Chapter 1: 1
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monday 9 May 2016
Denis Guedj said equal opportunities are for those who are lucky. So how to do when you no have it and how to do to make it change so that your life is worth something? Although I swore to change my life, I still have not managed to find a single answer to these questions.
My life has never been easy. Born into a family that no sensible person would take as an example, I myself followed a very bad path that led me to meet three rather unhealthy friends. Now I'm going to give you a presentation of the people who make up my little universe and myself so that you can know who I am.
My father abandoned my mother, my younger sister and me five years ago. I can not entirely blame him for this because my mother spent more time praying than taking care of us all. When he left the house, this motherfucker hugged us, telling us that we were the most precious treasures, that he would phone us every day and would spend every week visiting us. I honestly I was not in a hurry him to come to see us because the only thing he never did for me and my little sister was to beat us. After two months of refusing to take my sister's calls, who did not want to lose his father, as well as the refusal to open the door to her new home, I and my little sister realized that these most precious treasures did not even represent a cent in his eyes.
Very soon after time we learned that he had settled with a young hight school teacher who since this year has unluckily became my personal tyrant.
Now let's go to the one that collects the errors, the biggest of which probably goes to her mother, who should have had a miscarriage instead of giving her birth. Nourished by extremist parents who still devote themselves totally to god today and drink more holy water than whiskey, they created a monster they called Susan. She reproduced with us the same educational scheme that she had followed to become a just and virtuous woman. However, she added her own components. She woke us in the morning at dawn, for a brief two o'clock prayer that would allow us to open the way to God as well as to hear it. After our return from school, another prayer of the same type awaited us. In order to purify our souls and our hearts, we had to ingest a decoction of various ingredients, one of which was the blood of a newborn lamb devoid of malice. Sometimes her character changed for no reason, she seemed not to be the same and when she entered this second state, or to punish us because we had made a mistake, she was locking up us in the closet of the entrance and then she was kneeling before by asking God for forgiveness for giving birth to two unhealthy and evil creatures. Longtime she sucked pastors around, but one day she desavowed them and their all-powerful superior . The reason is actually more stupid than you think. My mother wanted to have a son after her two daughters because she didn't want a extra failure as a genitor. But his god did not answer her request and refused her a third child, offering as a thank you for her days sacrificed to pray a sublime early menopause instead. She prayed, begged, implored again and again so that God would not impose this ordeal on her, and restore her fertility. Here again, his great and omniscient creator did not answer his call. Devoured by hatred, she burned all her pious images, beads and all her bibles and other crap of this kind and found salvation in another church.
The people of this church take all her savings, her furniture and jewelry. It does not matter to her, who now understands that material goods harm the soul and create inconpletes beings. These people are only crooks of a sect in New York and do not hesitate to stick their hands to our asses at my sister and myself to try to purify our impure bodies.
My 14-year-old sister Emie is also phenomenal. It seems that both that we look a lot like each other but with her four feet tall with arms raised, I doubt it. She is the one who matters most to me and the main reason I want to get out of this family hell we did not want. Unlike me, who headed for the path of petty crime, my younger sister, on the contrary, seems to have preferred to subconsciously to cease her mental growth at the age of seven. Immature and innocent, she continues to be the victim of other children her age.
Me, my name is Lisa Bastasky, I'm sixteen and live in Sandville. Twenty-eight thousand inhabitants, four churches, twenty times more bars is enough to begin to describe this paradise for simple and happy for all occasions. You pierce the tires of their cars, they smile thinking of their great foresight for thinking of putting two spare wheels in their coffers. You have fun doing graffiti on their all houses, they always smile remembering to have bought white paint last spring and say that the moment to give a boost to their home has come. They make me shit with their silly and joyful air in all circumstances, so with my three friends, we arrange to tear them away by ruining their lives so easy and perfect. No need to lie, if I were someone famous, I'll be closer to Paris Hilton than to Albert Einstein. Fortunately I have an asset.
Physically I am not ugly. My hair is long and brown. My clear blue eyes are my pride. I'm pretty thin, dresses mostly in black but it does not mean that I have a Gothic look. On the other hand I have one complex. At sixteen, I am already measuring more 5'7 ft, but it also opened unexpected doors so I do not complain too much.
Last year when I went to New York to search for new death metal albums from independent bands, a guy approached me and offered to work as a model. My first reaction to this proposal was categorical refusal but when he told me about the average payment of a photo shoot, I understood that to refuse this offer which could improve my daily life would be a mistake stupid. After a year, I was able to buy a 65 '' TV, an over-powered computer that only serves me to download music, the best scooter to go to high school and a lot of other useless crap. I also have a bank account that will remain locked up until I'm eighteen, which contains more than twelve thousand dollars. But this agent vulture steals me thirty percent my model fees. Thanks to this work to allow me to have permission to miss school and to earn money.
As I said earlier, I have three friends with whom I get on particularly well and together we have found ways to break with the gloomy environment that haunts this suburban New York City city.
My first friend is called Samuel, I have known him since I was six years. Like me, he is sixteen years old and we study in the same jail. Son of a local alcoholic pastor, Samuel hates God at least as much as me. He spies the poor sheep who go to the confessional, which gives us the raw material to have fun with them then. Samuel is a nice little naive boy which we abuse a little too much, but who is paramount in the execution of some plans.
My second friend smocker left our reality long ago. His apartment is only a cloud of smoke plunged into the dark where only the computer broadcasting Japanese entertainment twenty four hours a day emits a little light. Fan of cosplay, we sometimes find him dressed in Japanese schoolgirl or women's outfits he calls magical girls. Sometimes he takes us into his conventions because he also draws gay manga R-18.
My third friend, Dani is twenty two years old. His shaved head, tattoos covering his entire body, the implants of long canines instead of his original teeth and his two horn-shaped cranial implants do not leave indifferent. Dani does not work but inherited his very rich parents who died three years ago in the fire of their home.
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monday 9 May 2016
Denis Guedj said equal opportunities are for those who are lucky. So how to do when you no have it and how to do to make it change so that your life is worth something? Although I swore to change my life, I still have not managed to find a single answer to these questions.
My life has never been easy. Born into a family that no sensible person would take as an example, I myself followed a very bad path that led me to meet three rather unhealthy friends. Now I'm going to give you a presentation of the people who make up my little universe and myself so that you can know who I am.
My father abandoned my mother, my younger sister and me five years ago. I can not entirely blame him for this because my mother spent more time praying than taking care of us all. When he left the house, this motherfucker hugged us, telling us that we were the most precious treasures, that he would phone us every day and would spend every week visiting us. I honestly I was not in a hurry him to come to see us because the only thing he never did for me and my little sister was to beat us. After two months of refusing to take my sister's calls, who did not want to lose his father, as well as the refusal to open the door to her new home, I and my little sister realized that these most precious treasures did not even represent a cent in his eyes.
Very soon after time we learned that he had settled with a young hight school teacher who since this year has unluckily became my personal tyrant.
Now let's go to the one that collects the errors, the biggest of which probably goes to her mother, who should have had a miscarriage instead of giving her birth. Nourished by extremist parents who still devote themselves totally to god today and drink more holy water than whiskey, they created a monster they called Susan. She reproduced with us the same educational scheme that she had followed to become a just and virtuous woman. However, she added her own components. She woke us in the morning at dawn, for a brief two o'clock prayer that would allow us to open the way to God as well as to hear it. After our return from school, another prayer of the same type awaited us. In order to purify our souls and our hearts, we had to ingest a decoction of various ingredients, one of which was the blood of a newborn lamb devoid of malice. Sometimes her character changed for no reason, she seemed not to be the same and when she entered this second state, or to punish us because we had made a mistake, she was locking up us in the closet of the entrance and then she was kneeling before by asking God for forgiveness for giving birth to two unhealthy and evil creatures. Longtime she sucked pastors around, but one day she desavowed them and their all-powerful superior . The reason is actually more stupid than you think. My mother wanted to have a son after her two daughters because she didn't want a extra failure as a genitor. But his god did not answer her request and refused her a third child, offering as a thank you for her days sacrificed to pray a sublime early menopause instead. She prayed, begged, implored again and again so that God would not impose this ordeal on her, and restore her fertility. Here again, his great and omniscient creator did not answer his call. Devoured by hatred, she burned all her pious images, beads and all her bibles and other crap of this kind and found salvation in another church.
The people of this church take all her savings, her furniture and jewelry. It does not matter to her, who now understands that material goods harm the soul and create inconpletes beings. These people are only crooks of a sect in New York and do not hesitate to stick their hands to our asses at my sister and myself to try to purify our impure bodies.
My 14-year-old sister Emie is also phenomenal. It seems that both that we look a lot like each other but with her four feet tall with arms raised, I doubt it. She is the one who matters most to me and the main reason I want to get out of this family hell we did not want. Unlike me, who headed for the path of petty crime, my younger sister, on the contrary, seems to have preferred to subconsciously to cease her mental growth at the age of seven. Immature and innocent, she continues to be the victim of other children her age.
Me, my name is Lisa Bastasky, I'm sixteen and live in Sandville. Twenty-eight thousand inhabitants, four churches, twenty times more bars is enough to begin to describe this paradise for simple and happy for all occasions. You pierce the tires of their cars, they smile thinking of their great foresight for thinking of putting two spare wheels in their coffers. You have fun doing graffiti on their all houses, they always smile remembering to have bought white paint last spring and say that the moment to give a boost to their home has come. They make me shit with their silly and joyful air in all circumstances, so with my three friends, we arrange to tear them away by ruining their lives so easy and perfect. No need to lie, if I were someone famous, I'll be closer to Paris Hilton than to Albert Einstein. Fortunately I have an asset.
Physically I am not ugly. My hair is long and brown. My clear blue eyes are my pride. I'm pretty thin, dresses mostly in black but it does not mean that I have a Gothic look. On the other hand I have one complex. At sixteen, I am already measuring more 5'7 ft, but it also opened unexpected doors so I do not complain too much.
Last year when I went to New York to search for new death metal albums from independent bands, a guy approached me and offered to work as a model. My first reaction to this proposal was categorical refusal but when he told me about the average payment of a photo shoot, I understood that to refuse this offer which could improve my daily life would be a mistake stupid. After a year, I was able to buy a 65 '' TV, an over-powered computer that only serves me to download music, the best scooter to go to high school and a lot of other useless crap. I also have a bank account that will remain locked up until I'm eighteen, which contains more than twelve thousand dollars. But this agent vulture steals me thirty percent my model fees. Thanks to this work to allow me to have permission to miss school and to earn money.
As I said earlier, I have three friends with whom I get on particularly well and together we have found ways to break with the gloomy environment that haunts this suburban New York City city.
My first friend is called Samuel, I have known him since I was six years. Like me, he is sixteen years old and we study in the same jail. Son of a local alcoholic pastor, Samuel hates God at least as much as me. He spies the poor sheep who go to the confessional, which gives us the raw material to have fun with them then. Samuel is a nice little naive boy which we abuse a little too much, but who is paramount in the execution of some plans.
My second friend smocker left our reality long ago. His apartment is only a cloud of smoke plunged into the dark where only the computer broadcasting Japanese entertainment twenty four hours a day emits a little light. Fan of cosplay, we sometimes find him dressed in Japanese schoolgirl or women's outfits he calls magical girls. Sometimes he takes us into his conventions because he also draws gay manga R-18.
My third friend, Dani is twenty two years old. His shaved head, tattoos covering his entire body, the implants of long canines instead of his original teeth and his two horn-shaped cranial implants do not leave indifferent. Dani does not work but inherited his very rich parents who died three years ago in the fire of their home.
monday 9 May 2016Denis Guedj said equal opportunities are for those who are lucky. So how to do when you no have it and how to do to make it change so that your life is worth something? Although I swore to change my life, I still have not managed to find a single answer to these questions.My life has never been easy. Born into a family that no sensible person would take as an example, I myself followed a very bad path that led me to meet three rather unhealthy friends. Now I'm going to give you a presentation of the people who make up my little universe and myself so that you can know who I am.My father abandoned my mother, my younger sister and me five years ago. I can not entirely blame him for this because my mother spent more time praying than taking care of us all. When he left the house, this motherfucker hugged us, telling us that we were the most precious treasures, that he would phone us every day and would spend every week visiting us. I honestly I was not in a hurry him to come to see us because the only thing he never did for me and my little sister was to beat us. After two months of refusing to take my sister's calls, who did not want to lose his father, as well as the refusal to open the door to her new home, I and my little sister realized that these most precious treasures did not even represent a cent in his eyes.Very soon after time we learned that he had settled with a young hight school teacher who since this year has unluckily became my personal tyrant.Now let's go to the one that collects the errors, the biggest of which probably goes to her mother, who should have had a miscarriage instead of giving her birth. Nourished by extremist parents who still devote themselves totally to god today and drink more holy water than whiskey, they created a monster they called Susan. She reproduced with us the same educational scheme that she had followed to become a just and virtuous woman. However, she added her own components. She woke us in the morning at dawn, for a brief two o'clock prayer that would allow us to open the way to God as well as to hear it. After our return from school, another prayer of the same type awaited us. In order to purify our souls and our hearts, we had to ingest a decoction of various ingredients, one of which was the blood of a newborn lamb devoid of malice. Sometimes her character changed for no reason, she seemed not to be the same and when she entered this second state, or to punish us because we had made a mistake, she was locking up us in the closet of the entrance and then she was kneeling before by asking God for forgiveness for giving birth to two unhealthy and evil creatures. Longtime she sucked pastors around, but one day she desavowed them and their all-powerful superior . The reason is actually more stupid than you think. My mother wanted to have a son after her two daughters because she didn't want a extra failure as a genitor. But his god did not answer her request and refused her a third child, offering as a thank you for her days sacrificed to pray a sublime early menopause instead. She prayed, begged, implored again and again so that God would not impose this ordeal on her, and restore her fertility. Here again, his great and omniscient creator did not answer his call. Devoured by hatred, she burned all her pious images, beads and all her bibles and other crap of this kind and found salvation in another church.The people of this church take all her savings, her furniture and jewelry. It does not matter to her, who now understands that material goods harm the soul and create inconpletes beings. These people are only crooks of a sect in New York and do not hesitate to stick their hands to our asses at my sister and myself to try to purify our impure bodies.My 14-year-old sister Emie is also phenomenal. It seems that both that we look a lot like each other but with her four feet tall with arms raised, I doubt it. She is the one who matters most to me and the main reason I want to get out of this family hell we did not want. Unlike me, who headed for the path of petty crime, my younger sister, on the contrary, seems to have preferred to subconsciously to cease her mental growth at the age of seven. Immature and innocent, she continues to be the victim of other children her age.Me, my name is Lisa Bastasky, I'm sixteen and live in Sandville. Twenty-eight thousand inhabitants, four churches, twenty times more bars is enough to begin to describe this paradise for simple and happy for all occasions. You pierce the tires of their cars, they smile thinking of their great foresight for thinking of putting two spare wheels in their coffers. You have fun doing graffiti on their all houses, they always smile remembering to have bought white paint last spring and say that the moment to give a boost to their home has come. They make me shit with their silly and joyful air in all circumstances, so with my three friends, we arrange to tear them away by ruining their lives so easy and perfect. No need to lie, if I were someone famous, I'll be closer to Paris Hilton than to Albert Einstein. Fortunately I have an asset.Physically I am not ugly. My hair is long and brown. My clear blue eyes are my pride. I'm pretty thin, dresses mostly in black but it does not mean that I have a Gothic look. On the other hand I have one complex. At sixteen, I am already measuring more 5'7 ft, but it also opened unexpected doors so I do not complain too much.Last year when I went to New York to search for new death metal albums from independent bands, a guy approached me and offered to work as a model. My first reaction to this proposal was categorical refusal but when he told me about the average payment of a photo shoot, I understood that to refuse this offer which could improve my daily life would be a mistake stupid. After a year, I was able to buy a 65 '' TV, an over-powered computer that only serves me to download music, the best scooter to go to high school and a lot of other useless crap. I also have a bank account that will remain locked up until I'm eighteen, which contains more than twelve thousand dollars. But this agent vulture steals me thirty percent my model fees. Thanks to this work to allow me to have permission to miss school and to earn money.As I said earlier, I have three friends with whom I get on particularly well and together we have found ways to break with the gloomy environment that haunts this suburban New York City city.My first friend is called Samuel, I have known him since I was six years. Like me, he is sixteen years old and we study in the same jail. Son of a local alcoholic pastor, Samuel hates God at least as much as me. He spies the poor sheep who go to the confessional, which gives us the raw material to have fun with them then. Samuel is a nice little naive boy which we abuse a little too much, but who is paramount in the execution of some plans.My second friend smocker left our reality long ago. His apartment is only a cloud of smoke plunged into the dark where only the computer broadcasting Japanese entertainment twenty four hours a day emits a little light. Fan of cosplay, we sometimes find him dressed in Japanese schoolgirl or women's outfits he calls magical girls. Sometimes he takes us into his conventions because he also draws gay manga R-18.My third friend, Dani is twenty two years old. His shaved head, tattoos covering his entire body, the implants of long canines instead of his original teeth and his two horn-shaped cranial implants do not leave indifferent. Dani does not work but inherited his very rich parents who died three years ago in the fire of their home.
