Sunday, June 18, 2006
The Story of My Life 1
I was born. It wasn't easy, not for anyone. Not for my mother, who swore on her mother's grave that if she lived she would take a knife to the privates of my father so as to never go through this torture again. (PS. she didn't, live that is) for me, who was slapped on the a** and sent to a strega of a nurse, who shoved formula down my throat and thought I was ugly, for my 8 siblings who now had no mother, and for my father who was left with nine children and no wife- who he never believed for a moment would have un manned him and of who he was fond, in his way, which was not much. Not the best start for a fairy tale, or maybe the best start, who knows. But let's put it this way, I learned about the rules of family from day one. I broke the first and main one, which is to never get in between someone and their mother, I got in the way of eight, big time. Hey, you do what you got to do, and I had to get born. Guilt, who needs it? Not me.