Why I love the Blues
I think of all the bad things that have happened to me, and all the things I’ve seen in my life. It’s sad, because I’m still young, are at least I was when I first wrote this (17). There are three forms of abuse. I have experienced every one of them. I’ve been beaten, nearly raped, and tormented by words so terrible it should be a crime to utter them. All by family, the ones you’re supposed to trust the most. I don’t care anymore. I don’t make excuses. I wake everyday with one goal: to live this day to make the next one better. I refuse to be stopped by limitations such as fear, doubt, and hesitation. I know I will endure, overcome, and ignore, pain, challenge, and distraction respectfully. I am grateful for where I am today, but I don’t see it as enough. My quest to obtain success began the moment I was given the hand I was dealt. My conquest has evolved into motivation and constant improvement. I will never say die, never. And that’s a lot like why I love the Blues.
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