Oh tigger porn.
Wild Flower

When I was 10, my best friend’s family was murdered. I was the one who discovered it. There was so much blood. Later, I found out he was still inside when I’d stopped by to see if he wanted to play, with his dad, his parents were divorced, he lived with his mom, grandmother and two sisters all dead on the floor, it was his dad who did it.

Nobody talked about it. My grandmother lived next door to them. This is how I found out my grandfather who was then recently deceased whom I adored was a member of the IRA whom escaped from prison in Ireland on death row and that my family (extended) was apparently still IRA. Growing up there were constant bomb threats. At least it explained that. But no, those turned out to be unrelated- were instead related to the Black Panther party and the black power movement that my family was deeply involved in (obviously we’re white and I grew up in a blue collar former factory town bordering a heavily African American city of 250,000 with high racial tension between the two, so that was either pranksters or the KKK, since we represented the Panthers, who sometimes babysat me).

I grew up, there was another bomb threat, this one apparently associated with the IRA, this one was real though, only two people died, I didn’t know them. Life went on. I forgot about my former best friend. No one talked about it. Another family moved in.

At 15, my best friend killed himself. We went to different high schools, things were going well for me, I was being nationally recruited for soccer with a full ride offer getting advice from former world class players. I hadn’t talked to him recently, he told me he was going to do it, he always joked about it. He asked me to meet him near a park near our house. I had practice and schoolwork. I found out later in the week he was hit and killed near the park on his moped. At the same time a former soccer coach was arrested for child molestation. I didn’t add it up at the time the two were connected. Nobody talked about it. Then a cult of suicide started that got nationwide attention but these were never connected, that was a few towns over, no one thought they were related. But there was a subtext involving drugs, satanism, friends of friends. Because one thing wasn’t talked about, it led to the next.

I ended up becoming alcoholic and cooking LSD and ended up going crazy. I then kept meeting crazy chicks I’d get involved with and we’d have crazy intense sex, most of them were coming from places of abuse. I knocked up a bunch of chicks and the cycle of abuse continues. Of course they never want anything to do with me later.

I became a poet, gave up science, graduated college and paid off my loans, worked doing everything from waiting tables to digging ditches, then I relapsed and OD’d and flatlined again, I’ve been clinically dead four times.

And that’s where things got crazy.

But things are so different now. So very different. Boring, mundane, normal, average. I don’t drink or go out. Haven’t dated in years. Work a lot. Don’t even smoke anymore.

I do sometimes write specifically about my past, as therapy, right, but most of the time it is present in some form in my writing but not explicitly as such, unless it is in this form. Usually it informs characters or their motives? If that makes sense? So sometimes my writing veers into abusive territory, and that’s why. Not an excuse but an explanation?

I also paint and make music. The music is… well, not for everyone. But that, some of it, is, can be, much more explicit and really just indefensible in terms of you know, abusive language. I don’t know why. That is the shit I don’t share, it’s blatantly offensive. I should say I share it in the sense it is online, and occasionally I’ll post links on Twitter, but I don’t like actively promote it or anything.

But you are honestly inspiring me to go back to that place and maybe revisit it and peel another onion layer. I know this isn’t group therapy and that it is public, but I can at least consider writing some of it, I don’t have to share it all- like you said.