Jojo over heaven

ichbinmehnlich
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24But all that had nothing to do with it. And what I said about how shewould have minimized the damage if only she'd stayed quiet, I think that maynot have been so.So he began to hit me without any significant reason.He was always irritated.He was constantly in a bad mood.He was so violent that he was unable not to take his anger out onsomething.In order to create strong zombies, I found many wicked people--- LikeJack the Ripper, for example. But even compared to that famous villain, my fatherwas by no means inferior.He was a hopeless thug.He was a stingy low-life, but when I think of just how strong a zombie hewould have become had I turned him into a zombie, I think how that man trulywas the father of me, Dio.Though just thinking that is discomforting.Anyhow, that man was a foolish man who had an inferiority complexeven towards his wife and children---- It would not have been strange if he'd losthis life after living it in nonstop violence.What I did to escape my father's violence was, at the time, work. Iworked, I earned money, and I used that money to give my father liquor.When he was drunk, his violence was all the more impossible to restrain,but if you ignored that and let him keep drinking, then he would eventually drinkhimself unconscious.And of course, my father could not commit violence towards me if hewas asleep.Nonetheless, I was a child.Even though I call it work, it wasn't legitimate work at all, of course---but in that savage town, it had its own savage system. Even if they weren'tlegitimate, there were many jobs to do.

25They would take kickbacks like it were natural to do, so the money achild could earn never amounted to much. But gambling went on all over thetown, so it was easy to increase that into enough to buy liquor.I made use of my mother's education here.The education she gave me when I was very young, I first made use of itin gambling...... I'm sure that would have been very much against what she'dhave wanted. When I think of that, it's very ironic. Because it was then that I firstfelt grateful to her.I thought how it was thanks to her that I was able to live to today.It was the first time I was appreciative to her.He himself couldn't earn much money, so when his young son boughthim liquor, my father expectably got in a bad mood and hit me. But to thatdrunkard man, liquor took priority over anything, apparently. And he stoppedhitting me little by little.It seems even that man was capable enough to calculate that if he hit meso bad that I couldn't move, he wouldn't get booze anymore.And so I thought, "I knew it. My mother was wrong."That's what I thought in my childish mind.While I was thankful for the knowledge and cultivation she'd given me, Ifelt that my mother was still mistaken and foolish.Even though I was very young, I fell that decision was very unlike me. Orperhaps back then, no matter how much I scorned her as being "hopelesslyfoolish her humane feelings of being unable to discard my father, I shared aswell...... Even though I don't want to admit it, if it's necessary to get to heaven, Imust admit to that as well."I was right, my mother was wrong."If Father only quit drinking he'd be a nice person?"That's not true at all, is it?!"Far from it. It's more like the more he drinks, the kinder he gets, doesn'the----?"

24

But all that had nothing to do with it. And what I said about how she

would have minimized the damage if only she'd stayed quiet, I think that may

not have been so.

So he began to hit me without any significant reason.

He was always irritated.

He was constantly in a bad mood.

He was so violent that he was unable not to take his anger out on

something.

In order to create strong zombies, I found many wicked people--- Like

Jack the Ripper, for example. But even compared to that famous villain, my father

was by no means inferior.

He was a hopeless thug.

He was a stingy low-life, but when I think of just how strong a zombie he

would have become had I turned him into a zombie, I think how that man truly

was the father of me, Dio.

Though just thinking that is discomforting.

Anyhow, that man was a foolish man who had an inferiority complex

even towards his wife and children---- It would not have been strange if he'd lost

his life after living it in nonstop violence.

What I did to escape my father's violence was, at the time, work. I

worked, I earned money, and I used that money to give my father liquor.

When he was drunk, his violence was all the more impossible to restrain,

but if you ignored that and let him keep drinking, then he would eventually drink

himself unconscious.

And of course, my father could not commit violence towards me if he

was asleep.

Nonetheless, I was a child.

Even though I call it work, it wasn't legitimate work at all, of course---

but in that savage town, it had its own savage system. Even if they weren't

legitimate, there were many jobs to do.

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