Chapter 1: Italy
Generation X-Y
“Affecting back for the failure Black”
Chapter 1: Closing Christmas
This is a mixture of a certain intro and a certain push on reality. I’m regaining something that I’d lost. It’s time to stop bullshiting to myself and pretending that I wanted to be apart of something I only wanted to be apart of for an economic situation. The truth is, it’s better to have your soul than to have the economic benefits of poverty. Move where you have to over moving to the nothingness of forced heritage and growing Christmas over Christmas for some uselless tradition I’d worked my entire life to have the right to escape from. It’s time to regain the truth over something so disgusting, I’d rather die than give it control.
I’d waited 2 decides to escape to Mastronardi family for a pass off to New York City. It’s an experience that has been so sadly and desperately examined that they’ve blamed everything and anything for the very fact of why I left the family for 7 years.
At first, it was in the hopes of some esoteric manipulation, in being watched by others I’d played off the spiritual card that didn’t entirely make a lot of sense.
I’d blamed my father for it but it really wasn’t his fault either.
The very same drive that built my artistry was the very same drive that built me to leave my family and all the stupid traditions of the suburbs that forced me by the will of heart to write novels on why I left the suburbs. There were three of them and although at the beginning of my summer I thought I’d written something that led me to believe the end result would be returning to Fairfield, Connecticut; I look back on that now, after having the voices of my family re-mixed inside of me and realize I would rather die than give them control. I’d worked my entire life to end the fucking tradition of Thanksgiving and Christmas, to earn my way to the adulthood of making the choice NOT to go home and to treat family and fucking investors as they actually are.
I’d lived with their very guess that It’d been some cause of medication. After taking days off my medication and realizing that I’d felt the same way, being inspired by the lyrics oi The Arcade Fire song “Windowsill” that ‘I don’t wanna live in my father’s house no more” I realize why this very start situation began and the true boom of who I am.
I exist to represent the truth. As a writer, it disgusts me to play the suburban game of smiling and dancing for the economics. It’s a matter of principle that you have to eat, you’re going to have to eat somewhere and maybe it’s better to eat in a nice place that inspires you. But if you have to, live in the hood (which I personally hate and disdain just as the fact that it’s ugly) but live there over living in the smile and shift way.
This is all a matter of how I feel and my way of life.
I never wanted to go backwards to my family. I never wanted to be apart of that family in the first place. My father and my mother are one matter as my Grandparents had been one matter, but just the same in my mother’s family. I have no interest in indulging within her family for the very same reason. I don’t relate to these people, having blood similar in genetics does not impress me. It’s a reason to smile and say, hey, wow, good for you. We’re both genetic and we’re both fucking similar in some way. But I’d worked to find my way to New York City to escape all of that.
It’s been a disturbing thing that maybe all Italian families do that I now look back and consider as a matter of ‘what the fuck’?
Why do people have this need for you to continue their traditions?
I’d played this game as doing some “I’m a Republican” card. But the truth is I wanted to join the Republican Party so I could get rich. I don’t want to sit around and shoot the shit about family values. I don’t want to run around and force on and off some ‘good boy’ dilemma of being against abortion. I don’t want to represent my family or kiss the ass of either political party. Ever. And that’s just a simple matter of fact.
They will hold whatever they can over you and it’s absolutely disgusting.
So let me tell you some of the truth.
I will publish this online as I write it. Then I will as it is complete place it on the internet as a book on lulu.com
If you’re interested in purchasing my other work you can find it at http://www.lulu.com/forecastmazy
Now, let’s speak about the truth.
I don’t want to be a patsy for the Itlain thing.
The truth is, as soon as the Sopranos was over I was done with this entire idea of believing or pretending that I was into the Italian thing.
I never really felt because I had the same color hair as some of the characters in the Italian mob or because I looked like my family and relatives that I was “Italian-American”.
If anything, I’m me. And if anything, I’d rather not live in America anymore than to sit and worship this political system that goes back and forth between bullshit and high tide so to the point that free-speech is shit on.
You know what? Howard Stern, Imus and Michael Moore should say whatever the fuck they want to say. And I say that knowing that I’m for the pill industry and will likely work for Shire at some point. I’m full of fun contradictions and really they don’t contradict themselves at all. Because I will only represent myself.
I don’t really want to be Republican. Nor Democrat. None of them.
I’d rather just represent myself. Because really, what’s the point of worshiping and bullshitting at this age? Yes, I don’t have money, and yes there are plenty of the nightmare kingdom characters that I was so disgusted by in the my past. But in the truth, this is how I’ve always felt.
I say all of this on the birthday of my mother.
My mother set my free from all of this.
For years, I mother said “it’s your choice”
And the truth is, it is my choice.
I made the decision to see my father.
I make the decision to not see my other relatives.
It’s all up to me really.
I feel that they sort of force the matter on me.
That they desperately need someone to continue on this tradition of Italian American whatever t he fuck and I really have no interest in doing that.
I’m not going to have kids.
I’m going to get a vysectomy as soon as I possibly can.
I just don’t want a little version of me to take care of. It’s annoying and I’m not very into the idea. After seeing myself as a child and seeing my father I’ve finally come to the conclusion of what has really gone on inside of me.
It wasn’t that my father was evil. My family is not evil.
I just have no interest in tradition. Not for tradition’s sake anyhow.
I don’t care.
I don’t need it and I don’t want it.
All I want is to be respected to be free. To be left alone from these people who would haunt and hound me day and night. They would desperately need to know what I’m doing and follow me under all these steps.
Somebody came from my family and I didn’t know who they were on facebook.
When they asked about my family and introduced themselves I deleted them as a friend.
I thought that would be enough of a sign on how I feel on the matter.
I just want to be respected to be left alone, free, and either invested in by the blood relatives or not.
They do not respect that wish. So I have no respect for them.
It is all I have wished and they will not give that.
So that is how I feel on that matter.
Every man earns this right at the age of 18. It’s a choice you decide on.
These traditionalists wish to force their way down your throat so deeply.
They’re so scared of it that they’ll label you ‘gay’ if you don’t play Italian enough.
And whatever, if I was ‘gay’ I’d run with it because it’d make me so much money!!!
Imagine how rich I’d get right after the Sopranos end, to say I found my relatives and they made me gay! Ha. But no, that wasn’t the situation. It would be a nice revenge on stock word to say just on the fact that I’m not respected enough to not be followed around for the last God knows how many years or to be hunted down because I made the mistake of setting up a facebook.com account.
But now I’ve come to the truth of my theory.
I thought perhaps if I found my father and met him it would make me more of a man.
And it does, to face this fear. But it reminds me of the real reason that I left my family.
I just didn’t believe in these traditions that they’re so solid on that they can’t accept you if you just say no to them. It’s either you act overly within their Italian way of life or you don’t.
This has built up inside of me for so long, that finally, I am free in saying this.
This is how I feel.
And if my father accepts this which he seems to then I do continue to love him as I do.
But this is all I ask of my family, who undoubtly will read this at some point.
It is how other artists have felt before me and why New York City is a refuge for people like me. If N.Y.C. fails to take us in, then the city is dead as far as artistry goes and I’ve made a huge mistake in the beliefs I’ve held for 2 decades and everything I loved about New York.
If that’s the case, it’s time to leave.
And then, the city will flow into a very sad place as others like me would leave. Assuming that even makes sense? That N.Y.C. can became this picket fence American Johnny blue jeans place? The very opposite of why people love New York? If that’s the way it is, it’s over. The dream is over. Audios then.
Well, that’s that. Hopefully all have enjoyed my blog entry.
I’d played quiet for a period of time. But now, despite the childish condescension of relatives who’s words will remain in my mouth with ‘quiet down’ ‘don’t shoot your mouth off’; this is what a writer does.
I will NEVER EVER stop SHOOTING MY MOUTH OFF. From now on.
FOREVER AND EVER.
Amen.
“Affecting back for the failure Black”
Chapter 1: Closing Christmas
This is a mixture of a certain intro and a certain push on reality. I’m regaining something that I’d lost. It’s time to stop bullshiting to myself and pretending that I wanted to be apart of something I only wanted to be apart of for an economic situation. The truth is, it’s better to have your soul than to have the economic benefits of poverty. Move where you have to over moving to the nothingness of forced heritage and growing Christmas over Christmas for some uselless tradition I’d worked my entire life to have the right to escape from. It’s time to regain the truth over something so disgusting, I’d rather die than give it control.
I’d waited 2 decides to escape to Mastronardi family for a pass off to New York City. It’s an experience that has been so sadly and desperately examined that they’ve blamed everything and anything for the very fact of why I left the family for 7 years.
At first, it was in the hopes of some esoteric manipulation, in being watched by others I’d played off the spiritual card that didn’t entirely make a lot of sense.
I’d blamed my father for it but it really wasn’t his fault either.
The very same drive that built my artistry was the very same drive that built me to leave my family and all the stupid traditions of the suburbs that forced me by the will of heart to write novels on why I left the suburbs. There were three of them and although at the beginning of my summer I thought I’d written something that led me to believe the end result would be returning to Fairfield, Connecticut; I look back on that now, after having the voices of my family re-mixed inside of me and realize I would rather die than give them control. I’d worked my entire life to end the fucking tradition of Thanksgiving and Christmas, to earn my way to the adulthood of making the choice NOT to go home and to treat family and fucking investors as they actually are.
I’d lived with their very guess that It’d been some cause of medication. After taking days off my medication and realizing that I’d felt the same way, being inspired by the lyrics oi The Arcade Fire song “Windowsill” that ‘I don’t wanna live in my father’s house no more” I realize why this very start situation began and the true boom of who I am.
I exist to represent the truth. As a writer, it disgusts me to play the suburban game of smiling and dancing for the economics. It’s a matter of principle that you have to eat, you’re going to have to eat somewhere and maybe it’s better to eat in a nice place that inspires you. But if you have to, live in the hood (which I personally hate and disdain just as the fact that it’s ugly) but live there over living in the smile and shift way.
This is all a matter of how I feel and my way of life.
I never wanted to go backwards to my family. I never wanted to be apart of that family in the first place. My father and my mother are one matter as my Grandparents had been one matter, but just the same in my mother’s family. I have no interest in indulging within her family for the very same reason. I don’t relate to these people, having blood similar in genetics does not impress me. It’s a reason to smile and say, hey, wow, good for you. We’re both genetic and we’re both fucking similar in some way. But I’d worked to find my way to New York City to escape all of that.
It’s been a disturbing thing that maybe all Italian families do that I now look back and consider as a matter of ‘what the fuck’?
Why do people have this need for you to continue their traditions?
I’d played this game as doing some “I’m a Republican” card. But the truth is I wanted to join the Republican Party so I could get rich. I don’t want to sit around and shoot the shit about family values. I don’t want to run around and force on and off some ‘good boy’ dilemma of being against abortion. I don’t want to represent my family or kiss the ass of either political party. Ever. And that’s just a simple matter of fact.
They will hold whatever they can over you and it’s absolutely disgusting.
So let me tell you some of the truth.
I will publish this online as I write it. Then I will as it is complete place it on the internet as a book on lulu.com
If you’re interested in purchasing my other work you can find it at http://www.lulu.com/forecastmazy
Now, let’s speak about the truth.
I don’t want to be a patsy for the Itlain thing.
The truth is, as soon as the Sopranos was over I was done with this entire idea of believing or pretending that I was into the Italian thing.
I never really felt because I had the same color hair as some of the characters in the Italian mob or because I looked like my family and relatives that I was “Italian-American”.
If anything, I’m me. And if anything, I’d rather not live in America anymore than to sit and worship this political system that goes back and forth between bullshit and high tide so to the point that free-speech is shit on.
You know what? Howard Stern, Imus and Michael Moore should say whatever the fuck they want to say. And I say that knowing that I’m for the pill industry and will likely work for Shire at some point. I’m full of fun contradictions and really they don’t contradict themselves at all. Because I will only represent myself.
I don’t really want to be Republican. Nor Democrat. None of them.
I’d rather just represent myself. Because really, what’s the point of worshiping and bullshitting at this age? Yes, I don’t have money, and yes there are plenty of the nightmare kingdom characters that I was so disgusted by in the my past. But in the truth, this is how I’ve always felt.
I say all of this on the birthday of my mother.
My mother set my free from all of this.
For years, I mother said “it’s your choice”
And the truth is, it is my choice.
I made the decision to see my father.
I make the decision to not see my other relatives.
It’s all up to me really.
I feel that they sort of force the matter on me.
That they desperately need someone to continue on this tradition of Italian American whatever t he fuck and I really have no interest in doing that.
I’m not going to have kids.
I’m going to get a vysectomy as soon as I possibly can.
I just don’t want a little version of me to take care of. It’s annoying and I’m not very into the idea. After seeing myself as a child and seeing my father I’ve finally come to the conclusion of what has really gone on inside of me.
It wasn’t that my father was evil. My family is not evil.
I just have no interest in tradition. Not for tradition’s sake anyhow.
I don’t care.
I don’t need it and I don’t want it.
All I want is to be respected to be free. To be left alone from these people who would haunt and hound me day and night. They would desperately need to know what I’m doing and follow me under all these steps.
Somebody came from my family and I didn’t know who they were on facebook.
When they asked about my family and introduced themselves I deleted them as a friend.
I thought that would be enough of a sign on how I feel on the matter.
I just want to be respected to be left alone, free, and either invested in by the blood relatives or not.
They do not respect that wish. So I have no respect for them.
It is all I have wished and they will not give that.
So that is how I feel on that matter.
Every man earns this right at the age of 18. It’s a choice you decide on.
These traditionalists wish to force their way down your throat so deeply.
They’re so scared of it that they’ll label you ‘gay’ if you don’t play Italian enough.
And whatever, if I was ‘gay’ I’d run with it because it’d make me so much money!!!
Imagine how rich I’d get right after the Sopranos end, to say I found my relatives and they made me gay! Ha. But no, that wasn’t the situation. It would be a nice revenge on stock word to say just on the fact that I’m not respected enough to not be followed around for the last God knows how many years or to be hunted down because I made the mistake of setting up a facebook.com account.
But now I’ve come to the truth of my theory.
I thought perhaps if I found my father and met him it would make me more of a man.
And it does, to face this fear. But it reminds me of the real reason that I left my family.
I just didn’t believe in these traditions that they’re so solid on that they can’t accept you if you just say no to them. It’s either you act overly within their Italian way of life or you don’t.
This has built up inside of me for so long, that finally, I am free in saying this.
This is how I feel.
And if my father accepts this which he seems to then I do continue to love him as I do.
But this is all I ask of my family, who undoubtly will read this at some point.
It is how other artists have felt before me and why New York City is a refuge for people like me. If N.Y.C. fails to take us in, then the city is dead as far as artistry goes and I’ve made a huge mistake in the beliefs I’ve held for 2 decades and everything I loved about New York.
If that’s the case, it’s time to leave.
And then, the city will flow into a very sad place as others like me would leave. Assuming that even makes sense? That N.Y.C. can became this picket fence American Johnny blue jeans place? The very opposite of why people love New York? If that’s the way it is, it’s over. The dream is over. Audios then.
Well, that’s that. Hopefully all have enjoyed my blog entry.
I’d played quiet for a period of time. But now, despite the childish condescension of relatives who’s words will remain in my mouth with ‘quiet down’ ‘don’t shoot your mouth off’; this is what a writer does.
I will NEVER EVER stop SHOOTING MY MOUTH OFF. From now on.
FOREVER AND EVER.
Amen.
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