LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW....

i could remember...my father coming home from somwhere...drunk and puking outside before coming in....when i was 8...i did believe in santa claus...but when santa and his sleigh didnt go across the moon...i said there is no such thing as santa...and then i caught them putting the gifts around the tree and such...man there was alot of presents under that tree...with the stepmother...what...was she buying us with affection for beating us thru the year...thats a thought to think about.... but i always looked out my window alot ..i had my own room....was that my escape for me....maybe...as i think about it now....maybe it was freedom...for me...now i dont look out my window...cuz i really dont give a fuck to look...or even answer my door....after 8pm...when i come home...i leave that behind...wow..............