Nineteen.
On November 14th, 2002, I, Ari, was welcomed into this ruthless, cruel world with pieces of humanity scattered around it.
I came in with a rough start. Having low pulses which lead to my mother having an emergency C-section while my father folded towels.
My childhood is a blur, but I had happy and sad moments.
My mother and father were interesting people and showed me what the real world was like at a young age.
Showed me how to be utterly cruel to someone and turning around and pretending like it never happened.
My mother was, and still is, absolutely gorgeous and I envied her as a child.
Thankfully, I took on her looks.
My father knew how to make money and used it to make up for his absence in my childhood.
Thankfully, I’m materialistic.
I was good in school, but the people at school weren’t good to me.
I learned how to manipulate and punch people in the stomach while giving them a hug.
Detroit kids ain’t no joke, neither are the suburban kids.
I can easily look someone in their eyes and tell them a lie with no mercy at all.
I can hurt someone and knows that it had to happen.
Someone has to endure it and it won’t be me anymore.
Now, I’m nineteen.
In college, transferring schools.
I have the potential to be a success,
The potential to be a psychopath.
I have the potential to mess up my entire life,
The potential to mess up someone else’s entire life.
I have the potential to be a horrible, disturbed human being who ruins everything they touch
At
Nineteen.
The Paramour 