Dear reader,
I really don't know why I'm writing this to you. But i feel compelled to. I feel i should tell my story, significant or not to the effort of showing juggalo's and lettes are not as we are commonly perceived. I just feel i should write, and maybe you will find it useful. Or not, no difference to me. It will be quite long, so if you choose not to read this, i will have no grudge against you.
MY name, to start things off, is Robert N Mclaughlin, also it's recorded as Robert N H Carracci,Robb H McLaughlin, and Robert N H Carraci/McLaughlin. Why i told you that I'm not sure. Anyways, I am 16 years old, and live in a town call Charlemont in western mass. I have only been labeled publicly as a juggalo for 3 years. But it seems I was before i was even conceived. MY mom, grew up in an abusive home. MY grandmother, was an alcoholic, and beat her and her 3 brothers constantly. Her dad, did what he could to help, but sense he wasn't with her mom anymore, and it was the early 80's, their wasn't much he could do. Her step-dad, just as bad as her mom. And while her brother left at 16, she felt she needed to stay, and did, till she was 18. She then went up to mass for the first time. And when she turn 20, early 90's, she picked up COC. And thus became the lette she is today. She also met up with my dad. Sure enough they fucked, before marriage, and after 2 miss carriages, i
was born. Before i was even 6 month's old, the coke head i called a father, either left us or we left him. All i know for sure is that we went down to Florida. and i was their for 2-3 years i think, total. That's after moving back and forth between lousisana and Florida. She had a few boyfriends and ended up marrying this richie fuck. And when i say rich i mean he could wipe his ass with a 10 dollar bill and make 5 bucks off of it rich. But apparently this guy sucked worse than my bio dad. He apparently beat me. I don't remember, wither because i suppressed the memories, or i just can't remember them. No matter me and my mom left for main, then for some reason i started to scream about langoliers being in main, so we went to Hawaii. That sucked. we rented a room. in a shack. one bed. And the owner was just creepy. Like not psychotic creepy, nor sex-driven creepy. More so the, Your not really all their are you, creepy. I later found out he was a burn out, which explains
the creepy i felt at the time. And every time i meet a burn out. So after a year their we took off to what i consider my home, LAs vegas.8-10 years i spent their, moving from district to district. school to school. From apartment to apartment. and for 6 months, the top part of a car garage. until she finally met my second step dad, and current father figure. With him, she was actually able to move out of minimum wage job's and get into managing. and then my life completely changed. Up until that point, i had no idea how shitty i had it, and didn't realize it until about 6 months ago. But even then we moved into another apartment. But this was where i, believe, i was first introduced to Psychopathic. At this point my mom was to concerned about giving me a life to really care about herself. Anyways i think i was 7, or 8. And i met this juggalo, and we hung out always while i was at that school. And we were two completely different people. He was a year older, knew more, was
into completely different stuff. Yet, we meshed. At the time i was young, and really care-free thanks to my mom. We were the outcast, and i think we had our asses kicked at least 7 times. We just pissed the older middle school punks off. Mostly because, i think we were happy. and they weren't. But we eventually, finally, moved into a house. And i was cut off from Psychopathic and everything about it until i was 13-14. The time from then till when i moved back up to mass is irrelevant, except it was the start of my depression. When i was 13 we moved up to mass again. Into the foothills of mass. It was here, where out of no-where and literally, the second day in school, the family their took me in. Good thing too, without them, i might just be an emo bitch. They got me back into psychopathic, preferably icp. And ironically the first cd i got was COC. an old Burnt copy with only 6 of the songs working. soon, after going through the phases that i think every juggalo goes
through i came to realize a different view on life. And during this time, I've been suffering from the fact, while my parents are respected, i cant walk around without a cop stopping and talking to me. No one trusted me cept for my mom and friends.
And it hurt. Weather or not i let people see it, it hurt. And it was driving me down. And the fact these bitches i kept getting with were turning out to be sex-driven sluts, didn't help. Fucking richie bitches. The family, kept me going. The support they offered kept me alive. And eventually, the ability to be where i am now is all thanks to them. And the message i receive. And more or so created for myself. See, what Psychopathic offered me, was family. It offered me something my mom could not give, which was family. It offered me a source of venting, a source of relief. Rather than myself or others. It took my anger, and frustration i had in the world, and allowed me, to redirect it myself. towards what i want to be. And for that, my respect for all family, is beyond what anyone can imagine. I really can't say i would be where i am now without it being their. But it was their.
IT was their.
They are their.
WE are their.
And others will be their.
So that way, we can all find our own way to lead us to our own Shangri-la.
from
Robb
