From Conception to Failure

My autobiography.

                                                 “From Conception to Failure”

 

 

An autobiography by ZACHARY LYONS

 

 

 

            I started out as most of us do, except the Christ and the holy figures among us of course, as a

sperm inside my dear papa’s testies. See in my mind my first real challenge was to fight through all the

other thousands of sperm to be that lucky productive liquid to fertilize my mother’s egg. Now that’s a true

accomplishment! In a way you could say I was a success story even at the beginning of my existence.

            Actually before we start this story I’d like to apologize, cause you see I already lied… I’m not really

the success story I claimed to be. In fact, for the most part I’m what most people would call an “under-

achiever.” With that out of the way lets let this tale unfold, this is my life from conception to failure.

 

PART 1 – Destined to be a retard or a child prodigy?

 

            Even as a child I tended to stray away from the bland things in life. I wasn’t the kind of kid to be

amused by things as bland and simple as balls and bats. For me any thing fantasy related was right up my

alley. (i.e. Star Wars, Pokemon, Digimon, the works.) You see while my sports fanatic dad would attempt to

make an athlete out of me I would simply run around pretending to be a number of things and I would

usually avoid the ball because, you know, it represented the bland.

            Family has and most likely will always play a very important role in my life. It is these people who I

both learn from and get teased by. While my mom’s side of the family was always tolerate of me my dad’s

side was usually a different story. For some reason they just couldn’t grasp the idea that a seven year old

would rather fill them in why it might be a bad idea to tempt a wild gazelle than to play catch. Aside from

that they would always try to convince my parents to put me into programs for “special kids” due to the

fact that they were convinced a child like me must have learning disabilities. I wonder if they still thought

that when I had surpassed most of them in knowledge by the age of 11.

            Aunts and uncles weren’t the only people who deemed me undesirable however. In my preschool

days I was marked as “rebellious” and “beyond help” by the obviously satanic cult in the guise of the

Danville Montessori Preschool. According to them any 3 year old who wouldn’t pick up his puzzle pieces

when told, or sit on their designated mat was unworthy of their superior learning style. I was kicked out of

preschool, no joke, oh well I guess I missed out on learning how to conform to standards.

It wasn’t long before I found a new preschool that was more adept to dealing with my unique personality. Instead of kicking me out when I growled at the other children they simply gave me my own room.

            With the unique mindset I was given there are certain setbacks. Take for example an incident that

almost got me re-familytized in second grade. You have to understand that my second grade mind didn’t

quite understand that certain subjects could cause concern among adults. Although, why adults would take

the crazy ramblings of a giddy second grader as truth is beyond me, especially when it concerns what I told

them. I said that due to my father being a police officer he would often make me drive him home drunk.

Which is completely lacking in logic I know. And on top of this I claimed that a hundred bodies were under

my bed and I would have to climb up them at night to go to sleep.  As a result my family was called in for a

meeting with child services. When my mother was questioned about my childish claims she responded to

the teacher, “Want to hear the stories he tells me about you?” Needless to say they backed off.

            So looking back I guess I wasn’t really a retard or a child prodigy. I was just weird. I take pride in

that.

 

PART 2 – This is the part where everybody loses their soul. AKA Middle School

 

            Oh my, looking back at those years makes me want to puke an unsightly amount of blood. Middle

school should be renamed, instead it should be called “Guess what everything you thought was awesome

probably isn’t, so you better change fast or else everybody will hate you.” (and of course you do…) See, if I

had known this general idea earlier in my middle school career maybe it would have been a little more

fruitful. Throughout sixth and seventh grade I was shunned, I didn’t know about these “awesome “ things

like “cool” bands and “tight” lingo, and on top of it all I just couldn’t understand why nobody else thought

my gazelle jokes were awesomeness.

            As embarrassing as it is by eighth grade I myself was a tool. Oh yes I was a “skater punk.” I guess in

the end it turned out okay though due to the fact that I ended up really enjoying skateboarding even after

my middle school phase. Thankfully middle school ended, and high school begun. Here you just kind of

realize you might as well live like you want, because those people you thought were tight in middle school

are losers just the same as you when you’re a freshmen.

 

PART 3 – The Tragedy of Interlochen, badly thought out consumption of illegal drugs and Zombie.

 

            So, back to the success thing. You see it’s not necessarily that I don’t intend to succeed, it’s just

that I tend to screw things up. Point in case, Interlochen Arts Academy. Ever since about 9^th grade I wanted

to be a filmmaker and when I discovered Interlochen I thought I had found my first step. I applied, got

accepted, paid the multi-thousand dollar fee and attended the camp. It was awesomeness! Top-notch

facilities, awesome people, beautiful campus, great professors, and drugs… Two weeks in, when the height

of production sets in, I get caught smoking weed in a cabin with a couple of fellow Loches’. Needless to say,

I was kicked out. Mom and dad, not to happy.

            So I learn my lesson that drugs = bad situations for me right? Wrong. About 2 months later my

better judgment fails me again and I smoke a little too much cigarettes and weed. Doesn’t agree with my

asthma, pulse goes extremely high (180-190’s) and I nearly die. Lesson learned: Maybe smoking, whether it

be cigarettes or illegal substances isn’t the right thing for me due to my health conditions…

            From this many more bad things come, but one thing tops it all off in an oh so tragic way. The day

is my birthday, and also my first day driving to school, the day has actually going really well. I pull into the

drive way and every thing goes to hell when I hit my 6 month old puppy Zombie. He dies… I cry… life sucks.

            The moral behind all of this: I have really, really, really bad luck/karma. REALLY BAD.

 

CONCLUSION

 

            Ah my life, interesting huh? Well I hope you enjoyed it, I have occasionally, with the exception of

part 3 that is… I’ll leave you with this, my current situation. Migraines almost constantly and a bad outlook

on life, and on top of it all I’m a loser. Oh well, it’s bound to get better eventually.

 

THE END

(But not really…)

(You know… cause I’m still alive… yeah…)

 

Reviews

[Shep]

In general, everybody's life sucks including mine, mine from the age five bounced around in 19 foster homes so the grass is not always greener. but you did a great job and brave enough to tell your own story. I told my once here and deleted it was too long and nobody was reading it anyway. nicely done keeping it real.