B Chronicles

It seems like all my life I’m going to be too young for something, and once I’m old enough for that thing I’ll be too young for something else. I swear I could be 100 years old and die, once I’m dead I bet someone will say “he was too young to die.” I’m sure at some point in their life everyone. It gets irritating as hell considering when it comes to most stuff I have more experience than people older than me. But people fail to realize (at the risk of sounding kind of stupid) I’m an old soul. I remember when I was 8 I was in a school choir in Barbados because I’m so awesome and talented. We had to raise money for a trip to Cuba, I had a solo was ready and excited as hell. I told my mom, we had the money but I was just too young to go to Cuba with people my family and I know won’t hurt murder and or rape me. But here is the kicker, my brother went to St. Lucia a year before my trip to Cuba. So while all of my friends were in Cuba singing for the poor and being waited on hand and foot by the hotel staff I was at school perfecting my times tables and eating food I don’t think I would even feed my dog. Now was that fair? Of course not, but in the eyes of my mother, I’m just way too young to leave the country. And I know what most people that read this are going to say, “you were too young, you were just a baby.” But take into consideration that my mom is the kind of parent that would tell me to go outside and play and LOCK THE DOOR behind me. So that means unsupervised for hours on end I would be outside with children my age whose parents do the same thing. Glorious adventures every day, and I lived a mile away from the beach so that was always an option for us. But the thing is my friends and I had something most people lack, common sense and I’m pretty sure my mother knows that. But you know there is always a way around certain age restrictions, not that I condone certain things but there is. I have two tattoos and I intend to get some more. I’m 16 and the legal age to get a tattoo is 18, my mother would never in a million years come with me to get a tattoo. So how did I get tatted when I was 15? My cousin is 19 and we do like alike in many ways, and I do look mature for my age. I took his id and went to a tattoo parlor. At the time I was working at the district attorney’s office making about 208 a week. I learned all of his information and went to the parlor if they didn’t believe me I always had the information on the card to back it up if they tested me. Now I have this sick tattoo on my right arm that truthfully I love and don’t regret one bit. Truthfully I do understand why most age restrictions exist, most kids are too stupid to do something serious that they won’t later regret and certain rules are there to prevent ignorant people from ruining their lives. I’m not stupid, I do have a good head on my shoulders. But I’m not going to lie I’m kind of rebellious, but my rebellious ways have brought some good things my way. I’m not the kind of guy that does every type of drug known to man and drinks every day. I’m a very relaxed yet eccentric person. I love weird stuff and I’m very curious keep reading if your that interested in Brian the Intern.