Street Prostitution: a logical outcome in a way

In a way my life made perfect sense given the reality that there are few happy endings outside of a brothel. Most kids born into bad situations have lives that show exactly that. Both parents seriously mentally ill with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder–lots of hearing voices and self mutilation through cutting. Then you have history of rejection by would be adoptive parents who thought the pregnant white woman they took in was going to produce a white baby. They were in for an unhappy surprise when they got a look at me. After that, a history of foster care, until I settled into a permanent situation with people who took in foster children because there is money to be made in unwanted kids. The state sends you a check if you house these kids. Food, clothing, shelter, enrolled in public school. Done. In the future I would be grateful to have had that much, but as a young adult I was very bitter about not having anyone who cared about me, who asked me about my day, who comforted me. I was very bitter indeed, before I settled into an acceptance of what God had in store for me. I am sure God is good to some people all the time, but I am equally certain that God plays favorites and I am not one of them. If you are surprised that an ivy league university has me as an alum, all I can say is at least I am not the Unabomber, Harvard grad who does not appear in the university’s promotional literature. As of now, I don’t appear in the promotional literature either. But if fickle public opinion turns and I become the designated cool person, that could all change. Wish me luck. I understand being a pariah but I would like to know how that other half lives, the accepted half. I would like to be in the top 1%, not just economically but as a phenom. In a way, I could totally see that happening, crazy as the world is.

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