This might not have bothered other boys, but being as I was one, and the fear my mother openly displayed of my being one,I tended to not feel very good about going to school.Until my freshman year in High School, I could think of nothing but dying.This is when I started my foray into the Craft.All I wanted to learn were curses to lay on the mouth-breathers all around me(and maybe a few lust-spells to put on the tastier boys in my Gym classes).
I got into debate and speech class, and by my senior year I had gotten somewhat happier. I had made friends with others as odd as me, and began to realize that being 'normal' was about as common as three-balled monkeys.During high-school, I had a few sexual experiences with boys, but nothing to write home about.Now that's a letter my mother would have freaked out on!I think my first big crush was on my sociology teacher, Mr.Hill. Blond,blue-eyed Mr.Hill...ahh,so dreamy!I even wrote a horrible poem about'a youth in love with a god' and put it in his desk.Of course,the gods saw fit that he shared it with the class.Everyone agreed it must have been written by one of the freshman girls in another of his classes, but just the same, I had diarrea for two days after.
So with my graduation in the year 1983, I was ready to get on with living. My best friend Will(very rich) wanted me to go with him and his family to Costa Rica that fall for a month, all expenses paid. But with college starting that same time, my parents bitched until I had to say no. It was at that point that I quit being the good boy and said 'fuck it' to the whole stay in line routine that my parents were so afraid to deviate from.So off to college I went...
