Troubles and struggles

I have been having difficulty in getting some simple things done. A lot of what I meant was either disregarded or simply misunderstood and either way it all equaled the same result. I need my license back. Yet each turn I took on my way to getting it reinstated pulled me further away from that goal. All of this happened inside of a 50,000 square foot area inside of a 7 square mile range of travel. The reason I hadn't paid the fines to get my license back was money was stolen from me, I was cheated out of money owed, twice banking issues messed with my account, a few times promises made to me were broken. The RMV is half a block from the bank. One person who said they would help works half a block away from that in the other direction.  I have trouble making money without my license. Everyone misunderstanding it. I started trying to sell some of my collectibles. I've been working in photography with no pay. I've put some of my paintings up for sale, I have my drawings for sale and I can be commissioned. It has been so frustrating I have even watched my sideburns gather white hair in this time warp. Essentially I am the main character that Edward Bellamy spook of in his novel Looking Backward. A utopian novel where the man gets to the future after he falls asleep behind a wall. I too became trapped behind this metaphorical wall. It was literal though. People mentally created a wall. Sometimes misunderstanding continued the wall. For all intents and purposes I was kept out of the world. Everytime I began to explain these censors randomly cut the explanation off for whatever reason they felt like which created a time drain that sucked life energy out of me. I've have sustained some injuries in my life and added all together they had an effect finally. I went to the doctor for help with these problems but I didn't get very far. See, something truly tragic happened. It was pretty much a normal occurrence in my life. I've watched this proverbial "train crash" happen many times. I see where it's headed and I watch this looming doom hover above everything and if all my efforts don't add up to a tragic failure then I don't suffer the horrifying effects and carry the traumas of those with me. I watched this "train" screaming down the track to a collision point. My mother made me so angry and my heart hurt so bad when she yelled at me because this other person just wouldn't respect or listen to what she said even though she was right. She wouldn't see it that way. She only said you're my son, you should listen to me. She couldn't recognize it is because I listen to her, to other people and I know the difference between right and wrong that I do as I do.  So I have always been the lightening rod. I was eight. It was June or July. The thing that sickens me about it all is how tragically stupid it is. They simply constantly apply an opposite. If I say, I am eight they went unh uhh you're seven. It was a weird control tactic. A power struggle. I knew I was eight, I knew when my birthday was they had just simply lost their mind. I had no idea if it would return. I couldn't explain again that I knew he was going to shoot someone. He had explained it to me a million times. I kept watch on him. When they argued with me about it he said ahh haa see you aren't God. I wasn't sure. It was because I didn't have their full support so instead of an army of adults on my side they were against me. Which gave him the advantage and tragedy struck. My sister usually disregards a personal space, right to privacy and then also pulls in the other direction to extreme. She also used to sneak up on me when I was playing. Especially alone even no one else had wanted to play and she was always overly suspicious. I was in the barn climbing off the tractor when she pulled a maneuver I become used to. I prepared for. I spun around quickly because she can be sneaky and did care about personal injury. She had even stated see your mom can't protect you from me. She called out from out of sight and I turned around to look and backed in to a pitchfork. I hobbled to the house. There was yelling, I tried to act uninjured. He said he was going to start his assault. My efforts were thwarted and he shot my cousin. I stopped it the first day. But I wasn't there in time the second day. My sister grabbed me once and forced me to ride bikes when I wasn't comfortable. She said I had to or she would have my dad and mom and blah blah blah and she had the upper hand. I was younger and they disrespected and ignored my voice. I told I was eight and she called out after much argument that I was seven. I was forced to sit on the handle bars and even though I protested my protest was denied and we had a bike accident. High speed down a gravel rocky driveway until collusion point with the the 180 degree blacktop. It was high nineties that day that summer. My sister only said as I laid cut and bleeding that I shouldn't have been fooling around. Even though she had forced the entire situation.  My voice has been disregarded much of my life. So I sometimes end up forced to witness these tragedies. Without my license I road a pedal bike into town around 10 o'clock for some freedom in the summer night air. It was a surreal dream atmosphere. It was raining lightly. I went to the gas station and got a snack and soda. To men were arguing in the street. They were throwing his shoes back and forth. One guy asked if I was going to go watch them, he was headed in that direction. I said no. I went and sat on the bike and ate and drank the soda in the rain. I watched a slow very comical race happen in the street that I can only compare to Mario Cart. It was quite funny. Four electric scooters raced by. The ones that are like motorcycles. They were all even. You could hear them coming and they moved slow enough while speeding that you could get a good long look even as they were passing by. They came by a second time after 12 or 14 minutes or so. This time there were two in front and two a little further behind. That gave me a light chuckle. Just like Mario cart. The third time they came by I was convince that it was exactly like Mario Cart or rather Super Mario cart, which I believe is the proper name. On the third pass three scooters were almost even with each other and then a good minute or so later, the fourth one, very far behind came buzzing through. I road home in a heavier rainfall sometime after that.