My mother

My mother did the worst things to me throughout my life, she abused me since my childhood, ignored my extraordinary achievements, and disrupted my relations with my friends; I understood the reason two years ago, but I can't write it down because I can't prove it. I created literary masterpieces, survived by miracles in the stock market, gained self-confidence, otherwise I would not be able to reveal these things to the public. Now I'm not afraid of anything, including the CENABITOTEM. For years, my mother argued that my father was a skeptic and a slanderer, and she convinced everyone, including me, but later I woke up and realized the truth of the matter. My mother hated my father, and I scared her because I was so much like my father. I don't know my father's claims, but he's not easily wrong. I don't want to see the faces of my uncles and aunts, I don't greet any of them, the devalued lira is more valuable to me than them. I find my father wrong about one thing: He should have spoken to the dishonorable people who ambushed him in a language they would understand.