Mothers...some are great, others are not so [note: a little bit of reflection involved-don't read if you don't want to know].

I've decided to create another post because i dont think that i will be posting anything until mid next week when i may actually have done something. I have been in a really happy place recently :-), I was thinking [really thinking hard] about how things that have happened in my life and how things have turned out for not only myself but my family. I turn 20 in May next year [27th of May if anyone wants to know ;)]. I was thinking about when i was five, which is about how far my memory extends. I vaguely remember what life used to be like. It was great being at that age and learning exciting things such as numbers and colours. But then going home was always a blur...the family pictures tell a different story, we seemed happy, i smiled a lot. But i think i knew deep down things weren't as seemed. My mother had this addiction to the tangible, she was responsible for us growing up so quickly. She's still the same, except now she feels like she wants to be a part of our lives, but we're grown up now - its been 15years. My dad's always been too passive to say anything. I think that's where i inherited my genes. Last year i would have been too embarrassed to tell anyone this but i've grown up now. We all remember the time when she didnt pick us up from school [we were all still in primary school so i think my sister was 11, i was 9, my brother was 7. We may have been younger or a little bit older ]. We waited outside for her for hours, she never came. When she did come, we had already broken into the house...I don't think she ever felt guilty because she would always tell us not to tell dad.

That's the sad, sad life of sarorth. The truth is always hard to hear but it has to be told. Okay i'm going down to the shops now...It's a new stage of this journey we call life and my one leaves at 3:03 in the form of the 550 bus :)