So they finally let me write whatever the hell I want to as long as I don't attack anyone. First of all my name is J and I'm a gangsta and can take care of myself. People just don't understand me or what I've been thru. I'm not saying I got the worst of it, but I've been thru a lot of shit. You see, people don't understand us, I don't understand us. All I know is I look after what's good for me. Yah, I fucked up a while back. I'm 16 and shouldn't have allowed mysrlf to go thru that shit. I was old enough and should have stopped it. It all started for me atleast when the her boyfriend got the great idea on how to make money. You think he would get a job, hell now. He was to fucken good for that, he decideed to sell my ass of, that's what. But I never got the easy guy's (is what I called them), the blow job's, shit like that, no. I got the psyco's. There are real fucked up people out there, Don't want to gross people out, actually feeling a little caring. Go figure, don't happen much. No, I got the brooms, fist's, pain. All that morbid shit. You know, I don't feel like talking any more. This succk's remembering this shit. All the pain and torment these people did. And all for a buck that I didn't even get. I know I have an attitude problem and that's whay D don't like me out much and I caused a lot of shit but after all I've been thru. I think I deserve it. And that's not the rest. D alway's wanted to know why I joined that gang. Atleast they were family. They somewhat looked after me. Yea, I know I was being used after a while, but still. It's all just fucked up. Oh well, If this get's hacked for cussing, let it be. Feel a little better. Just thinkin about it makes me sick to my stomach and I want to stop but I don't know when I'll get to post again. I fell like at any minute my life can die. And I'm not talkin about suicide. I mean I'm hear to get thru something and when it's over, am I gone. Do I just one day die or disapear. I would much rather of not been created at all than to have gonew thru all of this. The second part of the story is that in high school is that Timmy liked swimming, so he went swimming after school and tim said it was ok. I have no fucken idea what happened, but I was being held on the gym bench by football players gettin laughed at, pissed on and screwed. After it all ended I got hit in the head with something. After I came too, this kid about 17 helped me to my locker and said I needed to join a gang for protection. Come to find out later he knew what happened and used that to his advantage. Now that I think about it, was I really in the gang or just another toy. Probally but I like to think I'm part of something. Whatever. All of you will probally hate me and think I deserved it or something, and you know what, I think so too. J