URA Masterpiece Determining YOUR Destiny looking for god

Life aint fair, you don’t have to tell that to the orphan in Darfur who has seen her whole family wiped out by having no food to eat, or the young man in Zimbabwe who has watched his mother and sister being raped and his father being decapitated just because they wanted the freedom to vote. Or the 12 year old girl in India who is one of 6 sisters, who is no longer wanted so for expediency sake she is anybody's, do with her whatever they like, just give me 3 quid. you can have her. Life aint fair, it just aint.

Mum and Shane are getting married, haven't seen her for over 3 months now, they've got a new family.

I'm getting out next week, wonder where I’ll go and what I’ll do, Helen’s parents want to see me in Hell, my mum doesn't want to see me, and I don’t like me.
Seems like I’ve made a balls up of everything.

Some years ago there was a similar young man in a town called Jerusalem, somewhere in the Middle East, he was born, as they say, on the wrong side of the track, although he hadn’t had much of a start in life. Even what he had, he managed to make a Pigs Ear of. It got him into so much trouble that the authorities thought the best thing they could do with this ‘piece of garbage’ was to pin him to a cross, make him suffer (some more) till eventually the blood would drain from his body and the breath would cease in his lungs and he would no longer be a stench in the nostrils of life.

Interesting thing, just as he was about to pass out of this world his luck changed. In that last hour of his life he found himself in the company of someone like he had never met before, someone very different. Oh, he looked like any other man, ordinary, nothing special in his appearance, in fact if it wasn’t for his eyes, he would not have noticed him to be any different. But he looked at the young man as the blood poured out of both their hands and feet and his eyes seemed to look into his soul, his gaze was so penetrating, so deliberate, that it seemed to ease his pain. He’d had people look at him before, but they had caused him pain, with their stares of contempt and distain. This guy was different, just for a moment he thought he recognised something in that gaze, and as he reflected he remembered he had seen such a look in his own mother's eyes when she used to sing him to sleep when he was a frightened child.
It was that same look, but far more intense, far more knowing, it seemed to suck out all the pain, not just the pain of the present, but all the years of pain, all those years of being insignificant, a stain on the stage of this world. In his dying moments he felt as though he was at last worth something in the eyes of this stranger. It was a look of love; to be loved was a strange uncomfortable feeling, one that was alien to his existence, one that was in sharp contrast with his view of the world, but as his sadness turned to joy, his pain to pleasure, ‘he had at last found his purpose’. He was to die side by side with his only true friend. 
And the last words he heard before he passed out of this life, were from the voice of his new found friend, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

It’s never too late, sometimes when the music stops, life begins to start.

Life Just Sucks?

For you life just sucks, born on the wrong side of the tracks; father, if you ever had one, nowhere to be seen, brought up by your mum, struggling to find the ends, never mind making them meet. Hey never mind, a little booze, a few fags and the odd high makes it all go away on Friday night, but then it's Saturday morning, or is it afternoon, and who's that guy in bed next to mum?

Did God deal me the joker, is the whole pack stacked against me, my absent dad, my teacher, my probation officer, my neighbourhood? Is society bent towards the rich? The politicians tell us it's not, but I look at mum on her 29th birthday, another fellow by her side, in her bed. Are you sure its 29, mum? As life takes its toll and her face betrays the pain and heartache of those 29 years.

Sixteen now, nearly old enough to drive, ah sh** why wait, let's get busy, a shot or two of vodka nicked from the local shop. Funny it didn’t seen right, I remember the shop lady used to give me some sweets or a bar of chocolate when I came shopping with mum, so what? The old bag’s probably got piles of money stacked away. I did overhear mum saying that she was old enough to retire but she still needed to work the shop to pay for her disabled daughter's medical treatment. Still that’s not my problem.

Pop up to that nice estate on the hill, grab myself a ride in some rich bitch's BM.

Left the keys in the car, they deserve to have it stolen. So this is how the other half live, hood down, wind in my hair, another swig of the old jungle juice, foot down on the accelerator and bingo, thump, was that a little girl stuck to the bonnet? Hard to tell, girl or boy.

Prison, prison, prison I always thought deep down that this would be my destiny, time to read, time to think, time to be frightened.
Mum visits once a month, she says she has a new boyfriend and he wants them to move out of the area, it's a steady relationship and they’ve been together now for over 7 weeks.
She says that she loves me, but it’s too painful to stay in the village since the little girl ‘incident’. She promises to visit as often as she can but Craig says that she shouldn’t cling to me.

Life aint fair, how do you climb a mountain in bare feet, with your hands tied behind your back? Did I tell you that I can read a little now? Mr Fellows, my English teacher would be proud of me, proud of me seems like an oxymoron.

Twenty Two now, just 2 more years to go, think how old would Helen have been, ten or eleven, can't think of that now, much too painful, although nobody must know, they don't suffer weak people in prison, I learned quickly that they soon become prey for the ‘strong’.