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The Birth Of “Hollywood Jim”: Part One

December 18, 2011

I was born a poor Asian women in upstate New York.  My momma slapped me and said, “I own the hookers, I own the pimps and the streets is mine”.  “Only one person can judge you and that’s God, now go out there and make your mamma proud”.  “Be  like a gangsta!”  Oh wait, that was Foxy Brown off her Chyna White album.  Dang….!  Kidding aside, the history isn’t that extraordinary, but it is mine.  I’m the son of two white parents from Buffalo New York.  SImple, easy.  I suffered  abuse from the hands of parents who thought they wanted children like anyone else back in the day did.  My twin whom I mentioned earlier was my protector and shield from a world of judgement.  Even at a very early age I knew I was different.  I wore my heart on my sleeve and still do to some extent.  It left me incredibly sensitive to others.  As the years passed I isolated more and more from people.  At around the age of 16 is when I became truly agoraphobic.  The thought of going outside to hang with other kids my age frightened me to no end.  Of course parents who allowed me to quit school so young didn’t help matters.  I remember the failed suicide attempts at home where no one knew anything.  Overdosing on pills and wrist cutting…all of it ignored and not talked about.  As I grew older I was forced out of that house when my father lost his job at the steel plant.

One day he just showed up with a car and said you gotta go.  He dropped me off at a childhood friends house with the family dog and that was that.  I spent the next decade getting hooked of booze and later cocaine.  I spent some time in therapy working with psychiatrists, but no one was willing to go the distance with me.  I was a tough nut to crack to say the least.  Anyway, after a full year of a cocaine habit filled with hookers and drug dealers I decided that I was either going to be in jail or dead.  I opted for kicking the habit cold turkey and moved to the suburbs where the isolation became even worse.  I spent 3 years locked in that house only venturing out every couple of weeks for groceries.  What an ordeal that was.  I was pre-planning conversations with people I may or may not run into.  Peeing in a public restroom?  Not gonna happen.

At the ripe old age of 33 I knew there was a whole world out there and I wanted to see it.  I no longer wanted to settle on a life quickly passing by.  I found a therapist willing to go the distance and one year later I was enrolled in college.  I hated that.  I couldn’t see the point of going to work everyday only to come home and do it all again in the morning.  How was this much different from what I had been doing for decades?

I remember praying for the answers to the questions I had.  I got them alright and within four months I was leaving NY for good.

I gonna have to make this a 2 parter folks.  My head is aching from my night out last night and I’m feeling like a lay down is coming on.  That and I can see the writing is suffering.  Thank you Jesus it’s raining outside.  Laying down in the middle of a sunny day just doesn’t seem right.  Late.


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