The life and times of Jack Wise.
Life on the run.
I run, therefore I am free.
I suck at titles.
What not to name your journal.
_________
I really do suck at titles, and it's not like this is going to be a book that has a shot at becoming a movie. I wonder who'd play me?
I was told to write down my thoughts and feelings, even if no one gets to see them. Who knows, maybe I shouldn't take the word of a shrink with an office in a strip mall. He only charges ten bucks an hour, and his wardrobe shows that it's money well spent. Not that I am a fashion model, but damn.
So, I am A.J. "Jack" Wise. I was named after both of my grandpas on the day I was born, March 23, 1989. The place I was born may as well have been called Podunk, but no the little town is called Stillwater, and it's in Texas. Texans claim Stillwater is a suburb of Houston, but it's more like absorbed into Houston, and that'd be a cool place to live. Instead of a little burb that grew into Pasadena, Texas, which was engulfed by Houston, the place where I was born is out between Hebbronville, Laredo, and Alice. Instead of One hundred and fifty-two thousand people, we had one hundred and fifty-two, period.
We had farms. Everyone in the family worked the same piece of land, which seemed to be as far as the eye could see. I haven't been back in some time, but I'm sure it doesn't seem as big. I grew up like kids on the farms do. We had livestock of all kinds, tractors, farm equipment and that sort of thing. By the time I was four, I could shoot a squirrel out of the tree and skin it. Killed my first buck when I was six. I knew all about life and death. We buried great-grandparents in the family plots, butchered out prize hogs, cattle, whatever for our freezers, and we were up with the sun, in bed after dark. It was a simple, but very relaxing life.
Stillwater had one school for all grades. I know, it seems weird, but it worked for the people that lived there. A couple of years the teachers worked on farms because there were no school age kids. We'd already moved through to the other grades and no one had enough money to make their family bigger. Usually, the population would fluctuate around a graduating class. Some kids would take off chasing dreams away from farms and milking cows, others were starting families of their own way too young.
I planned to stay there. My family was there, my girl was there, and everything I knew and wanted was in that little town. On the year of my sixteenth birthday, it all changed.
Life on the run.
I run, therefore I am free.
I suck at titles.
What not to name your journal.
_________
I really do suck at titles, and it's not like this is going to be a book that has a shot at becoming a movie. I wonder who'd play me?
I was told to write down my thoughts and feelings, even if no one gets to see them. Who knows, maybe I shouldn't take the word of a shrink with an office in a strip mall. He only charges ten bucks an hour, and his wardrobe shows that it's money well spent. Not that I am a fashion model, but damn.
So, I am A.J. "Jack" Wise. I was named after both of my grandpas on the day I was born, March 23, 1989. The place I was born may as well have been called Podunk, but no the little town is called Stillwater, and it's in Texas. Texans claim Stillwater is a suburb of Houston, but it's more like absorbed into Houston, and that'd be a cool place to live. Instead of a little burb that grew into Pasadena, Texas, which was engulfed by Houston, the place where I was born is out between Hebbronville, Laredo, and Alice. Instead of One hundred and fifty-two thousand people, we had one hundred and fifty-two, period.
We had farms. Everyone in the family worked the same piece of land, which seemed to be as far as the eye could see. I haven't been back in some time, but I'm sure it doesn't seem as big. I grew up like kids on the farms do. We had livestock of all kinds, tractors, farm equipment and that sort of thing. By the time I was four, I could shoot a squirrel out of the tree and skin it. Killed my first buck when I was six. I knew all about life and death. We buried great-grandparents in the family plots, butchered out prize hogs, cattle, whatever for our freezers, and we were up with the sun, in bed after dark. It was a simple, but very relaxing life.
Stillwater had one school for all grades. I know, it seems weird, but it worked for the people that lived there. A couple of years the teachers worked on farms because there were no school age kids. We'd already moved through to the other grades and no one had enough money to make their family bigger. Usually, the population would fluctuate around a graduating class. Some kids would take off chasing dreams away from farms and milking cows, others were starting families of their own way too young.
I planned to stay there. My family was there, my girl was there, and everything I knew and wanted was in that little town. On the year of my sixteenth birthday, it all changed.