Post by Naiyami Shinjou on May 4, 2004 1:16:21 GMT -5
To avoid all future questions, and to further clarify a few ambiguous points.
My life story is nothing special, so I'll just highlight things on the way.
I was born in Downey, CA; a city that was so ghetto it didn't even know what 'ghetto' meant. Its inhabitants were excellent at cursing, however. Pure geniuses in that respect. I went to some preschool and kindergarten that said I had the reading level of a tenth grader at the time. Either they were mistaken or my mind deteriorated after that point, because I feel like I'm back in first grade. The schools I went to during that time were the longest I had ever been in any school. I gave up trying to contact old friends since I moved so frequently.
My dad ditched my grandfather one day to become a businessman instead of a doctor, or that's what my mom says. He moved away from Korea after graduating from the most difficult college over there to work at at a liquor store. And yes, this place had porn magazines there also. I just thought the special rack with the red fabric over it was there to be "pretty." I guess I was right, in a man's view.
The store wasn't so horrible in my eyes, I guess. I went everyday, took a coloring book from the kids' section, and sat down on an empty soda crate at the office table to shade in my favorite series in the time: the original Power Rangers. I remember when I was trying to color the Pink Ranger's head when my dad threw a calculator on the ground next to me with the lights off in the office. The crash shocked me, but the reason why he was angry didn't. He was always mad because my mom used extra money or didn't do the accounting right. I wished he wouldn't do that though; I wasn't particularly fond of loud noises.
I used to meet with one of my cousins my age to play on the SNES and sing the theme song of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with. When I asked my dad once why he bought me a videogame system at the time, he said that he thought it was a good idea. I think he regretted it after I took that path for a future career. He sounded like it.
My family broke up after a while. It wasn't a steady break-off, but rather a sharp cut. My dad didn't like how my grandfather lied to gain money while being the senior director of some software company.
A while back before I was born, Father used to work for Grandpa in engineering. Even though Mother said Father was wonderful in all aspects of the business, he hated Grandpa because he cheated everyone out and gave him the dirty work to do.
He's still being an ass.
My dad cut off from the rest of the family as stated before. From that point on, I never saw my cousins, or aunts, or uncles. Not even Grandpa.
Because really, he never acted much like an ass. He was just in reality one.
After the family separated, my alchoholic and smoker of a dad came back one day from his "business meetings", or whatever those were. I was on the computer, and he called me. He didn't beat me that day, which was relieving. Whenever he calls in a tone other than happy, it always means less sleeping hours. He told me to sit on beside him on the bed and to listen to him.
He said in slurs that even if he couldn't make that much money, he'd make enough for college. He said that he'd do all these things that I know he wouldn't do. He said that he'd die if he didn't make enough. Things that only a drunk person says. Sometimes alcohol's more than a depressant. Sometimes it's just a truth revealer, even though it's a stupid way to get someone to say the truth. The moment in words seems so short, but it felt like hours. And it did take those long night hours just to stop him from all that damn crying.
Because, frankly, he didn't know that it hurt me too.
After that, everything went slower than usual. My dad never talked about it again. In fact, he became more like my mom, who stressed on education and on what colleges I should go to. I read over some conversations I had with someone I broke up with. Went to school, came home. Did work, went to sleep.
There's nothing abnormal about how I acted, or how I act now. Defiance is something that only people who are allowed to obtain it and who have the ability to obtain it get. People who aren't given the opportunity are forced to go on. And me, no. To have defiance against the same dad who ran away from home? He would think it unfair. Most people would.
So, everything just went like that.
My life story is nothing special, so I'll just highlight things on the way.
I was born in Downey, CA; a city that was so ghetto it didn't even know what 'ghetto' meant. Its inhabitants were excellent at cursing, however. Pure geniuses in that respect. I went to some preschool and kindergarten that said I had the reading level of a tenth grader at the time. Either they were mistaken or my mind deteriorated after that point, because I feel like I'm back in first grade. The schools I went to during that time were the longest I had ever been in any school. I gave up trying to contact old friends since I moved so frequently.
My dad ditched my grandfather one day to become a businessman instead of a doctor, or that's what my mom says. He moved away from Korea after graduating from the most difficult college over there to work at at a liquor store. And yes, this place had porn magazines there also. I just thought the special rack with the red fabric over it was there to be "pretty." I guess I was right, in a man's view.
The store wasn't so horrible in my eyes, I guess. I went everyday, took a coloring book from the kids' section, and sat down on an empty soda crate at the office table to shade in my favorite series in the time: the original Power Rangers. I remember when I was trying to color the Pink Ranger's head when my dad threw a calculator on the ground next to me with the lights off in the office. The crash shocked me, but the reason why he was angry didn't. He was always mad because my mom used extra money or didn't do the accounting right. I wished he wouldn't do that though; I wasn't particularly fond of loud noises.
I used to meet with one of my cousins my age to play on the SNES and sing the theme song of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with. When I asked my dad once why he bought me a videogame system at the time, he said that he thought it was a good idea. I think he regretted it after I took that path for a future career. He sounded like it.
My family broke up after a while. It wasn't a steady break-off, but rather a sharp cut. My dad didn't like how my grandfather lied to gain money while being the senior director of some software company.
A while back before I was born, Father used to work for Grandpa in engineering. Even though Mother said Father was wonderful in all aspects of the business, he hated Grandpa because he cheated everyone out and gave him the dirty work to do.
He's still being an ass.
My dad cut off from the rest of the family as stated before. From that point on, I never saw my cousins, or aunts, or uncles. Not even Grandpa.
Because really, he never acted much like an ass. He was just in reality one.
After the family separated, my alchoholic and smoker of a dad came back one day from his "business meetings", or whatever those were. I was on the computer, and he called me. He didn't beat me that day, which was relieving. Whenever he calls in a tone other than happy, it always means less sleeping hours. He told me to sit on beside him on the bed and to listen to him.
He said in slurs that even if he couldn't make that much money, he'd make enough for college. He said that he'd do all these things that I know he wouldn't do. He said that he'd die if he didn't make enough. Things that only a drunk person says. Sometimes alcohol's more than a depressant. Sometimes it's just a truth revealer, even though it's a stupid way to get someone to say the truth. The moment in words seems so short, but it felt like hours. And it did take those long night hours just to stop him from all that damn crying.
Because, frankly, he didn't know that it hurt me too.
After that, everything went slower than usual. My dad never talked about it again. In fact, he became more like my mom, who stressed on education and on what colleges I should go to. I read over some conversations I had with someone I broke up with. Went to school, came home. Did work, went to sleep.
There's nothing abnormal about how I acted, or how I act now. Defiance is something that only people who are allowed to obtain it and who have the ability to obtain it get. People who aren't given the opportunity are forced to go on. And me, no. To have defiance against the same dad who ran away from home? He would think it unfair. Most people would.
So, everything just went like that.
