Hello everyone, this is Nemo speaking to you; and I have a story to tell! A story of romance, pain, love, lust, and all that is good and not so good, the beutiful and the ugly! It is the story of my life.
I was born a poor young country boy and I lived in a wood cabin located somewhere in the black mountain hills of Dakota.
Life was simple back then, I didn't ask very many questions. There just wasn't anything to question that needed to be answered. The sky was blue, and that's that. Birds can somehow fly. And babies come from the stork. I never really needed to know why the sky was blue, or how birds could fly, or where in bloody tarnations a stork would get a human baby! But life went on and that's all that was important.
I had a father and a mother. They both raised me since I was born till the day I was seperated from them. My father always wore these tinted red glasses and had really long hair. My mother, had hair past her bottom. I can't remember too much about my parrents though, but every memory I do have about them seems foggy. I always felt happy around them. I felt like I was lighter than a feather! Being in their presence was nothing less than bliss.
At the age of 6, I remember talking to my parrents. We were surounded by this deep fog when my father said "Man, you know what? I've been doing this thinking. Me and your mother have been doing this thought surfing mind storming, man. You see? We've been thinking and it's about time we admit to you and ourselves the truth and the fact that we have thought a thought that is most certainly true, man. It's about time you know that we are, your mother and me, are like the mole people or something."
I never fully understood what my father meant. All I knew was that my parrents were mole people, whoever or whatever those are.
I later found out at the age of 15 that my parrents weren't really mole people. They were just paranoid schizophrenic hippies tripping too much acid and smoking too much weed. That may explain why I always remembered being with them in this fog and the reason I always felt happy when I was around them.
At the age of 9, my parrents left me home alone to go on this magical trip to find their inner peace. They ate these mushrooms and crashed somewhere along the line and never came back home.
While they were away, I made friends with a raccoon. I was so lonely, but me and him went on many adventures. We started a club, played The Man and The People (a variation of Cowboys and Indians), had slumber parties, made cookies, threw rocks in a river, threw rocks at trees, went swimming, threw rocks at rocks, and so many other fun things!
Me and my raccoon were so happy. One day, however, this man came along and he shot my pet raccoon with his rifle. His name was Daniel and I cried for days when it happened. Daniel just laughed after he shot poor Rocky (my raccoon) and I never saw him again.
After poor Rocky died-i was 10 years old-I lived alone in the middle of the mountains untill I was 15. That's when they took me away and put me in this foster home.
