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I feel like punching a wall because I’m angry at myself for letting this girl go even though it would never work out between us I just needed that hope that we could be together forever because I truly loved this girl but I let her go, I let her go into the world she is afraid of, the world that left those scars on her arms and legs and the world that left her scared and alone, the world I’m so used to living in I hate myself that I would let her go corrupt by this I don’t want to live like this anymore this is why I punch things and why I do drugs not because I think it’s cool I need closure and I find closure in drugs games and punching things this is my life now and this is why I hate myself more and more every day because I let her go into this world that has corrupt me I just don’t want it to corrupt her again I want to save her but I no longer can, a new boy has come along, he is one of the ones which corrupted me and she says she loves him and he says he loves her I just hope he doesn’t corrupt her in the world I let her go into because I would just hate myself more she has hope in her yet unlike me but I just think that he may take that hope away in time and she will forever be corrupt
-Him, Her, Corruption
28th July 2014

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Idk if this happens commonly or if i am just very very unlucky. My father passed away 9 years before my mother. When she passed it was time to clean out the home they lived in for over 30 years of a 60 year marriage. My father took his camera with him all over the world in the military. Still camera and 8mm. Boxes and boxes of slides and reels. I simply saved them and set them aside for later. I got time months later and got one of those 35mm slide to jpg scanners and just ground thru them. When i got them all scanned i got a later chance to prop my feet up and go thru them. Amongst all the widespread scenery and travel and cool vintage moments i stumble across pics of my mother. Many of them simple poses in many places, mostly outdoors, she was actually a modestly attractive classic pinup type. But then i run into the lingerie shots. And then the tasteful n u d e s indoors and outdoors. And then the real shocker. On any scale my mother was the classic church going uppity prudish b**** woth zero tolerance for bawdy or suggestive behavior or language. Hell sometimes i would say something crude just to push her uptight buttons. You would not believe how bent out of shape she got when she found evidence of my first s** dream on the sheets. Or at least what i ever saw from her was that way.

But i see hundreds of shots that are full bore graphic. Nothing artful about them. Spread shots, bendovers, hands between her legs, and then actually having s**. But in none of them is my father the man she is havimg s** with. He was obviously behind the camera. Some of them? A minister i recognize because she used to drag me to church all the time. Neighbors or friends of my parents that i remember. . It just kept piling on. Shots of my mother having lesbian s** with my aunt, my father’s older sister. Shots of my mother with other women i dont recognize, shots of my aunt with some of the same women. Shots of my mother with multiple men. Def did not wake up that or any day expecting or wanting to see pics of my mother getting spitroasted or used by a group of men and pretty much looking like she is having a grand time. When i do manage to force myself to power thru them all, hypocrtically, my parents were both moderately racist, but the handful that did have my father in them? He was having s** with a few different women, all african american women, except for one woman. His f****** sister, the same aunt i saw shots of my mother having s** with.

The s***** part was having to go through all of them because i did not want to risk losing family photos or memories or history that were NOT my parents’ s** escapades. At that point i accepted that the stack of 8mm movies might be similar. And i was right. The huge majority of them were my mother and the various random men my mother was having s** with, but some of the men were not in the still shot stack. No decent family movies at all sadly, the whole lot except 3 of the 8mm were either my mother and who tf knows who the men were, or great, a lesbian movie with my same aunt. The 3 exceptions? A mix of my parents doing foursomes with two diff couples. Both of those couples i knew/ remembered as family friends, i had grown up with their kids. In both cases wife swapping with my parents. And the crown jewel…..obviously sarcastically….my dad with my mother and aunt.

Look don,t get me wrong, i am nowhere near a prude, we all have our little quirks and kinks. I am not judging any of them, it was theie thing to do. I confess i had a few queasy reactions because the stills and movies span a time from before i or my sister were even born, to a time when we were mid 30s, which put my parents and aunt in their 70s. Hell i hope i am still having s** when i am that age.

By the time i was done, i had one focus…..there was not a condom in sight in any of it. Was my father actually my father? Is my sister my full sister or half sister? Do i have half siblings i dont even know somewhere? How glad am i that i have never done the spit in a tube ancestry or 23 and me thing, because i do not want to fall into that vortex of doom?