CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

March 20th, Sunday/ Today is the first day of the rest of my life so I decided to blog my journal. Lately things have been going all wrong for me so I decided to do something about it. I haven't worked a regular job in 5 yrs because I don't seem to qualify for anything. Why I don't know. I altered my personality a bit. I used to just cuss people out. Now I fake like I like people. I'm thinking maybe that my aura is still transmitting my hatred. I noticed that the interviewers would have this look on their faces like I farted during the interview and decided that I was wrong for the job or something. So, I decided to write. Now, in my mind, I can write my ass off! I majored in English in college and I knew that I did not want to teach. Have you seen the American school system lately? I would be hired to do bouncer work in some school in the worst 'hood before they would let me teach. I'm 6'5, 235lbs and BLACK! No way they would hire me as a teacher! I'd get the class w/ all the "hip hop" types. Of course they would think I'm down w/ them because... well, I do dress hip hop style but I do that shit for survival purposes! I live in the 'hood! The way I look, you don't think a real estate agent is going to show me houses in the suburbs, do you? By the way, I gotta start contemplating my next move. This gentrification thing has reared its ugly head again. (I wish white folks weren't so wishy-washy!) Anyway, I started writing in college and have been (writing) ever since. The reason why I have not been successful selling anything is because the college I went to had no network thing in place. Anybody that graduated before me was so fed up w/ the school that they decided that if they made it they would not come back to help anyone out. However, they DO come back for Homecoming! Homecoming is the time when people come back to their respective alma matas to lie about how well they are doing in the outside world, knowing that they don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. Hey, I've done it! How would they check up on me? The Alumni Association at my school never sends me anything. They say they don't know where I am. (I blame that on the gentrification thing!)And, I never stop by their booth at the Homecoming football game because I don't want them poking around in my business! Besides, at the college I went to, my professors never thought I would amount to anything anyway. They would be supportive to my face but... I remember having a meeting w/ the chair of the English Department one day and she was very encouraging in the meeting. When I left I dropped my book. Her phone rang. When she answered it I overheard her say that "...that sorry ass Al Brathway just left. He won't be shit after he leaves this school!" I've been depressed ever since./ So, I write for therapy purposes. I write so much that my hands cramp up when I pick up a pen so now I have to type everything. It's a good thing I don't have a girlfriend anymore. Imagine typing a love letter? (I actually did that and my ex told me I was an asshole and broke up w/ me. I think it was because I typed the love letter!...Bitch!) I have plenty of paperwork around. Partial scripts, poetry, short stories... I even moved to Cali to live w/ some friends and become a pro. That shit didn't work out though. The chick threw me out of the house. She claimed that I couldn't write so I couldn't help them. (Funny, that bitch never wrote anything. How would she know I couldn't write? I guess you become a critic when you can't write and I never felt the need to be a critic!) I'm tired. I'll write some more shit about my life tomorrow.