I’m not normal. I’m far from it. I use tattoos and piercings not as a fashion statement but as a release. My mind never turns off. My body never sleeps. I think a lot. I think about a lot of bad things. Things that happened, things that will happen, and things I can’t control. Most of the time I find myself rather depressed. Not for any reason at all. I guess that makes me an artist? My brother is dead. Dead. I still haven’t been able to make sense of that. My birth family is not present. A pain I chose not to get rid of. I have a lot of fear. Fear of more loss and more difficulties. I am pretty weak. But I fear myself most. My mind my feelings. All in all I’m a freak. I’m a fucking freak. An emotionally unstable, mentally tweaked, over analytical, slightly depressive freak.

I’m mason. I’m no more than a cancer. And I will poison your innocence.

-love entirely,
Mason.

Born April 24 1992, i entered hell. Born addicted to anything you can possibly imagine I was forced out of the family by the age of three. Later in a foster home, then Adopted at 5, life has been a great deal of difficulties. I occasionally saw my birth family throughout the years. Iliana is 23, Xavier is 21, Jon was 20, I am 20, and angie is 15. Given the countless sleepless nights and bouts of depression, I had some nice days. But for the most part days of issues. The past two years have been quite fitting to the pattern. Summer of 2010 I moved out. Into a drug invested world for about 6 months. The exact thing I was taken away for. That may have subsided, but the issues continued. Last summer my grandmother died, 14 grand was stolen, and my brother Jon was murdered. With the same drug I so naively appreciated. Then I ran away to Philadelphia. The city of brotherly love. And to me the city of broken dreams. The city is in shit condition. The people are shit. And my mind has been shit. So next time you speak to me, text, call, whatever. Think about where I have been. And just how well I I might hide it. And learn at least. Learn that you are seeing something nothing like me. But a simple act. Because I know you couldn’t handle what’s really in my head and heart.

so that’s it. I’m fucked up. Accept it or move on.
This is a new chapter.
And to those who see it. Who can relate,
See you in Vegas freaks.

Sometimes I feel so useless. So insignificant that no matter what I do nothing can change the fact that I have no importance. I grieve a lot. And I worry more. My brother is dead. My grandmother is dead. My family is gone. And I’ve just about dwindled my friends down to very few single digits. But I have not done a single thing to change that. Sometimes I wonder if I am being too selfish. But I can’t be. How is it possible to be selfish when I stand here today still feeling so selfless. I just want everyone to be happy. And only now am I starting to finally understand that this may mean nothing for me. I do believe in god. I just say I don’t to stop myself from finding one more excuse as to why things happen. Things happen in my life because they are supposed to. I know that now. I wish when every other thing that happened in my life someone could have told me. I wish I always knew that things happen when they are supposed to. And I can do nothing. and I can change nothing. I may seem careless at times. And sometimes I am. But other times I just know that things will happen weather I want them to or not. I have my friends and my love. And those people mean the world to me. I love all of them. Enough to let go. Enough to let them have everything they can get out of life. Enough to know that that may not be me. And enough to accept that. Cheers to 2012.

Glen Freight

John Toriello