Well where do I start, I grew up in southwest Detroit a predominantly black city of which is one of the most poverty stricken in our great nation. Being of Hispanic decent, southwest Detroit is considered Mexican town so I wasn't alone in that aspect of my life but in so many other ways I didn't belong. At first I was born with a father who was on his way to becoming a major league baseball player so one would think chance would be the least of this kids worries. Unfortunately my father wouldn't be ready for the fame and fortune that life style would present and there hence the conditions of my life. At nine years old i was made to be man of the house and so it began. Izzy that would be my mom's she loved me and my little brother and I could never doubt that. So it hurts to reminisce of the these tragic years. Like I had said she loved us so much we could do anything we wanted and I mean any fucking thing. At ten years old I made the decisions, like what I was going to eat when I would go to sleep and even where. That empowerment or delusion would guide me through my pain. As Izzy disease (as they like to call it) progressed from bar hop-pin to encounters of the most dangerous kinds of men are city had to offer she let me have more empowerment. Maybe that was her way of not dealing with a ten year old boy telling her to fuck off. Or that is how she dealt with her own disease by letting me have whatever I wanted. She had plenty of girl friends with plenty of their own kids, so usually that's who'd be at the house that night. If I couldn't handle them trust me they weren't going to stay. I remember this one weekend in particular we had gone to this hotel with her girlfriend and her daughters and their two friends both girls lets just say I wasn't alone that night. Little kids are nasty if you let them. And so Izzy's new bargining chip became pussy. I told you she loved me. Before you know it I was picking out my mom's friends based on if they had daughters or nieces.
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