My mother used to baby me. I was her first, and only, son. I guess she thought that if she didn't do it right then she was cursed for all eternity. I personally think she did a great job. It's not her fault I was blessed with my fathers crazy mind. My mother was perfect. She was kind hearted, warm, sweeter than anyone I've ever met. She loves me unconditionally which is the one thing I am grateful for. If anything she loves me more when I'm at my worst. Which seems like all the time. This has given me the ability to love. Love until it hurts. Don't let go until they truly want you too. Hold on until the last moment possible.

My father is a good man. He's always tried to do good by his family and has always kept his heart open for love. The unfortunate thing is that he was cursed with crippling depression that has left his heart broken, shattered. A million pieces going every which way and he doesn't know which is the right one. He wants to love me as much as he loved mother. This problem, in a sense, has given me the ability to accept the things I cannot change. I cannot mend my fathers broken heart and broken mind. I can only accept it and love it as it is. One day he'll be free of this world and when that day comes he'll be at peace. Whole again.

My sister, Celia. My god, she's perfect in every sense of the word. She's courageous and kind. Much like our mother. She's tall, beautiful, and all smiles. She's easily the second nicest person I know. She has love just like my mother but I don't think she realizes it quite fully. I feel as if I've abandoned her the most. I was honestly the only one she had back before everything went to hell. I just don't understand why I couldn't see that at eighteen years old. Our relationship is rocky, I would think. I was the one person she could turn to and I simply ignored it all. I still ignore it all and she continues to love me from afar. I think if there is one person in this world left that loves me, Celia is that person. I wish I could admit to her how sorry I am. Sorry just isn't in my dictionary. I don't know how to say it without feeling like a joke. Celia is going to becoming so much more than I am. She'll take after our mother more and more. She'll spread her wings and she'll get away from it all. I wish I could tell her.....anything at all.

Samantha. She's seventeen years old and has her whole life ahead of her. She wants to do wild things like me, she says. Move across state lines. Visit family in California! Be strong, be wild, be free on the open road. She tried it once a few months ago. With a man that could rival my age plus 3 years. My father cried to me on the phone. Tells me that 'Samantha is going down the wrong path. Preston, you need to talk to her.' What my father doesn't know is that she's just trying to be like me. What my father also doesn't know can't hurt him anymore than he already hurts. I want more for her. I want her to take after Bec.

My twin sisters Natalie and Sierra. They're 7 years old and from what I hear they're nothing like I was growing up. My father says they're crazy! They're rebellious and they're going to cause so much trouble. They're like I was in my teenager years, my father says one day on the phone. I can hear the disappointment in his voice as much as I heard it the first time my mother caught me smoking. I was 17 years old at the time. Natalie and Sierra will probably never know me like my other sister. They'll probably learn all about me from my father and Samantha. They'll hear about how perfect I am and how I went to college in California because I'm going to be a great, great man.

I'm neither kindhearted nor broken. I think I'm stuck in this sick transition period where I'm neither but both. I may very well end up like my father. Crippled by a mental illness. I know I won't let it take me alive. I think of the great upbringing I had and remind myself that life isn't always a pocket full of fucking sunshine.

I grew up in a small town just outside Pikesville, Kentucky. My mother knew I was bound to break the state line as soon as I could. We lived in a nice home. 3 bedrooms, one bathroom, a family room and a huge kitchen. We had dogs, oh we did. The one I remember most was a Beagle mutt my dad picked up at the flea market. Buster was a good little guy. He joined our other dog, Bud. Bud was also a beagle so the two hit it off without a hitch. I used to walk those two whenever I could. Buster entered my life at a delicate age...or so my mother would say. I was probably seven or eight and I really, really wanted a dog of my own. As soon as I got my wish I realized I was horrible at taking care of things. I'm talking plants, goldfish, and even Bud and Buster. I suppose that whole situation shaped me into the person I am today. I know that I'm great at being on my own. I can feed myself, drink water, shower every day. I can take out the trash on Tuesday evenings because God knows I won't make it out Wednesday morning. I don't make my bed because I like the way it feels when I wake up. Every night when I lie down I feel that same feeling. I'm not good with change. I may be moving at light speed personality wise but inside I want to slow down. I think all these things have taught me that I am better off alone. I separate myself from my loved ones because I can love them better when I'm away. I tend to take advantage of things when I don't even realize it. This all spares them from whatever heartbreak will come from it all. I'm not morbid, I believe in a God. I think that one day, when I pass away, I will be happy. It may or not be Heaven. Who am I to judge? Knowing my luck, and my past mistakes, I should be happy with eternal darkness. When I die I'll be simply that.

I went to college in California. When I was in my late teens I thought it was the right decision. I was a small town boy just dreaming of big things. I was accepted into University of California and it shocks me to this day. I was an average student in High School. An occasional A would show up on my report cards and when it did my mother would cry. It's the little things I remember that make me joyful and grateful. I attended college for a year and a half before dropping out to follow my dreams in Skateboarding. I suppose I wasn't cut out for the academic lifestyle. Once again, I think the whole "Better off alone" and "Not being good with change" notions come in affect. I made some good friends and even took up some hobbies. I tried writing and I failed. I am horrible with grammar and sentence structure (as you can tell.) I also tried Poetry (the same rules apply.) I tried basketball, football, and soccer. I even tried swimming but I couldn't even learn how to do that. I soon realized that no matter how far you go, you never really lose the way you were raised. Small town, big dreams. Those big dreams will lead you straight back to that god forsaken small town, I'll tell ya. I'm okay with that.

After California and College I traveled by motorcycle and skated. I took the scholarship money and school loans and took the road. I visited state after state and settled down in each and every one. I've lived in Las Vegas, Nevada; Roswell, New Mexico; Seattle, Washington; Nashville, Tennessee; Columbus, Ohio; Key West, Florida; and Dallas, Texas. It was in those places I met friends and changed. I've been many places but those were the places that stood out. Living month to month in apartments, going out and finding odd jobs. I've worked many places too. I can sell fishing poles, clothing, tacos, and Cars. I've seen the inside of many fast food establishments and chain stores. I can say I've done a lot but when do you say you've done it all? I can't even tell you how I ended up where I am now. I guess that's a story for a different day. Until then I'll leave you with this. This place left an impact on my life. It could have been the coffee I drank the morning I arrived or the person that sold it to me. It could have been an advertisement in a store window or a lady walking her dog. Some thing little made me stop and something big, in my heart and mind, has made me stay.

I'm twenty seven years old. I'm not getting any younger. One day I have to wake up and accept that things are not going to change. My life is only just beginning but it also isn't going to go much further. I swore to myself I'd let myself go at twenty seven. I could've joined the 27 Club and be with all the other bad asses in heaven. I could have lived up to a name but without achievements. If I really had to pick one thing to change it would be me going back to seventeen. I'd appreciate the days I had when I HAD them. I'd take each one and stretch it out as long as possible. I'd go to my doctors appointments and make my mother proud. I'd hold my mothers hand and be her son. I'd tell my father that it's okay to be broken. It only gives you an opportunity to sprout and grow. I'd tell him I love him and that I'm sorry I left. I'd be okay with grieving like any other child. But this story isn't all about grievances. It's about finding yourself and the bumps along the way. What's worth it and what's not. I'll find the answer one day. Until then I'll tell you a secret. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to see the point in living and I don't know what that means.

✖Born and Raised in Louisville, Kentucky. Always felt like he was meant for bigger and better things. Bigger city, college degree, name in the city lights. Soon realized that he was really just a country boy.


✖ at eleven, preston picked up his first guitar. his father was the guitar player of the family. preston always enjoyed listening to him play and one day he just decided to pick the guitar up and strum out what he had previously heard. after quite a few lessons with his father, he soon was catching up to him. his favorites to play included many songs by bob dylan and johnny cash.


✖at thirteen, preston snuck out from under his parents noses. he had bonded with some local kids one day and they had invited him to go swimming at a neighborhood home. preston was willing to do anything at this point in his life so he took the jump. they boys spent a good 3 hours joking around and swimming in the underground pool until one of the boys brought out his skateboard. they took turns doing tricks and eventually it came down to preston's turn. being a smartass, preston told the boys that he could jump off the diving board with the skateboard and land in the water perfectly. boy was he wrong! after dragging the longboard up the ladder and almost chickening out multiple times, preston rode the board straight off the diving board. of course, we can all guess how this ended! a broken leg, wrist, elbow, and toe later- preston was officially grounded until 18 years of age.


✖took up skateboarding and an arrogant attitude at a very young age. his skateboarding took him many places in his teenage years but it ultimately became a hobby after he went to college. although he did not complete his education and chose to skateboard again, preston never really got back into competitive skating. he still has the occasional urge to call up his sponsors and jump back into it but he's settled down for the moment. his arrogant attitude still exists very much in person but on paper (and online) he seems to be "worldly" and "misunderstood." in all actuality, preston is very unhappy on which his life has taken him .


✖ he has held odd jobs all over the united states after dropping out of college at 20 years old to continue his skateboarding career.
bus boy at the hard rock cafe in cleveland, ohio. 4 months.
stock boy at a surf shop in redondo beach, california. 5 months
waiter at ESPN zone in new york city, new york. 3 months.
waiter at local seafood restaurant in miami, florida. 7 months
shift manager at local seafood restaurant in miami, florida. 5 months. quite a few pointless fast food restaurants throughout the state of california, arizona, and nevada. 12 months.

✖ preston's family moved to california in 2005. his father had remarried at this point in his life and they thought being near his side of the family was a better way of life. preston was residing in florida at this point in his own life. he refused to visit them in california.


✖ moved back to huntington beach in 2011 after a few years in kentucky to take over his fathers bar "The Last Call." His father was no longer able to manage and had a temporary family friend taking care of it. Preston moved into the upper apartment and finally contacted his younger sister after a couple years.


✖ october of 2012, preston went to help his grandparents with their estate in kentucky. after a few months he returned to california to pack up his belongings and finalize the selling of "The Last Call" to a family friend. he sold his motorcycle, packed up his belongings and moved back to kentucky to continue helping his grandparents. nearly a year later, both of his grandparents were moved to california and placed in the finest "retirement" condo he could find. unsure on whether he would stay in california for a 2nd time, his father took over the billing at the retirement home. he's currently trying to make a decision on where he'd like to go.


✖ preston decided to go back to california after a run-in with a family friend during christmas 2013. the man in questions was the one who bought The Last Call the year before. preston was in a pretty dark place, his grandmother passing away that november and his grandpa followed suit a week before christmas. he was set on the fact that he had went no where in his life, lost all the connections, and a job that he loved only for his grandparents to leave as well. this set him into a spiraling downfall of unfortunate events. his mindset was much like the one he had during his mothers sickness. he was fond of picking fights with absolutely anyone who would argue or even psychically fight him back. one night at The Last Call, he decided enough was enough. he walked up the bartender and punched him. the owner (and friend of his family) immediately tried to stop the altercation which resulted in preston hurting the older man. racked with guilt, embarrassment and grateful that he wouldn't be pressing charges, preston sunk deeper into self-pity. preston being the man that he was, disappeared. leaving no forwarding address or contact for his family, preston found himself traveling once again.


✖ preston once again found himself back home after a short stint with friends in florida. home being kentucky. he settled down in a small ranch style home that he rented for way too much money and found himself working odd jobs. eventually, preston found himself cooking & bar-tending for a little hole in the wall called Front Door Tavern. after pretending to be the anti-social hermit he truly wasn't for too long, preston found himself a lady friend. she was everything he wasn't and it was NOT a good thing. she was terrible for him. destructive, hateful, withdrawn, a co-conspirator if you will. they were truly terrible for each other in every way but one and yet they married each other a year later. (august 2015) in october, preston found himself in another soap opera-esque situation. fatherhood was not something preston ever wanted to add to the books. yet his wife, ________, surprised him in the worst way. they were helpless & disgusting for each other but maybe, just maybe, their offspring could bring a little beauty into their miserable lives. it only took a few weeks for preston to grow accustom to the idea of being a father...in fact, he found himself actually happy for the first time in a long time. those few weeks were probably the best & most civil times of their doomed marriage. it was until ____ admitted she had lied about being pregnant and that she was leaving him for good. racked once again with self-doubt & all out anger, preston fought the demons inside of him and did what he does best--- take off for a new town. being on the road meant not making promises and, once again , he found himself at ease. holding odd jobs and making it work from the road, california was his next stop. with no plans on staying or even talking to his family, his truck official died 67 miles outside of los angeles and way too close to home.

HAIR COLOR: Blond/brown
EYE COLOR: Green.
HEIGHT: 6'4"
SHOE SIZE: 12 MENS US
ACCENT: still holds onto a slight southern drawl.
SENSE OF STYLE: Preston is very laid back in sense that it's jeans and a t-shirt 98% of the time. If he's not dressed in multiplicities he's usually in a nice button down and tie. Those occasions that call for something a little more uppity, he definitely goes for the more casual side as well. He pairs a nice t shirt with a blazer and slacks. Has always had a knack for wearing black and/or white. Rarely does color enter his wardrobe but when it does it remains neutral. Silver highlights him in the accessories department and he has plenty leather (and pleather jackets) on hand.
IDENTIFYING MARKS:
TYPICAL SCENT: Sandalwood, Nag Champa. Oil and gas. Occasionally Cigarettes and Alcohol.
FIRST IMPRESSION: Preston comes off as unapproachable. His typical look is one of utter boredom which, in reality, is all a defense mechanism. He's slightly sarcastic, has a problem with older people thinking they have more to offer. Most woman tend to think that he's their typical 'Bad Boy' because of his ability to dress in the darkest, grungiest clothing he owns. In all actuality, Preston has never been in trouble with the law. He achieved decent grades throughout high school. He definitely comes off as someone who doesn't know which way is up BUT that is not the case.
POSITIVE TRAITS: Respectful to a certain extent, realistic, logical.
NEGATIVE TRAITS: Daring, Impulsive, Overly-caring. ignores/ rejects what's given. rebellious, closed off and secretive, indecisive, has a lack of faith in himself.