Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Drama

Hi everyone, 


I’m jesse, and I am fucked up, in all kinds of ways. I can’t think of anything good of myself, even tough my friends tell me different. When I look in the mirror I see the most awful person in the world, that has nothing good on him. In my mind it’s a constant war, it seems like I have multiple thoughts at the same time, good or bad. And they constantly collide with each other, confusing me, and making me go insane. I always have the feeling that everything revolves around me, like i’m the only person on this earth. Like it’s all some kind of test for me. I always have the feeling that everyone looks at me no matter where I go, thinking bad things about me. And then I start thinking “What does he/she think of me?’ and it happens with every person I see, no matter if I know that person or not. I try to be good, make a good choices, I have a girl, but she's just like me, a little worse I may be physically, but she is a mental terrorists. I try to set goals in my life, the smallest failure she's throw it in my face, makes sure I relive my mistakes. I did some fucked up things in my life. I hit my girl while drunk, tried to hit her while she was trying to tell me her feelings, and I was drunk. Even tough I didn’t want to, and which I hate myself for. She says things that are issue for me, she steals my feelings, and then its all over she tells me I'm nothing. A bum, unworthy, and takes the flaws, I have to relive them I regress. im not a great guy, and I always try. And I want to do good but Sometimes I could be God and it don't matter. I'll always be this. The fuck up. She's did the one thing no one could, take my feelings and destroyed my pride. I feel useless as a man. I don't feel like a man. She tells her family all I've done. And I have to sit there with all of them. Im thinking about what they are. All this leads to me having discontent. I am ashamed of this. The abuse. The fact that everyone looks at me like that. I try to comprehend why the fuck is this my life. I think it has something to do with the fact that I don’t have any love in my life, even tough they say they love me, love can't feel like this. It feels like I'm useless and meaningless to everyone. I envy guys who feel like they take care of their families, and have a great life. while I try to do my best trying to get myself back up again, but still fail. Because I live in conviction. So when I tell my girl, It always start off good, because the thoughts haven't started yet she's not over thinking, and about how fucked up I am. Which leads to, flipping out. Another issue for me is the following, whenever I walk on the street or anywhere for that matter and people look at me I start asking questions again. About what they think of me, if they hate me for some reason, if they would know about all the fucked up stuff I had done in my life. Like when i’m in a mall I think every single person looks at me. When I look normal, my face always looks angry, but that’s just me being serious. But a lot of times when I walk past some guys they look angry at me, and that got me into a lot of trouble already, fights and stuff, even tough I didn’t want to. And when that happens, everyone thinks it,s me. I start thinking again if i’m strong enough to handle walking away, or if I can handle them in a fight. what would happen if they would stand in front of me, would they beat me to shit and so on. So that gives me already 2 reasons why I take the first punch, better them then me. depressing thoughts and failure (and even tough it's fight or don't fight. I still think about what I could have done, and why the hell I let those guys jeopardise me, making me think that i’m worth nothing). Then I think and it's because that's what I'm taught, I'm nothing. I constantly pull myself down, in other words, I have zero confidence. Even tough I always try to act tough, i’m fragile as glass on the inside, and the smallest issue or failure in my life turns into world war III inside of me, everytime, no matter what. I hurt everyone. And now I have this complex, I'm not worthy.
But let's go back a few years.


(Next page)

I have really no reason to continue living, but I do it mostly out of fear that she won't have me around. I don't  see any real value in my life im alone. At least I have time to say something. Between the ages of 13 till now. My only goal in life was to get as drunk as possible, and hide all my feelings, with thick walls. Every liquor and beer known to man I wanted Hell, I was the worst kinda drunk. when I was a teenager, I drank more, then an adult. I knew that this. All happened because the abuse from a man that took my child hood for me. It was like I have no friends, and no family. None what so ever, and I really never have. I am not a stupid man, but I got an ugly attitude, and disturbing thought process. I tried to make everyone around me hate me. I know this because people told everyone else. But it always gets back to me The only people who ever spent any time around me was people who were using me. Weather it was girls and they wanted to have sex. Are, a kid from the area that couldn't fight his own battles. See, when I was 14 or so, i got into the habit of disappearing for weeks at a time over to my girlfriend's house to... well, do drugs and have sex. This all lead me to this the Lack of parental supervision tends to attract the wrong behavior. But I didn't really care. I just wanted to die or get drunk. Having to occasionally use a window as the door. I grew up in motels and trailer parks. For the most part I thought this was life hungry depressed, a grown man touching and sucking.(won't go there) not eating everyday, being able to get away with anything. If my parents tried to stop me I would be 100 times worse. so they gave up. Some would say that's bad parenting. But they tried. I did the worst shit you could imagine, if I had to eat mustard packets, because even the ramen had run out. I'd make them pay (so to speak) My mother wouldn't care if I was home, so they'd kick me out because we had no food, but she'd be home waiting for all of us when she needed punching bag. (me). Sometimes she'd be drunk and pertend to do things like beat me over the head in front of company, little did they know it happens, behind closed doors. It seemed she was always scream things like "I could have been happy if it wasn't for you, or I should have just had an abortion when I had the chance! I moved out, I was 15, but I was broke and had just became a father. ( I know you don't  have to say it). Every 6 months we would be going somewhere else, one couch to another. years later we moved back to be around family. During this year, I was not allowed in most family members houses when I'd come around. Because I was drunk. There was often times i found myself locked out, and in the park hoping I'd seen a friend. I knew why they didn't want me around in the past. I didn't care back then, I needed to understand my life and need to forgive and forget. But I was a kid still. Mom got sober since about 2003. It's all for the rest of my family, I just got my past. They all stopped talking to me when they found out I was in prison. I don't drank anymore. I want to, need to. When I was able to buy alcohol. That's all that existed. Alcohol prevented me from jobs, friends, family, and anything i loved and. I accomplished. Anyway, between then and now, I've   attempted suicide 4 times. Never, successfully, obviously. I made my last attempt in 20016, but the beam wasn't big enough to hold me. I have this girl i treat like shit. I scream at her, I insult her, I hit her a few times. She don't deserve It but she's says the most hurtful things to me. No excuse. And it's really just took a toll on me. I feel less of a man. I messed up but she throws it in my face every day. Since I've found God. I haven't hit her, and I try to be honest about everything. It's not good enough. Now the table has turned and I'm getting mental abuse from her. But there's no sorry. It's relentless. I don't want to exist. Life's a full circle. As a kid it was bad and as an adult it's worse. Everyone says it me that's abusive. It's not. Wonder if they'll miss me. Probably not but i just go leave  a note and disappear. Before I go let me explain about my child hood and where all my anger and resentment comes from.

(Next page)

"All the reasons why I stay drunk. This is a Day I Cant Forget, I just wanted to kill myself". 

I was 10 year's old and staying at my dad's friends house for the weekend, like usual. Also there was my 12 year old brother, who the guy first started molesting. It started out kinda slow I guess because I didn't know it happened. When he would get me alone he would pull my pants down and he would move his hand around down there, hugging his body as close together as possible. At the time i had no idea what he was doing, if something was wrong. until my brother  walked in on us and we both just left the room, but we never spoke about it. I could tell he was real upset and he knew i was just as confused. I didn't see him much after that. The old sneaky fuck kept us apart, and gave us money, and anything we wanted. By this time i had forgotten, (more like put it behind a big wall). about the whole situation. One day While hiding in the bushes again the old sneaky fuck caught me during a game of kick the can, he whispered, "can i touch your dick? Thinking he was kidding, i replied,"shut up fag" next thing i know, i feel his hand rubbing my crotch. Then he reaches into my pants and starts pulling on it. Im frozen in fear. He gently grabs my hand and slides it into his pants, i proceed to do what he said I was in complete shock. I turned off my brain. thank God my friend came around the corner and yelled my name. I didn't know if he saw us doing anything. Ten minutes later me and Willy started to talk. Come to find out it wasn't just it was all the kids in the trailer park. in a neighbors yard playing around in the club house. Was the first time I talked about it. That summer we stayed around the parks and other friends houses on every chance we got. but nothing changed it seemed we always had to go back. Thankfully it was just fondling​ and rubbing our genitals. By the next summer things had started to escalate for some of the other kids (not for me though) We, "me and my brother" were seeing a kid leaving the old man's room, one after another. For the summer so we started sneaking around almost every night try to get everyone together and put a stop to it. But what ever his sick trick was, No one would help to speak up. This is when he first performed oral sex on me. Of course i was expected to return the favor. But I always got away, come to think about it if it wasn't me it was one of the others. Because I was always saved bye the door bell. We would go see who it was, when I realized that's my moment I would jump down the steps and say see you later. kind of became a normal everyday thing that just happened. As long as nobody found out, id be fine.(So I thought). So the next summer rolls around and im back at the same routine  and sharing the pain of knowing. It didn't take long to get back in the swing of things. As soon as he gets me alone he starts telling me about the last boy he was with and some of the stuff they had done together. He assured me that i was way better though and that he couldn't wait to get me alone that night. I was a little an 11 year old boy who didn't have a hair on his body and didn't really think about sex, but what was the difference. He didn't care. This went on for years now, it was our life. I was growing up faster then I wanted to I was, almost 14yo at this point and we all  was well into puberty​, and all every one could talk about was his penis had doubled in size and was huge compared to mine, told to them all by that old fuck. That Their balls had dropped and mine didn't, their pubes were coming in, and they was all horny as hell. That night i realized things just went to a whole new level. It started with the usual fondling and stroking. Then it was time to please him orally. But he was leaving me alone now. Sounds funny but I felt left out. He was hurting me by neglecting me. Come to find out some of my friends told him I was trying to start a rebellion. When my friends would come tell me they would  put it in their mouth that it seemed even bigger. I was only halfway down the block and it was hitting home that I had no one to talk with. He won no one cares. Now I've had him take my childhood, my brothers. And now he took all my friends away from me. I was lost, wanted to die, before but I've never been to this point of torture like this. I had to fix this. Things he could do to them me, and still my brother. Not only was i being molested every night before but now he was mentally fucking me. having his way with me any chance he could. A lot of pain, tears, and no one but me knew. He must have had me in the position he wanted, no one was telling and that's that. Every sick perverted thing you can think of he was doing. When I hit my lowest i got up I went over there to talk with him. Me I was a bad kid so I told him everything  I felt, and that if he ever touched me or my family again I'll would tell on him if that didn't work, I'd kill him. He did it left us alone for a few days then same thing over and over. It was killing me and I know it was starting to get to everyone else too. So i did the something,  I went to tell him, he was nasty and he better stop he laughed at me. Told me nothing was going to happen. I went and told my mom and dad, the sad thang is I did so much shot that they told me i was lying, that Mr Nelson was a good man. I got my ass wiped and told  I was grounded. I left anyways. And after that I didn't talk about it anymore. But I need to start the healing process. So here we go.

(Next page)

"Some of the better moments in my life".

I grew up the second  oldest of 6 kids. Mom and dad, who never made more than $10/hr. We were always hungry but we didn't go without, and I didn't realize how poor we were until later on in life. To me, that's just the way it was. I never wanted things, or asked for gifts because it just wasn't part of my life. 
I remember one year in fourth grade my elementary school had a program called "Food for Thought". You would attend an hour of after school session where you'd do extra readings and assignments. (It was BS) For each hour you attended, you'd get a credit that would go towards your food. After a week or two (I can't remember), I went home with a large paper bag of food (right around the holidays) filled with cereals, dry snacks and oatmeal. I was so proud of myself for being able to contribute to my household. I still remember the look on my mom's face as she opened the bag. I could tell she was so happy and it was in that moment that I realized I could provide for the family. I could come home with a bag of food every week, so i told myself! Sign me up! I went back to school the next day and told all my friends. And they made fun of me and called me a bum, poor, trailer trash. For accepting free food. Most of them were just as poor as I was, it made me feel  ashamed I never went back to try to get food. I would just say they didn't have any after school. It was also when I made the decision to never accept handouts, no matter how poor or needy I was.
Flash forward to my teen years. I was so happy when I turned 13 because  it meant I could start staying out. I would walk to every park i thought of all night in my hand mr down jacket and i was dressed for the summer time. I never asked my parents to take me anywhere because they were always working or too tired from working. At one point I had a part time job. Luckily it was a small town and thank god my boss knew my situation and was accommodating about my life and did all he could to make it work. My mom put up a Christmas tree (we only did it every few years) but we didn't have any presents to put underneath. Us kids were just so excited to have a tree up we didn't even care that there weren't presents. One day, our better off family came over and asked where the presents were. My mom must have felt embarrassed so that night she suggested that we wrap up empty boxes to put under the tree. I was even more embarrassed to do this but it made my mom feel better so I went along with it. Come Christmas morning, it was just another day and we woke up and went about our business. Christmas was never a special day- my mom had long stopped accepting gifts from charities once my brothers and I grew up. So as we got older, Christmas slowly faded and that's just the way it was.

Right around 15, I felt like i got married and started working full time. It was the first time in my life that I ever had that much money to myself. But I also just had a son. After everything It wasn't much, but it was mine. The first thing I did that year was spoil my family the best i could. Come Christmas time I bought them each a shirt and wrapped them as nicely as I could. I would bring the presents over two weeks before Christmas witch was a week after my birthday. My gifts would be the only ones under the tree. They were so excited about having gifts and couldn't wait to open them. Christmas mornings during those years was one of the happiest moments in their life not mine . The joy of watching my family open their present (usually a $5 tee shirt) made them beam with pride and almost want to cry. We never had a proper Christmas growing up so I made sure that going forward I would  make sure of it. They were younger than me and didn't start realizing how life sucked until later, so I never got gifts. I never really wanted gifts as a child and even to this day it makes me uncomfortable when people spend money on me. This is something I am still trying to work on and be more comfortable with.

Anyway...today my 1 out of 3 brothers are doing well and I have a good life, that I got right out of college. I don't worry about not having presents or going without anymore. In fact, sometimes I feel like we all don't respect our money and as soon as it comes in, we splurge and the money is gone. It is something I try to be conscious of. I recently heard the phrase "poor person mentality" and that fits me to a tee. I never knew I behaved in that way and I understand that if I ever want to get out of this poor cycle I need to change my thought process on money. I'm not that poor anymore but I still feel like I am because  I'm not making good money decisions.


My parents are doing better today. They still don't make more than $10/hr each but they take the occasional vacations to go visit family. They live within their means and are generous with love. My mom she's never had much, but she was willing to give you everything. My dad is the hardest working man I know, work keeps him occupied now that the kids are grown. He's a quiet man and never says much except for the occasional motivational talk with us about the last  beer is his always. My parents did their best with us.
Like I said above, we were never starving, growing up. They fed us first above all else and we cut back in other areas. I never knew how poor we were until later in life. It was just the way we grew up- that's all we knew? Life had always been and it was all we ever knew. We each got one pair of shoes every year for back to school and it had to last the "ENTIRE" year. As a kid, I never knew that other kids got more than one pair of shoes and I never noticed what other kids had. I thought I had a happy childhood. My family was very loving and we had a large extended family. When everyone else around you is in your boat, you don't know any different. How could I, as a child, dream of owning a house, cars or any of it if I had never craved one? The dream wasn't to own fancy cars or expensive or go on exotic vacations. The dream was to grow up and get a good job have a living family, and that iwouldn’t have to worry so much about my family.
So we didn't have as much as other kids but we did have a lot of love, encouragement and hope. This was some of the better parts of my life. There's a lot of bad,  some good too.

(Next page)

Back to the story of my life. ( STAY TUNED FOR THE CONCLUSION.)


I wake up every day with this feeling. I try to push it away, but it gets worse. It doesn’t stop. This feeling. It hurts. It stings. All the heartache, the stress…it gets to you. So if anyone thinks suicidal people are stupid, please realize that when you are holding the knife or pills like me, that it’s not easy to put them down. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to kill myself. 100? 200? I've try 3 times. But all I ask, is that you understand. Depression and suicide aren’t like diseases. They don’t go away after time. They are deep depths of darkness, and loneliness. Depression is like a boulder of weight always on your back. Slowly hurting you. Day by day until you say “Enough!” And it says “No.” It doesn’t stop unless you make it. Suicide isn’t about killing yourself. It’s about starting new, a clean slate. To forgot your troubles, and finally drop the boulder. Some of us took the leap. I really do envy them. Please just understand that we aren’t trying to be “selfish” or “hurtful.” We just want that boulder to stop hurting us. We just want to love,be loved live happily. I understand the feeling of hopelessness. It can so easily consume your life. I’ve suffered from depression on and off for most of my life. As a result, both mentally and physically I have struggled with suicidal attempts. Mentally and physically can both be killed with alcohol, and I tried everyday all day. It’s hard to go through life when your own brain has turned against you. Getting out of bed is a struggle. Taking a shower is a struggle. Try to have a healthy relationship, then when your having a bad day they think it's them. They steal your feelings, and that's all you have so you get really upset. Looking in the mirror is a struggle too. I wish I didn’t understand. Honestly, for a long time I thought that suicide was the nicest thing I could do for myself. I knew it was selfish to put my loved ones through, but at the same time it was so difficult to keep putting me through it. If i stay alive just for the well-being of others. I could easily rationalize it and say that they were better off without me. God, depression is a bitch. It has taken so much intense​ self-reflection and, yes, even opening up about this that's what really helped me. For me to realize that giving myself a chance to heal was the kindest thing I could do for myself. So I guess I’m trying to say that I empathize with suicide victims. When your own mind betrays you it’s hard to get back up again. But it's possible. But I'm here today, and I'm thankful. I owe my life two just a few people. I want to say thank you to Amanda, you have always been there no matter what. And to B what can I say you've been my rock, and a role model. One day I wanna be as strong as you two are. And most of all God thank you for your son, my saving Grace. To let me confess to you my sins. And letting me walk with you. 

Thank you all for reading my story.

Jesse Boston.



I’m going to make the politically incorrect statement that the gay homosexuals running around. Has a serious problem with pedophilia, including its incarnations like hebephili and ephebophili. To the uninitiated, those terms refer to the predator’s favored age of prey.
(Little boys).

"The Catholic Church’s" sex abuse was primarily homosexual in it's self. In all of the predators were male and the  majority of their victims were boys.

"The Boys Scouts of America" sex abuse revealed in 2012 was entirely all homosexual shit. Because they say, male predators were preying on male children and teens. Though male homosexuals is on like between 3-4 percent of the population, multiple reports said they commit a statistically higher rate of sexual abuse than heterosexuals. 

And let’s not forget that in virtually every society in history that accepted gays,(crime) someone gets molested. The predator is an adult male and the victim is a boy. If you have a spare minute and a strong stomach, im telling you go to a “gay” website. You will see photos and  photos of boys hairless boys who appear to be teens. I’m not arguing that all homosexuals are pedophiles. I am arguing, that the homosexual community is not immune to the infection of pedophilia, or what some people refer to with the neologism “minor- attraction,” which to “minor-attracted people” is just another “sexual orientation.”
(And “sexual orientation” in itself is a euphemism concocted to efface the difference between rightly ordered sexual impulses that are consonant with biology and anatomy and disordered sexual impulses that result in sterility and disease because they oppose biology and anatomy). I wonder if the poor little  boys whose mother sold him for 8,000 pieces of silver to evil men who used him as their sex toy will grow up to be sexually attracted to men. Oh wait, that can’t happen because the homosexual community says they’re “born that way.”


I know I don't run around touching little kids lol.




© Jesse Boston