I Was Not My Father’s Son

photo of man carrying baby
Photo by Alex Smith on Pexels.com

First things first my peeps! Today is Thursday July 12, 2018 and it marks my 25th sober day and as always, I feel like Tony the fucking tiger… GRRRRREAT! I just hope that wherever you are in this crazy planet of ours, you are having a good morning, good afternoon, good evening or good night. Always try to enjoy it to the fullest and don’t let nobody fuck it up for you no matter what happens.

On a hating my father note! When I was around eleven or twelve years old, one day, while nobody was at home, my father picked up his things and left the family without telling anyone where he was going, he even took all the money. To be honest with you, after a while, I learned not to care about him. I just forgot that I ever had a father. For around the next twelve years or so, my family didn’t know if he was dead or alive. I have to say, that without him, we did go through a lot of shit, but we did survive. The thing is, that I used to blame him for everything that went wrong in my life… and so I hated him with a passion. When he died in the year 2000, he left all of his children one thousand dollars each. But since I didn’t want anything to do with him, I gave my share to my kids. I remember that I only bought myself a case of beer, to get drunk and celebrate that he was gone. For many, many, many years, I blamed him for all the shit that I went through in life. Until one day, I woke up and realize, that my father wasn’t at fault for everything that I have gone through. I was to blame. I had to change… and change I did, because I didn’t want to be like him.

With that said! I am Audi 5000 y’all!