The early years

The younger years of my life

Lets see... my life is now covered in so many lies presented by other peoples vocals based on no fact at all and buried under the hidden feelings of many an unspoken soul, it feels almost like im hiding behind a curtain thats slowly wrapping itself round me. So here it is for once and for all the truth about everything the truth about Ama may cooper. Im not sure why i decided to do this possibly because when it comes down to it ive always wanted to write an autobiography so i could look back on the crazy s**t i did over the years and laugh at myself in future years.

I was born on the 3rd june 1992, a young girl unclear on where my life would lead or what life really was. and still to this day im constantly lost on the whole concept of life and what it actually is. My mother had a traumatic birth , i was breech born. Perhaps even at that point clinging to the familiarity of the womb,  afraid to step into something i didn't understand and maybe never will. Ironic how looking back at that point i was just as selfish mentally, the anguish child birth really puts on a woman is never understood until you go through it yourself. I haven't as of yet, and maybe i never will im some what scared by the idea to be honest. But either way i was born into the world alone, just like everyone else a simple organism learning and growing alongside family and friends. I suppose when i was small i depended on my mother some what but that bond was soon broken perhaps long before it was meant to, im not sure if there is a specific age that where meant to get the feeling of not wanting to be so doted upon but mine came younger than it should of an im aware of that.  Deep down despite what i say i do love them both but there input my life has not always been that of the doting affection that you would expect. I grew up under the chaotic remains of what was apparently once a pleasant home, a mother who despite her best interests was horrendously emotionally abuse and a father that beat her round the clock even further embedding her need for an emotional release.

I grew up for the first 3 years of my life in Brixton. The area has developed some bad rap over the years but its nothing the papers or rumours make it out to be. I lived in a near enough top floor flat with my mother , i think at some point my farther did live with us to but i cant quite remember if this is the case or if they where simply visits that ive wiped from my memory. I have very few memories of this age,and most of those that i do remember are neither pleasant nor comforting simply things that occurred and left a permant mark in my mind. As a young child of any upbringing what occurs is those first few years tend to shape us for life and turn us into who we are, whats strange though is i have become like neither of my parents and seem to lack anything in common with either of them apart from perhaps the smallest recognizable feature.

I do rember some memories of more pleasnt attire, and i realise now what an odd child i really was and that my behaviour really was and still is quite peculiar. When i was little i had the natural obsession most children do with costumes and dress up, only i was largely attrated to a tiger suit that on many occasions i insited i wanted to wear out. I dont think my mother even did give in to that demand that i walk or more crawl down the street coated in the gentle striped fabric i so desired. but whenever i could i would indeed place myself neatly between the silky matireal adn walk around the house growling at my mother or any other visitor who did indeed make the mistake of walking inside the door way. This along with my habit of crawling inside those giant old ikea bags they used to have and leaping out at peoples ankles was proberly what worried everyone about my mental state to begin with, but nothing has really changed obviously the habits themselves are now differnt but evidently they still resemeble the foolish entertainment i seeked out as child.

Once old enough to attend Nursrey i went to a rather pleasnt one around the corner from my house, known as Triangle nursery. It was hear i made my first friends, and sadly i am hardly inconact with many of them now, one of them still remians but i sense a gentle distance between us now that never seemed to be there in our innocent childhood years. But the tales of this place are perhaps a few of the more happier tales in my life the many hours spent there, where i developed a strong like for the staff that looked after us and made my first enimes. At that age i admit i was a bully a very mean one at that, my first friend Helen otherwise known to many as my cousin H. We grew up together and became practically sisters the only thing that prevented that being the unbioliogal connection but mentally we where one and the same. At Triangle nursery we very much so ruled the roost, as such the place was our play area emphasis on the our. We where mean and possibly let to get away with far to much. I still have distinct memories of locking a young boy in the sandpit and sitting on the lid because he took a block from me that i was indeed playing with. There was room for him to breathe we where not murders but our laughter was a pure display of the satisfaction we got from such an evil act. These cruel displays of power hungry infants countiuned for a very long time. at this point in our young age i was the leader of the two of us but sooner or later my cousin would take over and i would be in the torture seat for a while. The tales of us throwing bricks at children who dared to step on our mat while we where building go on and on. Funnily enough the only striking memory i have of this place is rather humours and involves me falling asleep on one of those little beds you have in play houses and totally missing half of my lesson. Not that at that age anyone really cared if you missed a few lessons here and there due to playing around and just having a good time.It was here that for some strange reason i gained a popularity of which my friends actually did like me despite me being a bully. Friends that i would spend many years with all through primary skl the next stage in the ladder.

Author's Note

Yeh.. just a story