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Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Immortality...
Introspection is an amazing thing...
Through it...I was able to discover exactly why things happen to me and why i react to them the way I do... It simple...its just the story of my life...
As people close to me know...I'm a twin. I shared my mother's womb with my sister. We have been fighting since before we were even born. Oddly enough, though, for some odd reason...my sister received the majority of nutrient while we were in the womb. This explains why, even though we were born premature...
I was the only one who's weight barely totaled 5 pounds....if that...
As a result of that...I was a horribly sick baby. My stomach couldn't digest normal formula; I just ended up throwing it up. No one wanted to hold me because of it. My mother had to look everywhere to find a formula that I didn't throw up, and the one she found...significantly more expensive than normal. Hence the reason she says I've been a burden on her since the day I was born...
No one held me as a child. I used to cry...of course... I was a newborn. But eventually i stopped, because no matter how much crying I did, no one would pick me up. so I just sat there, looking at the raggedy ass mobile that hung it the crib. I couldn't do much else.
Then out of no where, people I didn't recognize...picked me up. They picked me up, and couldn't stop saying how cute I was. They played with me, blew on my half-nourished stomach, and made me laugh. I like that. I liked it a lot.
But eventually....those people stopped coming around. I wake up, everyday with a huge smile on my face, anticipating someone to pick me up and hold me...
They never showed up....So I cried. I cried alot. I cried till I was hit for crying. And I cried some more.
Eventually, I stopped crying. By this time I was around 4. I became horribly desensitized to loneliness. It's all I had to go on. The terrible stuff that happened to me from this point all the way up to when i was 6....didn't bother me.
The shotgun incident...
The 8 times my mother said she'd never come back...
The choke burns, cigarette burns, iron burns, curler burns, heater burns, stove burns...
None of it. I never once cried. Hell, that caused everything to intensify, and I still didn't cry. I got used to it. Pain was really all I'd come to expect.
Then, somehow out of the midst of the physical abuse, Keon Reshad Davis is pronounced gifted. I really didn't think I was "gifted', meaning I was given my intelligence. I think it came from those uncountable hours I spent in the library hiding from everyone. Nevertheless, I was incredibly smart for my age...
All I got was praise. From everywhere. From peers, family, teachers, strangers... I loved it. I was appreciated for something. People were drawn to me for something. People wanted me.
Then when I got into the 3rd grade...the reason I no longer had to be alone anymore....became the reason I was alone. I don't know what happens between 2nd grade and 3rd grade, but apparently being smart is cause for isolation. No, worse than that. This isn't isolation, as in people just leaving you alone. This is isolation as in people pushing you into a closet, locking you in there, and then laughing outside. This was torture....
"A child is the most innocent and cruel thing on the Earth..."
No one understood that more than I did...
This lasted....for a long time. Actually, it didn't stop until high school.
During this period of time, I did a lot of things, I didn't want to do. Just so I wouldn't be alone anymore.
This is when I lost my virginity.
This is when I smoked my first cigarette and drank my first beer.
This is when I tried everything I could to get rid of my intelligence, so I wouldn't be alone.
This was the second most horrible time in my life.
2nd because there were people who eased the pain (In the first, there were people there, lots actually. But now number of people could ease that pain...). One, the only person in my elementary school and middle school years who said being weird was cool. Believe me, I'd have been dead it that person wasn't there...
...That's really the only real one. Others I thought eased it...but in the end they only added on to it. Most of them joined in on the torture, others, who were supposed to be my friends, turned their heads and pretended not to see. And there were those who introduced a new form of torture...
Planting a seed, watering its sprout...and then chopping down the tree that grows from it...
But in high school...I just adapted. I mean REALLY adapted. After a HUGE misunderstanding about a somehow widely circulated poem, I, literally, became demonized.
I constantly had stones thrown at me. Even I, with my amazing threshold for emotional pain at the time, couldn't withstand it all. without some changes...
This is when i donned 9 bulletproof vests, 3 suits of armor, 732 condoms, projected 35 foot forcefield lined with 3 layers of 9 inch-thick bomb-proof glass, protected by a security system armed with 93 defense turrets, 13 pit bulls, and 4 lions.
Simply....no one got too close to me during this time.
This is also the time when I was the most vile thing walking the planet. I did so many people wrong during this time...had sex just because I could...
Or more accurately....because I couldn't feel any shame for it.
I really am sorry to anyone i hurt during this time.
Then, that started to get boring, so I indulged myself in alcohol, and all the activities that go with it.
Then that started to get boring too.
So I was basically in limbo, beginning my senior year. Not happy...not sad...
Slowly but surely though...things and people crept pass my security system..
And shut it down. All the gadgets, guns, armor, protection, gone. I was naked. Back to how i was when that first unnamed person held me as a baby...
I was played with the same way....
Held even closer, more tender, and tighter...
....And left...alone...all the same.
But in that new way I described...
A seed was planted...the sprout was nurtured very tenderly, it grew into a tall strong tree.
And it was chopped, hacked, burned, ground, and anything else that could possibly be done....
But it was still there. Sure it was bruised, burned, and slashed. But it still stood....unwavering...
Eventually though...these same things crept up again...made the tree shed its leaves, bark, and whatever else that protects it.
The chopped, hacked, burned, ground, etc....
And it still stood. The process continued. And it still stood.
It didn't want to stand anymore...but it was afraid of heights...so falling was out of the question.
Today I realized...that this is exactly what's been happening to me since I was born...
From the people who blew on my stomach as a baby...
The people who praised my intelligence...
The people who claimed they loved me...
It always the same.
Someone saves me from my isolation...
They get me to let my guard down...always saying, "I don't want you to fight anymore..." *scoffs*
I grow closer and closer to them, to the point that I depend on them more than air, which is what they said they wanted me to do.
And then they leave...and I suffocate...
Sometimes, they don't leave. Instead they take the rope and strangle me themselves...
And even after all this....I'm still standing....and every thing I felt for them is still intact, albeit a horrible horrible hole in my self-esteem...since I am, for some reason, not good enough for them to stay around...
In this sense...Keon Davis is immortal.....
I've always said...being immortal would be terrible...
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