least all but impossible to track down. I'm going to gut the hard-drives from this computer and destroy the router so there's simply no data there to extract from either. I'll leave riddles and clues that either have no answer or lead Father to what are inevitably dead ends. I'll leave obvious evidence whose falsehood is not obvious leading him to believe I'm going nowhere near Texas and far more subtle faked evidence of still other destinations. And so on. By the time he'd have a snowball's chance in fiery hell of figuring out where I really am and actually getting there, (He luckily knows nothing about the living places of Sis' or my friends, due to being severed from us all for so long. If he went out on a limb and tried anywhere in Texas, he'd try Houston.) I'll be a legal adult, and be well out of his control.
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So, in other words, I'm gonna go on a long journey of bumming my way back to Texas in which I will very likely have no internet access, or, if I'm fool enough to tarry at a library or some such, very little. Starting some time tonight when I have the cover of shadow and most people being asleep. Merry Christmas in advance in case I'm not able to return by then. Or, perhaps, (I certainly hope not) not at all.
Now, on to why I'm typing this and so on: Life's been terrible to me. The first romantic interest I've had since my very first -- which was about 7 years ago, (If Merz or some nitpick who happens to recall the particular chain of events that happened between he and I reads this: That excludes shams.) a painfully long time to go without a little attention being paid to my mind and body and someone to hold in my arms, though I had long forgot it hurt; she mostly acted as a reminder that it actually did hurt, and made it hurt again, much worse -- anyway, she murdered herself in front of my face. Then my brain started to die on me and I had to think fast to figure out how to fix it. That's about the extent of what I've explained to the 'net so far. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Then my plan fails and I have to use an emergency backup contingency that vastly and randomly alters my psyche, making me arguably no longer me, and at the very least no longer who I'm very accustomed to being, which is unsettling to say the least. Then the shit really hit the fan. That's right, it didn't get better. Oh no-ho-ho-ho-merry-Christmas-to-all-and-to-all-a-good-night.
...It got worse. My father, who I'd hardly seen since my family was shattered, basically abducts me and takes me ages away from my warm, sunny home of Houston, where my mother and the wife he basically abandoned shat me out of her womb into this usually wonderful -- if just a bit challenging and troublesome at times -- world. He takes me from Houston, a kind mistress who provided me with a bare minimum of enough joy and feeling in general in my life to go on and many friends to have it with in the absence of much of a family who remained in my life, as well as a climate and landscape I've come to find enjoyable, and, I'm sure, many other things that I've taken for granted and just haven't felt the absence of yet. He took me from there and placed me in a mansion, well-furnished but completely empty in the only sense that matters to me, surrounded by gloomy skies, terrible weather, terrible and gloomy people, and...him, whose horrors and madness I can't even begin to describe in words. Then he tries to force me to maintain this massive place while he's out doing I-don't-even-know-what the majority of the time, letting me have virtually nothing in my life due to lack of funds, lack of contacts, lack of time,...lack of pretty much everything.
I'm almost a grown-ass man of the ripe young age of 18. I possess a strong, cunning, and ingenious mind crafted from years of learning as much as I could; a strong and supple body built from extreme amounts of extremely intense exercise; willpower I have yet to meet a rival to forged in the violent fires of passion for everything I do; friends, enemies, rivals and many more relations of more complexity; a story, short but sweet, to tell! I have no will and no rightful reason to take this shit from my father! So I'm going to add another chapter to that story, and here's the plan I've developed to do such!:
1: Wait for my father to go to sleep. Take his wallet and get as much money as I can. Put it back so he won't have a chance of tracking me.
2: Big kitchen knife. Paper. Pencil. Bed. The words "Be glad this isn't your throat; be glad I'm forgiving enough to let you live. If your miserable existence can be called life, that is." Write the words on the paper with the pencil, stab the paper into the bed with the kitchen knife.
3: Leave. Bum my way to Austin, where my big sis', the only other sane member of the family left, lives. Stay with her until I can get everything straightened out and live as an independent person, or, under the unlikely circumstance that she won't/can't take me in, (She already agreed to it over the phone. And I used a cell phone borrowed from a completely random generous person. I'd like to see Father find that.) find a friend in the area who can. If nothing else, I can go back to my old house, where my mother technically lives. My father could easily find me again, and my mother isn't exactly the best thing to co-exist with, but she's a far lesser evil to Father due to her usual stance of total inaction and apathy, which is at most slightly annoying. And if he takes the time to return, I'll figure out another place to go.
4: Live happily ever after. I'll make it work, reality and odds and all that shit be damned to hell and back.
Also note, I've taken precautions to make sure I'll be impossible or at least all but impossible to track down. I'm going to gut the hard-drives from this computer and destroy the router so there's simply no data there to extract from either. I'll leave riddles and clues that either have no answer or lead Father to what are inevitably dead ends. I'll leave obvious evidence whose falsehood is not obvious leading him to believe I'm going nowhere near Texas and far more subtle faked evidence of still other destinations. And so on. By the time he'd have a snowball's chance in fiery hell of figuring out where I really am and actually getting there, (He luckily knows nothing about the living places of Sis' or my friends, due to being severed from us all for so long. If he went out on a limb and tried anywhere in Texas, he'd try Houston.) I'll be a legal adult, and be well out of his control.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, in other words, I'm gonna go on a long journey of bumming my way back to Texas in which I will very likely have no internet access, or, if I'm fool enough to tarry at a library or some such, very little. Starting some time tonight when I have the cover of shadow and most people being asleep. Merry Christmas in advance in case I'm not able to return by then. Or, perhaps, (I certainly hope not) not at all.
