Post by MASON JAMES MONROE on Jan 20, 2011 14:35:57 GMT -8
mason james monroe
nineteen - twelfth/mechanic - student - it's complicated
"
yo, bitches. the names mason, but you can call me mason. i don't put up with bullshit nicknames, not even just the ones that are my name short. just don't fucking do it. i was born december fifth. so that means i'm nineteen right now, and a senior at this rich bitch school.
i don't really know..a lot of people tell me i'm overly conceited, but that's not what i like to call it. i'm just confident in my abilities, man, and i pride myself on it, i guess. if you ask me, more people should be like that, it doesn't fuckin' take too much, haha. just be proud of what you are and how you come off to people, because if you're not comfortable with yourself nobodies gonna be comfortable with the shit you do, so every one needs to stop being pussies and be themselves for a change. it's getting fucking old.
a big..well, i mean, it's not a secret, but i guess not many people really know, is that i'm kind of addicted to sex..and when i say kind of..i mean i'm really addicted to sex. sex and beer. i can't drink that sweet shit, no. beer and the hard stuff that gets you drunk after a cup and a half. yeah, the ones that give you monster hang overs. it doesn't even phase me, the hang overs and shit.
more? mm, i speak my mind. always. something comes to my mind, i say it. i mean, if i fucking hate your guts, but you're hot as fuck? i'll tell you. i mean, i'll let you know that i wish you a long, painful death, but i'll also tell you every thing like it is. i don't skip or navigate around the point. the point is what i'm getting at, and i want to get there right fucking quick. i mean, i'm pretty impatient on top of that, so taking five minutes to explain or tell you something that should only take me five fucking seconds? no. i'm not going to do that. why should i waste my sweet ass time on you? i shouldn't.
i'm extremely impulsive. i don't really think before i do something. i just jump into things. if someone's attractive, what do i do? go up to her. if i don't like something that's happening, what do i do? throw a fucking punch. i say things and do things without using my head. well..my upstairs head. i have a short temper, so if you piss me off, i won't hesitate to do something 'irrational' like throw a punch or kick a certain band off the label. so yeah, don't fuck with me.
i have a tendency of remembering like..everything that ever happens to me and those that are close to me. i kind of have this habit of holding grudges forever. if you did something to me when i was a kid, i'm gonna fucking hate you as a teenager, an adult, and a senior. i used to watch the world pass me by and wonder why i don't move, and i've figured it out long ago that if i don't forgive, then i'm not going anywhere, but i can't will myself or get myself to forgive or forget, it's not in my nature and as much as i want to change everything about who i am, i can't..so if you do some kind of shit to me or anyone else that i love, be prepared to have a constant grudge held against you.
i like using sarcasm when i talk, unless like..you're seriously mentally challenged or mentally retarded. i'm not that much of a dick. but when people ask stupid questions, then fuck yes i'm going to make a rude as hell comment back to them that makes them feel like the biggest fucking dip shit in the world. i fucking hate stupid people. i mean, blonds are nice, i'm not trying to limit it to blonds, but blond girls especially seem to try to always live up to their status of unintelligence by purposely being stupid, and what's less attractive than real stupidity? fucking fake stupidity.
if you haven't noticed, i'm pretty fucking vulgar, and this isn't even the worst of that shit. haha. i throw around curse words as if they're baseballs. it kind of soothes me a little bit, and calms me down, don't ask why. i don't hesitate to tell someone to, for example, suck a dick or fuck a bitch, and i seem to get away with it all the time. it's especially bad when i'm angry or upset..and even more when i'm drunk. fuck is probably the most used word in my vocabulary besides like..the and it and that kind of shit, but if you have a problem with it, you can turn the cheek and stop fucking listening.
i also have a little bit of a tendency to beat girls. to me, they're only good for one thing, and that's sex. they're all just a place for me to put my dick. this is pretty fucking horrible and shit, but i don't think i've ever had sex with a chick that i didn't beat to a pulp afterward, just to make sure they wouldn't fucking pursue me or any bullshit. i'm sure that makes me a terrible fucking person, but i don't care. i don't have time to put up with woman's action. they don't deserve respect.
so, there's a few reasons behind the way i act and treat people, not that anybody really cares. i never really had a dad when i was a kid and my mother was a prostitute, and a good one at that, i guess... that's what she always told me when i was little, and we had a pretty nice house and there was always food on the table. soon, my mom became a little less into prostitution and just started bringing home guys. a different one every few days. they would provide us with a little money.. so she was a prostitute.. just.. different.
a majority of said men beat me and beat me in order to not hit my mom. i was smaller, and i couldn't really hit back. i was only seven or eight. she was a grown woman with a big mouth, and they were grown men. so even though my mom deserved to be hit and junk, they still took it out on me. but, there was one man who really put the icing on the cake of my shitty life. this guy beat me so fucking bad that my mom thought i was dead. she wasn't smart enough to check for a pulse or any of that bullshit, so instead of taking me to the hospital or something, she dumped me in a ditch. some mom she was, right?
by the time someone else found me, i was half dead. barely breathing, bleeding every where.. all that jazz. this little wimpy kid, he actually really resembled myself.. him and his dad were broke down on the side of the street, and the kid, braden, had gotten out of the car to help, but instead, he'd looked around. and thank fucking god for that. they called the ambulance and shit, then went to the hospital in the back of it with me, because obviously i had no mother or father to go, and i was freaking out and bull shit. fucking hospitals.. worst place ever.
anyways, my mother was contacted and claimed that i had gone missing. of course, i just nodded and went along with it, because she was my fucking mother. if i didn't, she would've beat the living hell out of me. basically, i went home to deal with the same stuff that had been happening my whole life. i still live with my mom right now, and he still beats the shit out of me every day, but with the way i am now, it's easy to just say that some asshole fucked me up. it's not a big deal because i'm used to it.
anyways, i completed sixth and seventh grade with difficulty. i was held back in the sixth grade because i had a lot of trouble with just about every subject. so, i was an older student, which is fine, i guess. then, in eighth grade i started hanging out with some older kids i met around the neighborhood and they started drinking and then i started drinking and even after they were gone out of my life, i kept drinking. it wasn't so bad at the end of eighth grade, but then during the summer it just got worse and worse, and it's pretty much a flat line, now. if anything, it's gone down a little.
at the beginning of ninth grade, i started getting into the sex thing. started off with the photography teacher, and moved onward to every other girl that i could get to sleep with me. sometimes, when i was drunk at parties, those weird gay guys would come onto me and shit, too. i remember that bull shit, but i only ever made out with a dude for awhile until i got that first fuck with a dude. man, it's nice and all, but i don't think i could ever see myself being more than friends with a guy. even to this fucking day, i'm really not sure at all about what my feelings about other people are, or my sexual preference. usually, i just stick to chicks with the occasional cute guy and whatnot.
"
irl
ohai, my name is alyssa, and i'm old. i've been in this game for two years, and you can contact me via JUST ASK, and i found this place by i am us ;D.[/center][/size]
sarina had gotten to bed late, much later than she'd expected. this essay was killing her, as if advanced placement world history wasn't already bad enough, advanced placement twelfth grade literature only made things harder on her freshman brain. she wrote numerous essays a week for both classes, and it was starting to take its toll on her as she worked and worked to become the model student for the two classes, normally succeeding and making the other students, who should've been on a much higher level than she, look significantly less intelligent. she set her goals high for her parents expected her to be something amazing, hoping for her to go into the medical field, or study law. they had already planned out her future and she wasn't bold enough to tell either of them that she didn't want to study medicine or law, but instead wanted to design fashion, or maybe become an author. she was neither enthusiastic nor passionate about her parents dream jobs they had set up for her. numerous years in the army had shown her father how much he wished that he could've gone out and done something much different with his life. he strived to be a doctor and help people in ways where he didn't also harm them in the process. he wanted to show the world that he wasn't some kind of monster, killing people to save people, it was like going to war for peace. he wanted her to be what he had always dreamed of being, so she could take care of him and so many other people in the process; to make a difference in the world and prove that women are just as intelligent and capable as men are.
her mother, on the other hand, had different dreams for her daughter. as a child, she'd grown up in northern mexico, almost on the border into the united states. she'd grown up with many dreams for herself, but her family never found the money to send her to college. she shot for the moon, but apparently, the rocket launcher didn't light. as a teenager and young adult living in mexico, she'd been one of the only people to know of harvard and other ivy league colleges in the united states. she wanted to be the best of the best, but never got the chance, which is why she wanted her daughter to be a famous graduate of harvard and extremely successful lawyer, like she had wanted to do so badly, but was never given the opportunity to become great, or to do the things she wanted to do. she wanted the young girl to become everything she had wanted to be and more. she wanted her daughter to grow up happier than she ever could've dreamed of, and while they were in no way rich, but they weren't poor, either. sarina had never known what it was like to struggle or be desperate for money, not at this point of her life, at least. the freshman knew, though, that she would become a doctor or a lawyer when she got older. she wasn't bold enough to go against her parent's wishes and dreams, hers were no where near as important as their. she had been born to please her parents to an extent, and that was definately included. she didn't want to disappoint them any more than she wanted to die before she turned eightteen, or got married, or had kids that she could take care of.
the small girl woke up around eight, earlier than she would've guessed with the time she'd managed to wrap herself in her blankets and drift off to sleep. for what felt like hours, she laid, staring at the wall, waiting for something to happen. awaiting the second someone would call, or text her..it didn't happen. it wasn't like she could just skip down the hall into a siblings room and suggest they do something, because she had no siblings, just herself and her parents, who were out of town for the weekend. two days had never seemed so long to her before, but now that the house was quiet; so quiet that she was having a slight panick attack. it wasn't normal for her to not hear her parents talking about her future in another room. she had that feeling that someone was watching you, but when you looked there was nobody. that sensation that creeped up your spine when you saw a shadow out of the corner of your eye, but when you snapped your head in that direction, you saw nobody. it thoroughly creeped her out, and she just wanted someone beside her to talk to and to keep her safe, her house was too big for her to be in there all alone. after awhile, she sat up, looking around to make sure there was nobody there, just to be safe. she wasn't ready to take any risks today. sarina threw her legs out in front of her and stood slowly, making her way to the kitchen after checking all the rooms and opening all the drapes in the house except for the one in her room.
she opened the fridge and pulled out the milk, pouring herself a glass before putting it back and opening the bread cubboard, smiling. her parents had gone to the store before they left, which was nice. she reached in and brought out the bagels, letting them sit on the counter. she opened the refridgerator again and searched around for the cream cheese, moving her fingers through the door, smiling slightly as her fingers touched the packaging of the cream cheese. she shut the fridge with one hand and opened a drawer with the other, easily extracting a butter knife, bumping her hip into the drawer to close it. quietly, she pulled the top off of the cream cheese, setting the knife ontop of it before untwirling the top of the plastic the bagels were stored in, reaching her hand in almost hesitently before setting one on the counter. she twirled the top back up and put it back in the cubboard, taking the knife in one hand and the bagel in the other. she cut into the pastry, setting down one of the halves, dipping the knife back into the cream cheese, wiping the remanents onto the bagel until there was a thin line of cream cheese on the bagel, setting the cream cheese side down on the other, she snapped the lid into place, shoving the pack back into the fridge, picking up her bagel and the knife, starting back to the bedroom, dropping the metal back into the sink as she walked past. as she entered her room she shivered a tad bit, sitting down at her computer desk, pressing the on button, giggling as the computer started up. it was almost as though it was angry.
taking a bite of her bagel, sarina signed into aim, setting her status to something somewhat pessimistic and depressing, pulling the blanket off of her bed and around her body as her boyfriend instant messaged her, a smile lighting up her face. for some reason, he made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world, the sensation of butterflies fluttering through her stomach took over her body and she set he pastry down as she typed a small message back to him. they had talked the night before, in fact, he had talked her to sleep, in a good way. it felt like it had been years since she'd seen him, when in reality it had only been a day, but one could suppose love did that to a person. their conversation came to an end around five minutes later and a happy smile was spread across her lips again. he was coming over and...she looked like shit. but apparently, he didn't care about that. he always knew what to say to make her feel better about herself. sarina stood up and looked around, biting her lip. her room was a disaster, clothes and stuffed animals everywhere. she moved quickly, throwing all her clothes into a basket and setting all her stuffed animals onto her dresser. she moved down the hall and dropped her clothes in the laundry room, coming back to her room to make her bed quickly, shivering slightly. short shorts and a tank top weren't exactly the pajama's she'd wanted to stay in, but she would because she had already described them to him. she picked up her spare blanket and sat on the couch, waiting for him quietly.
