And on blogs you can write personal stuff that no body truly cares about but it puts your head in a better place right? Well I don’t know but I’m going to do it anyways…now I’m not trying to be emo, or fish for people to care for me but I’ve experienced enough heartache in the passed two days for my liking. My mind hasn’t stopped racing so I’m sorry but I’m just going to say what’s on my mind. I don’t expect anything from anyone because you telling me you’re there if I need anything is a nice gesture but we all know there’s nothing you can say or do to help me so yes you’re sorry to hear this but it’s just a waiting game from here on out.

My dad had a bad cold and cough for two weeks now, pretty bad. He’d cough all night and go purple and gag. But it wasn’t until Thursday night that it was really bad! It hurt me to hear him cough like that, so I offered my assistance as I played COD. Made him tea, got him water, some towels to cool himself with anything. I offered to call an ambulance it didn’t sound good, he said no. I went to bed…and that is where I am angry at myself. 4:00 am Friday morning my mom woke me up to tell me the ambulance is on its way to bring my dad in. That…seemed like two weeks ago was yesterday. I got updates hourly, fluid in his lungs, rock solid phlegm in his chest. They put a tube down his throat, he didn’t like it so they put him under. Tubes through his nose into his stomach to eat, into his lungs so he could breath via a machine. He was doing good, he looked rough yesterday but I slept at ease, the doctor said he was in well condition. This morning he did a lot better than expected. A speedy recover was in the forefront of my mind. Until 7:00. Not only was the whether fucking horrible but he decided…well not really, but still he took a turn for the worst…not death, but close. His left lung was covered in fluid, on the outside. Putting pressure on his heart. So my mom called me and told me I had to get to the hospital as fast as possible…easier said than done during rush hour on ice roads. But I made it, avoided 4 accidents and slid through 5 stop signs. And there he is, in an induced coma with more tubes in his body that a August day water park. And there is my mom, more weak than I have ever seen her before. The woman I lean on when I can’t handle things has turned to me. Not I have to worry about her well being, my own, my dads…our family built so closely on our love that is never said. We never hug or kiss never say I love you and fight quite often, but that is just how we roll. And now there is my mom physically ill with the threat of loosing her true love of over 20 years. And there is me, scared to FUCK about loosing my dad of 20 years. But I had to leave, there was no good for me at the hospital. Whats more critical than his condition is family structure, because I swear if I lost him I wouldn’t be able to carry on. All of this because of a cold, because he didn’t want to go to the doctors! My mind is in every direction, I don’t even know if this entire thing makes sense, but I’m low. I’ve never felt so low. I’ve never lost a family member before so I consider myself lucky, and I’ve never taken life for granted so why does this happen to us? I just can’t handle it, but nothing is stronger than the Megaffin name, through world wars and depression…bad business partners and decades of people. We fight and right now my biggest best friend is fighting for his life, and I can’t do anything to help him! FUCK!

There’s plenty that I want to say,

But the best way isn’t through foot steps,

I’m the home of my mental congress,

Collective thoughts cycling down the drain,

I’m going crazy losing my mental train,

I’m pretty sure it derailed when it missed that turn at albuquerque,

I’ll keep my words locked up like I lost the key,

And who would have known that words would flow so furiously,

I feel like my hands have forgotten the feeling,

Or was it my mind just trying to throw it away,

But I’ve got plenty to say,

Though to do so with foot steps will paint the wrong picture,

Because I hold my soul higher than my foot,

I’ll map out this chess board like I’m trying to find treasure,

And walk it blindly like I’m a pawn under pressure,

I’m trying my best to do anything to impress her,

Talk like I’m a big shot,

Walk with some swagger,

But I’m actually nerdy and a bit out of my mind,

Got less flow than this poem,

When I think, I tend to lose my place,

But I’m actually nerdy and a bit out of my mind,

Trying my best to go through this with ballet type grace,

But I’ve lost my dancing shoes,

Left them in the cubby in my kindergarden class,

Or my locker in grade twelve,

Because I’ve grown past this high school ish,

But hopefully this poetry isn’t part of it,

I still feel like I’ve got plenty to say,

But my hands are stuttering across the page,

Like I am rhyming single syllables with my heart beat,

So lend me yours so I can distinguish what I need to hear from what I need to say,

Maybe I’ll take you on in a little game of four play,

Four words for each heart beat and eight words for each blink,

Then we’ll clang hands and drink,

Drink the subtlety of my voice as I reach in your throat,

Pull out your imagination and watch as your eyes close,

Focus on the reflected imagery of your mind on your eye lids,

And I’ll tell you everything that I have to say,

Because I’m not sure if you know or not, but I’ve got plenty to say.

My dad has some rough fucking chest infection. I was just sitting there playing cod as he coughs non stop. I can’t take it anymore. It’s almost been two weeks. And I just sit there watching him gag on his coughs. Watch him cringe in pain. His chest can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t sleep. He just sits in the basement and coughs. I can hear him struggle and I type this on my phone and I can’t do anything. I hate this. I hate not being able to help. Not being able to do anything. FUCK!

Okay I’m sure you have all seen the video of that poor Asian teenager in Chicago being jumped by 6 people while one other films it, well a father has turned in their son as the ABC article says below:

http://abcnews.go.com/US/dad-turned-son-filmed-beating-punishment-harsh/story?id=15426344#.TyDmAePLzZp

What’s sad is the fact that the father is part of the law enforcement as well. The article states that the father is now upset that the system is trying his son as an adult at 17. 

“Police have charged Raymond Palomino, 17, as an adult with one count of robbery and one count of aggravated battery. Three 16-year-old boys, three 15-year-old boys and one 15-year-old girl have also been charged as juveniles in connection to the case.”

 “This is very clearly mob type of behavior. They get a lot of courage when its six or seven beating up one person. And this just isn’t tolerable,” Chicago Police Supt. Garry McCarthy said.

Raymond Palomino is being held on a $100,000 bond. His dad, a single father, can’t afford to bail him out.”

What I think is the biggest fact of irony is that the father has set up a fund to get his son out of jail…

For more information on the fund, visit http://www.gofundme.com/freepalomino.

Now for my thoughts:

This kid has a fund where people are commenting like, “Why would you let a kid rot in jail”

I’m sorry

A) If you can’t do the crime don’t do the time!

And B) I am so up for changing the age of “minors” to like 14.

At the age of 5 you know that it is WRONG to hit someone, so at 17 you are of age to do the time!

That being said I can’t understand why ANYONE is willing to donate money for this kid who knew what he was doing when he stomped on the guys head to be set free. He knew what he was doing when he told the guy holding the camera to hold his gloves before he went over to the poor guy to punch him some more. The father should be ashamed the kid should be ashamed and he deserves ever second of it!