"Memoirs of an immigrant" by Stribor Weber

I was born far away from this city, far away from dirt and madness, a happy yokel from one former communist country in Europe who had a wife, children and beautiful house in suburbia. My dear Friend, You need just one short moment to lose all of that . War came and everything I've had has been taken away. Once my friends and neighbors and at this point angry mob killed my wife and burned my house with my daughters in it . It was even harder for me than for my family cause I watched helplessly on everything , tied to the oak tree near my home. I hoped my death is near, I hoped rest is near, but more than ten knife stabs from my lynchers didn't bring me peace cause I survived. After that I was gathering strength either to off myself or to avenge , but not enough strength I gathered. Some filthy monsters walked into my trap but not enough of them and they didn't cry and suffer as much I wanted them to cause I was too green to torture someone and my stomach wasn't much durable like now. At the end, living with all of this was so painful my dear reader. I needed to become someone else so badly, I wanted to be the exact opposite man. And I was born again but this time as a filthy monster from bad horror movies.
Too much of a pussy to blow my brains out or slit my wrists, I concentrated on bringing pain to the others . I was in so many wars around the world, did a lot of bad things to so many people and that haunts me even today. After some time street was my family. I worked as a street soldier, drug dealer, pimp, killer for so many gangs and other criminal organizations all over Europe. My knowledge of military tactics and weapons was so handy for that. In this process I learn that word means nothing and there is no fair dealing in this world at all, felt that on my own skin. I learned my lessons and after that I enjoyed in fucking over so many stupid self-styled Dons or mob bosses. So I went here in this shithole you call city. One foggy morning I drove here on my motorcycle and it reminded me of death, pain and poverty. Dope peddlers on the streets, hookers on corners, biker gangs, mobsters, gangbangers - enough lovely faces to call this place a home.
(Big thanks to everyone who was able to read all of this cause it is too lengthily. And sorry for all grammatical and spelling errors cause English is not my first language. And I am looking forward to rp with you. Have a great rp time 🙂 )