Writing The Story of a philosopher/incel/wanderer

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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
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Chapter 10: School Poems, Churches,and Family Squabbles
My mother was always searching for places, people,and different things to satisfy the hole in her heart. She was eternally empty in her soul. Her life had no real meaning, no purpose,so she perpetually looked for it elsewhere. Various abusive boyfriends, husbands, religions, vices, copes, or just somewhere she felt she could finally belong. We would move often across the west side, as i've previously mentioned, and she would change churches and religions just as swiftly, sometimes far more often. One month she became a Jehovah’s Witness, and gave up any and all holidays and celebrations. It's basically a cult of party poopers. Another time she was Episcopal, then Protestant. She ran almost the entire gamut of spiritual choices, and I was always dragged along for the ride it seemed, willing or not. Most of the time it was not, but subject to her whims nonetheless.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
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Christianity has many facets, and is more a general category of belief than a specific religion. Technically, the overall family religion was Catholicism, and that's the way I was originally brought up, before her spiritual wanderings.
There was a regular neighborhood church,almost a mini-cathedral in my memory,with a very friendly priest that was NOT a child mοlester. Even though I wasn't welcome in Sunday school after too many uncomfortable questions, I did have an official first communion, with all the appropriate ceremony and trappings. Dressed in a suit, looking like a small angel, yet I was anything but. I went through the ritual, and the ceremony, but remember no actual faith or belief. I did what was expected of me, and what I was told to do,nothing more. It was a tidy affair, and many pictures were taken,but that's society. We go through the gestures,do whats considered "proper", and smile for the camera, but with little to no meaning. Its recitation by rote, and we go through the motions of believing, but that's where it ends,In hypocrisy.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
After that, my mother started her church-hopping, so it didn't matter to me anyway. Wherever she went, I was bound to go as well, for the good or bad. Sometimes it seemed like she tried a different church every two weeks or so. A month or two if she liked it.
I remember being dragged to a predominantly black church, where unlimited christian exuberance was the theme. Most of the service was singing, dancing, jumping, and clapping. Certainly wasn't my style. I was not a singing,clapping,or celebrating type of kid. Melancholy was more my nature, then and now.
Some things change with time, and some don't. I was never that happy back then, and still not today. I exist, but not much else. Evil and hopelessness has taken its toll on me, for my entire lifetime. Yet I continue,for good or ill, time shall tell.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
So my mother tried almost everything, except for snake handlers,or satanists, and hare krishnas, good thing too, they are quite dirty, from what I've seen. The whole time she was looking for something she didn't know she was searching for. God, meaning to life, real love, or simply to be accepted somewhere, to truly be a part of something bigger. As I've mentioned before, she was considered the “black sheep” of the family, and for good reasons. She was always hateful, petty, destructive, spiteful, and contrary. To her parents, and both her sisters,she was unloved by choice seemingly. She would do things to spite them all, whenever she could. It was not only simple single events, but very nature. Like she was born under different stars, and despised her family automatically, never appreciated them, and was therefore ousted. Born of the family, but not part of it.
My grandmother would have sympathy for her sometimes, or maybe just for me, since I was family, but I didn't ask to be her child, but yet I was family nonetheless. The only good toys I remember having were from my grandparents, never my mother.
There was a very old game, called “Bombs away”, I got from them, also something called “Big Trak”, and “Stretch Armstrong”, always from my grandparents, my mother didn't usually give me anything besides minimal meals and beatings..
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
Maybe she felt that since she was feeding and housing me, that would suffice, and no more than that.Other then saving me from the blizzard, she went through the motions of being a mother, never more than that. I was her son, but also her burden, the weight she carried always, whether she wanted it or not. My grandmother would stop by almost weekly with groceries, and small treats for me. Out of love? I'm not sure to this day, but out of familial obligation, certainly. If not for her efforts, I may have starved far more than I did. She helped in her small way,although my mother never seemed grateful.
They argued constantly, but I cannot remember what they argued over. Mother and daughter problems, which I was never privy to. I was however happy to eat from time to time, since I got so few pleasures in life, neither from my time at school, nor the company of my mother, but at least I got to spend some weekends at the old family house on Rhode Island st. I suppose my mother was grateful from time to time that I spent some weekends away, not eating her food, nor taking her time watching me, not that she did much of that anyway.
My grandparents fed me well on those weekends, pancakes galore,cottage cheese, a personal favorite of mine, and steamed pork chops unlike any I've tasted since,and various other heavenly foods,as only grandmothers seem capable of.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
Much of the time at home,I ended up going hungry, and was lucky to have the very elements of food. Mayonnaise sandwiches, dry toast, or even simple bread and butter. Government blocks of cheese were my personal versions of Heaven at the time.Those were my staples almost daily. I subsisted because I had to, my choices were limited. My mother would get food stamps, and back then, they were actually paper stamps. Little colorful booklets that meant actually eating something, versus pure starvation. Those were the good months, compared to the less extravagant times. Grilled cheese sandwiches were the embodiment of my happiness. I was a simple boy in my tastes. I loved them in all their greasy goodness. I learned to appreciate the basics, due to the fact I rarely had them. For me, macaroni and cheese was the epitome of fine dining, and hot dogs were like a Heavenly gift. Only time I ever had actual hamburgers was when my grandmother took me out to eat, and they were enjoyed immensely.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
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One time I stunned her around 11 years old when I ate 3 whoppers at burger king at just one sitting. I've always enjoyed food, whenever I could get it. For years, my aunt and uncle had another tradition. For my birthday, they would treat me(not my mother) to a visit to a Chinese buffet across the Canadian border, named King Waas. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I certainly got their money’s worth every year. I usually helped myself to 3 to 5 full plates, that was my average meal, that was normal for my birthday. The final time I remember going,I actually had a total of two plates of normal food, and a record of 13 desserts! My aunt reminded me of this recently, since it was so memorable. I never got to eat well at home, so I thoroughly enjoyed myself once a year on these occasions. Ive never been one to hold back in my life, either through childhood, or adult life. I live every moment the fullest I can, and will til i'm out of moments, thats for sure.
 

Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
Around this time period, there was a project happening in upstate new york public schools. There was a group going through the system looking for unique poetry from the students, for publication in a book of poems. They were going through literally thousands of submissions, from elementary school students all across upstate New York, for works that stuck out, and worthy of immortality in publication. As soon as Joseph and myself got word of this, we decided to create something. Maybe a work that was simple, but personified whom we were at the time, and our attitudes. We wrote it equally, but with our hearts, and we decided to do a short ode to our third grade teacher, whom we disliked, and punished us often, but was no less worthy of our work.

We were in third grade at the time, and I reproduce this short poem here, since I was one of the authors, and certainly have the right to put it down again after all these years.

“There once was a teacher named Tolliver, whose students wished to thank all of her, so they took her away, and wrote thank you all day, Too bad they WROTE over ALL of her”.

That was our ode to our teacher that we despised, and as it turned out, It was accepted into the book of poems, and immortalized, as was its proper place, and therefore my first time published. They even sent Joseph and myself a copy, however, It was lost over the years, as many things are in life.
 

Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
Joseph was not only my school friend, and comrade, but my brother, in more than a few ways. His mother Carol became a part time mother for me as well. I ended up spending a good amount of time at his house, as well as my own. He lived on the east side of Buffalo, which was more than shady, it was downright dangerous, especially if you were Caucasian, as both of us happened to be. In America, there are bad neighborhoods, very shady areas, then there was the east side. Not just risky, but deadly at times, and i'm sure its far worse now. Death was easy there, and gangs were quite common.

Joseph lived with his mother, and his sister Mitzi. She was part native american,and a few years younger. I always liked her, as a friend, but never sure if she liked having me around, or just tolerated me, cause I was there, but I know Carol liked me. She was like a mother that gave a crap, which id never known in my time, only from her. Folks in abject american poverty suffer yes, but I believe they are far better people .They have a heart,and are far more caring, and loving, at least in my experience. They care MORE about others, instead of things, and I find that makes them far better people, as a rule,
So it's ironic to me. In my long life, those with the least happen to be the most selfless, and willing to share the most of all. They share what little they have gladly, and they care about others, unlike those who have much. Souls are more important to good folks like her, not possessions, or wealth. They are the very essence of goodness, and the least rewarded, at least on this planet.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
She ended up closer to being a real mother then my own, on the time I spent at Joseph’s house.
It was cold sometimes there, and uncomfortable, since the bills were not always paid,and sometimes the gas was turned off from time to time. Yet it was a home away from home, at least during the times I remember.. He first lived on Lord st, and I never spent much time there, but I ended up helping them move to wilson street,still on the east side, but seemed a better location, and bigger apartment in general. Plus there was a park right across the street.
Carol didn't own a vehicle, too poor of course. We ended up moving her entire apartment via foot and bus. Carol, Joseph, Mitzi, and myself, we did it all by hand. Every lamp, stick of furniture, and possession, we moved it all via hand or the bus, whatever it took. I was in a way part of his family, so I did my part, all over a weekend. We received some interesting looks, and frowns on the city buses certainly, but we got it done, all of us. Carol fed me often, and cared for me, far more than my own mother at the time, and Joseph was my brother in arms, and Mitzi was like a distant sister, so I would have done whatever was needed for them certainly.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
CHAPTER 11:Fun with Forgery, Friendships,and Christians
My mother finally moved into a nice apartment on 14th street, close to a public pool, and a playground, and the house owners were a born again christian family. They had a very large brood, many girls, and two boys. Of course, being who I was, I didn't exactly get along with any of the kids, or parents,and had my share of conflicts with them.
The owners were not just Christians, but devout as well, and quite strict as far as what they would allow in their house. We lived upstairs, but we were not exempt from their Godly rules. I lasted at least 6 months before it all came to a head finally.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
I was living the best way I could, dealing with the stresses of school, and my mother's insanity, as well as her church-hopping, which was a weekly upheaval,and I usually took refuge in my books and quiet time by myself. Being a young prodigy, I was reading adult type novels as often as I could acquire them. My way of escapism, from a seemingly hopeless miserable childhood, and the best I could do. The early works of Stephen King, Clive Cussler, Gary Jennings and others inspired me. Very adult reading for sure, but my books were my fortress, and my refuge. They helped me cope daily. Us misfits all have our own ways of dealing with the harsh cold realities of existence, and reading stories was mine.
Around this time,I helped Joseph and Carol move to a new residence on Wilson street, as i've previously mentioned. There was a nice park across the street, which is worth mentioning at this point. I’d either walk across town to visit, or take the city bus whenever I had some change to spare. True friends, and even brothers are worth a trip are they not? At least that's my belief. During that time, I've already been successful with a number of cons/scams regarding the school system then.
I used to turn off the ringer at home, so the school could never actually call my mother with their complaints, which happened to be quite often. As a consequence of my misbehavior, I also taught myself to become an almost master forger, for notes from school and such. I became very good at forging not only my mother's signature, but the alteration of my own writing for various teachers signatures and such, whatever was needed at the time. I'm nothing if not adaptable to the various situations I'm presented with, then, and now. I was a very talented kid, but not in the conventional sense, and was never recognized as such. I was never was appreciated for my true talents, either by the school system, nor folks or family in my immediate circle. In fact, to this very day, I get underestimated, almost always, i'm quite used to it by now, trust me. So the reason I mention this park again is this. Joseph kinda knew i was somewhat talented due to the fact of various incidents at school, but like many, even he tended to underestimate my abilities.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
It was not even close to being the only time I was underestimated in my intelligence, nor my abilities and talents, and the ability to adapt to a unique situation. In fact, it's happened quite often in my adventures, as persistent readers will see.

So we agreed to a contest, with his own mother as the deciding judge. He would write his normal signature, and I would have but three tries to mimic a close approximation to it. Something perfect, but with a 5 percent variation, within those limits. Who could be more biased towards her own son than his loving mother Carol, who took pride in all his accomplishments, whatever they were. However, I had complete confidence in my own talents at the time, and was sure I could do it. He couldn't claim biasness on the part of the judge, as she was his own mother,as I couldn't, since she was like a second mother to me as well, so I knew she would still be tough, but fair.
The stakes were unique. If I lost, and couldn't accomplish my task, I would have to run three full laps around said park (by the way, it was the size of a full city block back then), without stopping at all, at a good steady pace, running, not jogging. Every time I stopped from exhaustion, Joseph was allowed to run up and bestow one good kick in my keister, every time, I faltered, no matter where I was in my laps. A decidedly undignified punishment i’d say, and was not looking forward to a loss. It would be something i'd never live down, nor forget.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
    178/300
But fate was with me that day, as I am forever grateful.My talent and willpower was at its fullest that day. In the very second attempt I got his signature down perfectly,even though he went quite out of his way to make it flamboyant and hard to copy, he did his best, but so did I! According to his own mother, it was a perfect match, on the very second try, 100 percent accurate, according to her,and I was due payment in full, which I intended to collect in full. So he ran, and ran, and ended up stopping only once from exhaustion, which I took full advantage of. I ran up and kicked him hard in the rear, as was my right,, and after that, I suspect he determined to stop no more, even if he keeled over from a heart attack. One kick from me was quite enough, death before dishonor, I imagine those were his thoughts at the time. I would have probably done the same, so he ended up making all three laps, only stopping the once(with my well-earned kick), which he paid for in spades with his very dignity. Only once, which I have to say, I enjoyed immensely, to this day. Even his own mother laughed heartily, when I got my kick in a timeless moment, always to be remembered.
 
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Lordgoro

I Think, therefore I AM
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I rarely got the advantage over my friend/brother, so I certainly enjoyed it while I had it.

His little sister Mitzi was usually a witness, as well as his mother, I liked her, she had spunk, I liked her, but I was never sure if she liked me, or merely tolerated me, since I was a close friend of Joseph, and was around regardless. She was half native american ,her father was named Aaron, and full blooded,,but she had a lot of spirit, and strong in her own way, but was kind of a background character to Joseph, since he had such a powerful presence, , like his mother. They were both influential beings, in their own ways, and I am glad to have known them, to tell about them here, Carol was like a mother I should have had, and maybe Id be far more normal, if she was my actual mother, and Joseph and Mitzi were my real siblings, but not in this reality, alas, it was not to be here, in this reality.
 
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