I was allowed to skip the second grade for reasons of the adult world but I had The others were eight in the third grade. Ok, by the time I was in the fifth grade, being now, ten, while most of the class were twelve and so much bigger than I, I was the target of bullying, big time. I am talking about a rough neighborhood to begin with, and getting at least a beating a day, I was afraid to head outdoors. The bully’s would actually chase me home and if I was lucky they did not catch me. no argument at that age, I was only six six. The thing was, at the age of six, to skip, placed me into an older class. These beatings would take place until I was ten or twelve.

So when one combines the attacks I received as a kid, and parents who were constantly fighting, a father who was drunk for as far back as I can remember, I was the one they always put in the middle to measure who was right. No child should ever be put in that situation, but I survived. My father would call for me personally when he threatened to cut off his feet, having me get a towel, a pot, and two sharp knives. He would make me watch but he would never go through with the act. But at that time, a ten year old should never be put in that situation wither. Basically, I felt so alone in the world so I kept to myself pretty much.

At eleven, I remember riding my bike, alone, when an older kid started to chase me for my two wheeler, stingray with the banana seat and whammy bar. I never received presents for any occasion, but a neighbor gave me his old bike when he got a new one. This would be the start of me, feeling deserving enough to own anything or except gifts graciously, go figure. So this older kid chased me into a school yard and I hit a wall head on. The bike raised on its front wheels and my head hit the wall, hard. That must of scared him because he left. I road home in a daze but before I got their, another kid walks up to me, grabs the bike, and punches me square in the nose, breaking it. When I got home, all my mother said was, how did that happen, then she walked away. I was eleven, no love was lost.

Now in middle school, we called it Junior High back in the day, I remember three different teachers beating me up at separate times for no reasons. I went to a very bad school where the kids were running rabid. I was a good kid, kept to myself, and always taught to respect elders, and ask questions when I didn’t know or understand something. Those teachers felt I was being a wise guy so that was their excuse for beating me up.

At twelve, my brother hit me in the head with a rock. I needed three stitches which cost my Mom ten dollars at that time. She was furious with me for getting hit with that rock and refused the doctor when he offered anesthetic which would have been an additional ten dollars at the time. Are we beginning to see a pattern here? Then they send me to a two week summer camp for twenty five dollars, not to better my life but to get rid of me I am willing to guess. This was the camp where the counselors wheeled canvas belts and used them to keep us in line and as far as I could see, we never did anything wrong. Maybe it was the time my brother, me seven, him twelve, placed shards of glass into my glass of juice causing me to almost die, well, I was told to suck it up by dear old dad.

I have been hit in my head so many times, the doctors say, one more time, and I will die.

One day we moved. I was thirteen years old at that time. I was left a note at the old apartment where to go. I rode my bike thirteen blocks and found the new address, which is how I even found out we moved in the first place. The house was a three story building with basement. My brother and sisters had their own rooms, I had the unfinished attic complete with bats, squirrels, and possums. I learned to cope by slowly finishing the attic in an artistic way. The home was a duplex and the neighbor took the time to talk with me at times. He found out I was interested in writing and I had shown him some of my stories. He gifted me a typewriter. He was kind and caring and I will never forget the man for taking time on me. By the way, this happened between the time my mother threw me down the fifteen stairs for no apparent reasoning, and the time my Father came home stinking drunk and attacked me with a hammer, just because.

Take away my newspapers and we will take it to the airwaves. Take away my airwaves, and we will take it to the internet. Take away my internet and we will take it to the streets. We the people hired you to do our will, not the other way around. How dare you censor words in your favor? How dare you edit out the bad things for your own political gain? How dare you go against the people whom, you were elected to serve? Censorship has no place in America. If those who were elected decide that they will call the shots, toss them out.

Our government has gotten so far out of hand in the least three years it is sickening. They prod us towards protests they want protested. We must think for ourselves again and the Government needs to wise up. In November we need to call the shots and toss out Washington on their butts/ No one tells us to shut up. Let us be heard, for we are Americans. Obama’s Chicago politics has put businesses on trial, he has called out people who strive to make it in this free country. He stamps out speech that makes him look bad. He put millions out of work halting oil drilling in the USA leaving us at the mercy of the Middle East nations. He creates rhetoric for corporations and wall street for making money as any capitalist would. The time is now. We need to speak out before we are not allowed to speak at all.

HotMix106, is an awesome blend of every kind of music, only the bad songs need not apply here. This is a feel good station because it brings you into that zone you haven’t felt in so long.

This is a best thing the internet had to offer us in a long while. You can surf the net while your favorite song is playing in the background. You can leave it on all day, and the more you listen, the longer you want to listen. Hotmix106, is indeed a variety show of great things.

If the evidence is the only factor, the prosecutor has nothing but a liar in the courtroom. If the defense did their job, and I believe they did, she will be set free on reasonable doubt. Time will tell.