You have no idea the kind of home life I live in. Ya’ll think I got it good, that my Daddy is some well known music artist and I get everything I could ever want. I bet all you see at my house is expensive jewelry, cars…the good life, right? You come from the same place, too.
Well, there isn’t anything good about any of that. I much rather trade my life with someone more fortunate, with someone who’s a little richer than me, than have anything I want with the snap of my fingers. It’s not interesting.It’s depressing
I’m never given the chance to prove myself. Everything is ripped from me. I’m never listened to, just tossed aside like I don’t matter, because I don’t. I am just some object that’s supposed to go with the flow and be this great big happy som
My mom, all she ever talks about is her children and her hollucination, facials, massages, traveling. Each day she has a nurse to help her with her medicine and diabetic life, not to mention her daily no run for some fresh air…turns my stomach, actually.
I’m not like them, you see? I’m nothing like them and I secretly wonder if I am really their biological son…
It sucks not to have an identity of your own, with no support like you’re invisible. Everything is pushed aside, because life is fabulous, so put on a smile and shine in Los Angeles.
Well, I can’t shine. I don’t know how to shine. I don’t know how to stop feeling like this spoiled brat. I don’t deserve what I’m given. I want to feel normal.