To Anyone That Has an Ear to Listen:
I’m not writing this letter to tell you what to do. How can I tell you what to do, when at times I don’t even know what to do myself. Older people who have experience and wisdom seem to always have the answers. That’s not me. All I can do is give you my account of what I’ve been through. If you choose to listen to my confusing story you can. If you choose not, then you don’t.
My name is Aaron Cornelius Manuel Daria, I’m 31 years old, I was raised in San Francisco. I got half-brothers and sisters, but I was pretty much raised on my alone. I had a roof over my head and food in my belly. Even though I had parents I felt like I didn’t. I had what I needed, but my parents never paid any attention to me. Other parents hug their kids when they get an ‘A’ on their report cards, mine never noticed. They just argue about paying bills, and my dad being a cheater. So I never really had a great childhood. Since I never got any attention at the house, I got it out on the street where similar kids like me had the same type of problems. We all seen eye to eye, and we had no one to look up to. It was just us and the street, and we hung out on it all day and all night. I learned how to drink, smoke weed, and snort coke. By 16 years old I was looking strung out. All of us did. I was a good liar, it came in handy when I was cutting class to go get in trouble. I ran into some older guys that tried to steer me straight. But I didn’t listen because I thought I knew it all. My mom was trying to say something but I didn’t listen to her either. My dad stayed drunk, all he was good for was beating my ass, which helped me get hard. At the same time, I had no respect for anyone, including myself. (more…)