In answer to my Belief in Fairytales

Some of us didn't sleep much, especially when I was a kid. My first holiday memory was helping my Grandfather put the presents under the Christmas tree, so naturally I knew there was no Santa Clause. That and he asked me if I believed in Santa. I said no, he said good, then I don't have to pretend with you. I sometimes wish I had a normal upbringing, my brother Drummond and cousin Paul believed in Santa then and they were 5 and 4 years older than me consecutively. So that would have made them 9 and eight. I also never trusted many people and refused to take pictures with the Santa at Famous Barr even before my Grandfather ever asked me. I know, it sucks, but I was never a normal average kid. Most kids first words were mama or dada, baba, this. When I started to talk my first words were Bitch and fuck you. Can ask my Mother to verify if you wish.
In all honesty there was one time my mother almost convinced me there was a Santa. I had really wanted the huge version of Omega Supreme. My Mom said that it was to expensive. She went on a business trip after my birthday with her boyfriend to Chicago. That Christmas morning, after I had actually slept the night before, I awoke to find a huge box from Santa under the tree. It was Omega Supreme. I knew my Mother wouldn't have bought it, and her boyfriend is, was, and always will be a worthless shit, so it had to be Santa. Later when everyone else had woke up because I was running through the house saying Santa had found a way down our skinny ass chimney(that is a quote,) my Mom was so proud that I finally believed in Santa. I was on my best behavior ever for all of six hours. The reason was her boyfriend came over, started drinking beer, and told everybody about their trip to Chicago, how on the way back after going to 18 different toy stores to find the deluxe model of Omega Supreme, they got stuck ing a snow ditch for about 2 1/2 hour before help came. I pushed the button on the rocket claw and shot him in the head. My Mom was so mad at him because she had tried for all of my life to convince me there was a Santa (the only holiday creature I couldn't disprove with facts, they supported his existence when I looked him up,) she told me that she was sorry that she tried to fool me. She confessed that the only way to make sure I didn't find it, and nobody would tell me about it was to keep it a secret and hide it at Rap's house because I refused to enter it. I told her I forgave her but that she had to stop trying to convince me that the Santa I researched was still alive and magically delivering presents throughout the world in one 9 hour time span. So for about six hours one day when I was eight, I believed in Santa, that was all. Sorry man, I was brought up in a family with a college English professor, and accountant, a realist Grandfather who started teaching me about life and common sense probably before I could walk, and a Grandmother who never lied to me and gave me what I wanted. If it was something that they didn't want to tell me, they said simply that, they didn't want to tell me right now, all were forbidden from saying things like children should be seen and not heard, and you ask to many questions. If it was said to me I retaliated by causing as much physical pain in the saying as I could until they left my presence. Just ask Rap(Alcee Alfred,) my Mom's boyfriend, he will tell you what it feels like to be double jump kicked in the balls and have knives thrown at you be a four year old until only his Grandmother could restrain him and calm him down. That was my childhood, born with too much common sense and no tolerance for disrespect or ignorance from anyone.
I mean really people, how fucked up is that. A kid not being able to be lost into a simple thing as a childhood. I would love to be able to be able to disappear into my imagination. To live a life ion total oblivion to the shit that happens in this world. Such was not and is not to be my lot in life. I am to fricking rooted into reality to be able to escape. I am an Expediter, the person who waits for an assignment from some source, and then gets the job done in all efficiency and expediency. A friend of mine has recently described me as a genius and bored, I can't really deny him that truth. I don't like it, but truth is truth. I hate having to come up with ideas. I dislike with a passion being asked to do something with the limits people want to place on me after they ask. That is like having a guard dog on a leash in front of the house when there is a burglar inside. I get things done! So let me do that in peace. If you want something done, call Deadpool, it will be done fast, and correctly, just don't ask how. That is not as hard as it sounds, I just don't like being evil to my friends when they need a favor, then want to control how I am supposed to handle it.