/lit/ - Literature

>>15805956
OP here.

What am I posing as, exactly? A guy who wants to cruise?

Also I was raised by my insane father who came from a child molesting foster home, and became a professional award winning surfer, but demanded me to become a professional skater/surfer as a child once he was too old to be profesh and had to work as a surfboard shaper at his own factory.

I was forced to get up at 4:30am and be out the door by 5am to go surf in the pitch black morning, freezing in the dark sea. My father would bark at me to plunge under waves, as this helps you advance past the swell and get to the bigger waves in even deeper water. If it wasn’t for the wetsuit, my teeth would be chattering even more than they already would.

Later in the day I was forced to drop in on giant half-pipes at our local skate warehouse, where he would scream at me and demand I do a proper kick flip. This didn’t stop until one day I was in a motocross race he forced me to attend, and during a race, I stopped my bike in the middle of the other racers, took my helmet off, and climbed over the dirt ramp and then the fence, to stop being forced to do stupid sports I had no interest in.

I wanted to be an animator, but he had thrown away my secret binder of hundreds of drawings, and wouldn’t allow me to watch anything animated. I wasn’t allowed to read books, as he wanted me to be a skater/surfer who slayed pussy. My middle school had only 6 white kids and my days were surrounded by the lowest classes and races of the world, mostly black and Mexican.

Thanks to the correspondence from my father to the teachers, I was told not to read any extracurricular books from the sparse library, and would daily try to sneak some reading in before the librarian would escort me out, based on my father’s request.

He now owns a duck hunting boat tour company and I daydream of propositioning a father son hunt with him and blowing his stupid Irish head off.