| i hate to walk behind other peoples' ambitions |
[Sep. 2nd, 2008|09:32 pm] |
on march 16, 1990 taylor was born in madison, mississippi. her parents were wealthy, her grandparents were wealthy and her great-grandparents were wealthy; her family was a chain of wealth and surprisingly, taylor wanted nothing to do with it. however, in the beginning of her life, she didn't know the meaning of wealth, judgement or materialistic poison. it wasn't until she entered high school that she changed; she underwent metamorphosis from daddy's little princess to teen runaway.
at the age of 18, taylor's father, mark black, who was born and raised in south carolina, moved to nashville with the predetermined goal that he was going to become a lawyer. he made his parents oh-so-proud by becoming a vandy boy. at vanderbilt he met and fell in love with lynda, an art history major. apparently art & history follow law because lynda followed mark. she followed him all the way to connecticut where he attended law school at yale university. lynda became a house-wife before she even was one; she cleaned their northern apartment, cooked elaborate dinners and waited on mark. during mark's study of law, he proposed to lynda and within six or so months, they wed in south carolina.
with a wife and a law degree, mark made the decision to relocate elsewhere. he was asked to join 3 different firms; one of the firms was located in worcester, ma, one was located in madison, ms, and one was located in coral springs, fl. he decided to remain true to his southern roots and picked madison, ms. of course, he wasn't able to submerge his family into a disaster; he researched madison and found out that it was one of the 10 best US cities to raise a family. who knows where those statistics came from but apparently they do exist. the blacks bought a lovely two-story home in a gated community. art history buff lynda decorated her home with expensive, tasteful modern art. what was next? a baby girl.
march 16th couldn't have come sooner. mark and lynda anticipated the arrival of their baby girl. keep in mind, mark and lynda are both extremely spoiled human beings and so they aren't used to waiting for anything... nine months of waiting must have almost killed them. finally, lynda gave birth to a perfectly healthy girl whom they named taylor lynn black. taylor grew up just as any child grows up. in fact, she thought that her life was like any other child's life. she thought it was normal to get a bike and a dollhouse and a dancing barbie and glass dolls and the entire set of pollypockets and several disney movies and a stocking full of goodies and designer purses for christmas. she thought it was normal to have a pair of socks to match each of your outfits. and she thought it was normal to attend private school, which... their is nothing abnormal about attending private school but she thought that there was no other option. her antebellum home, full of modern artwork and high ceiling kept her blinded to the world of poverty, war and crime; she was a stranger to reality and she was poisoned by wealth. as she grew, she put away her barbies, she took down her baby decorations and she saw a glimpse of the outside world. she stopped believing in santa and wanted to leave the zero percent crime radius known as madison.
sickened by her parents' obsession with money, disgusted by her parents' need to hire a maid, a yardman and a personal assistant, taylor started to rebel when she was 14; she locked her door and refused to open it, she stopped doing her homework and she even snuck out of the house. she started to hang with the "wrong crowd." she liked them because they were "like her;" they hated their parents, they were rich but pretended like they weren't and they stole their mom's cigarettes. gradually but surely, stealing mom's cigarettes wasn't good enough and taylor befriended older guys who willingly bought cigarettes for her. in fact, this is how she found her first boyfriend. his name was greg fountain and he was 18. he played in a band, he had a tattoo and he went to a public school. his parents didn't graduate from college, he didn't have nice artwork in his house and he didn't live in madison; he was everything taylor wanted for her own life. over the next two years, she became obsessed with him - she gave him her body, she gave him whatever money her parents would give to her, she smoked pot with him, she sucked him off whenever he asked, she stayed out late with him, she stayed out all night with him, she dropped out of school to runaway with him. at seventeen she was one year shy of graduating highschool but she didn't care.
he didn't have a car, so they used her 2006 lexus ls400 (of course this car made her want to vomit but it's what she was given) to escape. while cruising 70 mph, she threw her cellphone into the racing wind with the hope that it would shatter into a million unfixable pieces. they drove north; greg wanted to make it big in the city and taylor was enchanted with the idea of living in the city and making a new identity for herself. they drove and drove and drove. they stopped for food & gas occasionally but mostly they stopped to fuck and to smoke. she pretended to not care about her parents. but she actually did because the entire ride she felt bad for running away. she thought about calling them but greg always talked her out of it. he trained her to hate them more than she ever had. it was almost like he wanted to erase them from her memories.
after days and days of driving, the reached the city that never sleeps. greg asked for one more blow job before he told taylor the game plan; he needed to break up with her because he couldn't make it big with a girlfriend attached to his hip. taylor was devastated. what the fuck. was this a joke? it wasn't a joke but greg vowed to live with taylor until she found an apartment or until he found one. greg and taylor checked into a manhattan hotel. taylor cried and begged for greg to take her back. he continued to have sex with her, making her think that perhaps there was a chance in their "romance" rekindling but there wasn't. plain and simple, he was horny and she was willing.
one night while looking for a job in the newspaper she heard laughter outside from the hallway. seconds later, the door pushed open and it was greg with a blonde girl. the blonde girl was tall, skinny and not very pretty. she and greg shared sloppy kisses before he pushed her down onto the bed. it was as if taylor wasn't even sitting on the floor against the window. was she invisible? it wasn't until greg took the blonde's shirt off that he noticed taylor sitting there. dumbfounded, he stuttered around and the blonde laughed. taylor felt sick and at once she grabbed her purse, grabbed her sack of weed and ran out of the room screaming. she ran down the hallway and screamed all the way to the elevators. in the elevator she started to hysterically cry. she cried because of what she just saw, she cried because she dropped out of highschool, she cried because she abandoned her parents, she cried because the US bombed random places, she cried because she was almost out of pot, she cried because she was alone, and she cried because she had nothing to not cry about. |
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