Nothing But a Burnt Shell

the next few blog entries were written about two weeks ago, when i was in connecticut visiting family. this is the first time i've really been on a computer since then...enjoy.

Its gone, and i'm happy to see it go.

My cousin lives around the corner from where i used to live about fifteen years ago. its pretty close to the edge of town, its as bad as it seems. Its the part of town that gives Bridgeport a bad name. Especially my street. We went for a ride today, so he could run errands. This ride took us past mckinley elementary, the school my mom refused to send my brother to, amen.

"your kids go there?" imagine i said 'there' as if i was about to throw up.

"hell no. My kids go to longfellow (a muuuuuch better school)."

Sigh of relief...As we passed the school we approached other childhood landmarks, i pointed them out."and this is- was- my old babysitter's house, and where i was attacked by the dog, and this is..."

and then i saw it. The burnt remains of my former home.The third story was gone and the first two were just a black frame. All i could say was, "wow". My cousin gave a, "damn" of agreement.

For the lack of words i could say, my mind was racing. This was where i lived when my grandma Lula died. Where i got that self-inflicted scar on my arm that everyone thinks is from drug use. Where i saw the girl, with the baby in her arms, get shot-on my front porch. Did i mention the dog attack? There's so much more that i dare not mention on this blog.

All these things raced through my mind. No happy thoughts to mourn, just experiences i'm glad to see go. i had some of the most traumatic moments of my short life in that house. Six "families" could live in that house- six balls of negative energy confined to such a small space.

I wish i could have been there to see it burn. I would have roasted marshmallows probably. Done a dance. Cried. I could have watched all the bad float into the sky, into the dark, released from me.