Saturday, October 24, 2009

The Long, Dark Path: Birth and the Carnival

Let's explore my past. It is restless, and demons need to be chased from time to time, instead of doing the chasing.


You'll find my past to be quite interesting, seeming it has not been written yet, only lived.

I, for one, find it very interesting, since I lived it.

This might be a little... eclectic, but bear with me.
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The Long, Dark Path

by Tangalor


Birth and the Carnival


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So I was born. I know, shocking.

My first memory was snow in Arkansas, my mother was pregnant with my brother. We had a Great Dane named Rommel and a Wolf/Husky named Pahoo Katewah (if the spelling for that is correct, I never saw it written down). I rode Rommel like a horse, which was vastly entertaining.

*scramble*

I was always a serious lad, with a stern look on my face at least 75% of the time. My manners shocked people because I always said yes sir and yes ma'am. Always.

I was quiet and reserved (Still am) and I kept to myself. My mother always told me I was an old soul and was born in the wrong era. I believe that. To this day.

*scramble*

I saw a kid get hit by an Oldsmobile doing 55 miles an hour once. He said he was superman. He flew over the first lane, no problem. The second lane... not so much. That was the day I asked my father if I could go to his (that kids') grandmothers' house, and he actually said yes. He said no on countless occasions prior to that.

That kid died. In front of my eyes. Doing at least 45mph across the asphalt... after being hit side-on, that is. I was 7 years old.

*scramble*

I was helping the Ride Jock (carnie who sets up rides) put in R keys into the correct positions in the ride (Carnivals are.... unsafe. I was 6 at the time) he was putting together. Ride Jock says to me, "Kid, you gotta get outta this place... if it's the last thing you ever do..."

I was 16 before I realized the analogy. I was well past 'out of that place' by that time.

*scramble*

I'm 5 years old, and my father has a gun to my head, and he's screaming at my mother. "Shut the F***k up, I'm taking him, not his brother."

*scramble*

I see tomatoes, and lots of them. I'm speaking spanish before I'm speaking good english. Nice babysitter, but she's killing my prep-school endeavors. Not that I ever had any.

*Fin*
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More next time. Hope you enjoyed the trip... and yes, this all happened, but not in the order it appeared, and certainly I'll explain it all... somehow... sometime.

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