THE EPILOGUE -- TIME

Epilogue - An epilogue, epilog or afterword is a piece of writing at the end of a work of literature or drama, usually used to bring closure to the work. The writer or the person can deliver a speech, speaking directly to the reader, when bringing the piece to a close, or the narration may continue normally to a closing scene.



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epilogue




Time - Time is a part of the measuring system used to sequence events, to compare the durations of events and the intervals between them, and to quantify rates of change such as the motions of objects.[1] The temporal position of events with respect to the transitory present is continually changing; future events become present, then pass further and further into the past. Time has been a major subject of religion, philosophy, and science, but defining it in a non-controversial manner applicable to all fields of study has consistently eluded the greatest scholars. A simple definition states that "time is what clocks measure".



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time



To try to sum this all together is preposterous! The horrific blogger / writer that seems to like the attention and waste others time. ( Comment I heard someone say. ) It was unavoidable, though. Knowing I had to make logical sense out of this foolishness. Attempting to try, one last time. With what little I had and knew. I never said I'm any better then anyone else. I never wanted to make a ample deal about this. Many poeple said to me, "Grow up!" Not realizing that they have not grown up themselves. (Meaning, by takening the blame for there own actions in there own lives.) I had people mention to others that I have a drug addiction / dependancy. Yet, there the ones that do the same, if not more. Yes, I still use drugs. The ones that are prescribe to me. LOL. Now, someone may say. Well, that doesn't count. To me it does! It just that taboo of how to say it. Oh was I suppose to use the term narcotics instead. LOL. See where I am getting at. The whole tomato / tamoto concept. Just by the words alone, it put shame on someone. Forbid, if that someone owns up to it. ( For those who like to know how much I'm taking, One pill, once a day. 150mg. Mild dose. I'm so Patty Duke aka Neely O'Hara! LOL! )



Check this out, a web address that shows a diagram for how to discribe a user / abuser. Can you find yourself in that scale? Now, be honest! Also for those in the gay community, look the scale. It's RAINBOW! Wait a Minute! People may perceive that as an awful thing to say! (Little joke, there!)



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Spectrum_Diagram.PNG



I stated before, my way of thinking maybe askew. Always sorting throught the Negative bullshit first. Knowing what is left, is the equilibrium. Or a positive outcome. For those that do not follow. Glass of water concept. How childish, right? I never target the half full or half empty. My goal is always the middle. Having that concept in mind. Yes, I will have to go from one end or the other but I always know the balance is guarantee. A safe zone. A realistic assurance.



Very basic and dim witted, yet it works for me. I took what I learned. Re-fixed, if I felt it needed it and left the rest behind. Most people did not know, I was leaving Cliff. There were a lot that people whom didn't know anything nor did they care. I had it all planned out but I screwed up. Of course. I didn't let that be my downfall and give up. Understanding there was more to this story then some wanted me to know. There has been a bunch of trials and errors, which takes a lifetime to comprehend. Takes time to learn and accept. How do we accept? Well, let take some things into consideration. Surroundings, Education, Emotions, ETC. Need I say anymore.



TIME, is what they have in common though. Rose Kennedy once qouted, It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone. We all know this. Yet, for those who can reflect back. From one ERA to another, a lot would say. "Wow, If I can change back the hands of time!" ( Hence, those are the ones who tell me to, "Grow up!") Not getting that they were suppose to go threw it. That was their process of Maturing. TIME is the biggest bitch of all. It's one thing, that we can not control, and wish we could change. Another is to not agknowledge or comprehend why did the things that we did. Then afterwards to choose to accept it or not. That Denial. Do I feel after all what I said, all that I felt, everything that I experienced. Should I reconsider? No, it would defeat the whole purpose. Why dwell on it if I did everything that I could have done? Why put more TIME into it?




“Amor Fati – “Love Your Fate”, which is in fact your life.” Friedrich Nietzsche. I view fate as an ending. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an endding. Each endding, I had in my LIFE, has been a trying era or period. Keeping in mind, that I am not the only one. It's the coming to terms with it that really shows besides the effort. This blog was and still is my FUCK YOU to those people. My Suppressors who kept me from things that I should had know from the get go. Threw those experiences, which most see as pathic. I seen it as a way out. A way of self destruction. Voicing to myself, "Without distruction, there can be no Creation!" I had to go back into a past and take on issues,and terms that I never "REALLY", agknowledge.





It took TIME, to master many concepts. We all know the ghetto and trailer park story. Since a lot of us come from there. Or are still there. Forbid, we have to remind our selves of that. I fought for my second chance. The unforeseen, that many do not get. Almost 30, I torn myself to shreads in other to understand myself better. In front of people on twitter, just to prove a point. A growing up process, some do early in there lifetime. Others, do futher down the road of time. Ranging from their 20's, 30's, 40's, or 50's. Enough is enough though, let me explain the need for this in bullet points. So others can understand where I am coming from and what I was up against.




WHAT HAPPEN AFTERWARDS




. On the 25th of June 2011. I got arrested.



. On the 27th of June. I got out on an ROR. Was escorted by police officers to get belongings, found things of mine were missing. They belonged to the story/blog. I only got some belongings back, NOT ALL.



. On the 30th of June. They won the Final restraining order by DEFAULT. ( Final was held at Elizabeth, NJ. )



. Early evening, July 1st. I realized the small mistake. ( Mixing up the dates. )



. ( Besides the 4th of July weekend and working.) I managed to go over to Elizabeth, NJ to put in a motion to be heard about the Final Restraining order. That was on July 5th.



. July 5th. On my way back to Beachwood NJ, on Garden State Parkway. My car seizes out. The engine is shot!



. I lose my job, two days afterwards. Can't get to the locations. It was a traveling job. Some locations were out of state.




. The 21st of July. I go before the Judge in Plainfield to enter in the plea.
They decide to press charges. ( Hence the blog last two entries, on the the 14th and the 5th of July. ) I refused the plea bargin.

TWO YEARS OF PROBATION or ONE YEAR IN COUNTY JAIL.

They were saying, I took a Glass Jar and smashed it a persons face. I mention about the motion for the restraining order I put in. They had no idea.




. July 25th into the 26th. I walked to the Netherwood train station to cool off. I have a very severe panic attack at the train station and collaspe. Body spasms, and could not breath. Taken to ER and put into obersevation at JFK hospital. No one came. No money, either. Took me half the day to get back to Beachwood from Edison. By the time I got back, I felt like I had 3 rounds with a heavyweight.




. On the 30th, it was time for me to go. ( With Friends. They have lives too! My drama did not help.) They dropped me off at the YMCA, for shelter. But keep in touch.




. August 3rd, I was finally put in as HOMELESS by social services. Did the dance as most low rent people have to go threw. Since I work for 3 different companys as an Independant contractor. I do work. But I hardly get any hours or very few contracts. Since it is all 3 party company work. They made me go threw the process for workforce anyway. 28 days waiting.After the progarm is done. You can talk about your case, but it can take up to 30 days more to open. ( This is what I was told.)



. August 10th, go to Elizabeth, for my motion. I was heard. Everything taped recorded. I got two bonuses that day. They and their lawyer put in two counter motions. Also the judge read majorty of what was on my motion on the tape recorder. He agreed, it was to show my responablity but also to be at least HEARD!



. August 18th had over 600.00 stolen from me. Had a pre paid Card on me that was 900.00 for the trial. Each charge of Simple assault in NJ is. 1000.00 dollars, max fine. I had two charges! Do the math.



. I went into UCPC. Plainfield NJ. August 19th. Was diagnosed bipolar 2. ( Anxiety, Interpersonal realsonships, and Mood swings) Giving meds.



The rest of the month, of August. I was preparing myself for this little trial. Which was on the 8th of September. I Subpoena two of the four cops. I found as many lies as possible in the motions that they sent to the Judge in Elizabeth, NJ. Dealing with other sorts of people, who stuck in the system. Some far worst, then I. Use your Imagination. By the 8th of september. I did most of all the work for the public defender that I requested.





The trial was more emotional for me then anyone, I put my heart into this. Trying to prove myself. I endded getting what I wanted. After hour and half of showing what I had. I proved my point. Having the other party. RETHINK their plea bargin. I proved that they were lieing, I proved that were making things up. I proved the motions were done in panic. I endded up footing a bill. Also, taking the charges. They didn't have any medical insurance, so instaed of taken the bigger fee for the Simple assault. Just take the bill instead since they didn't go threw the program. Which the hospital pays for the part of the bill.




I ended up seeing 3 different lawyers. Just to hear what I was up against and how they would go about the case. The point of all this circus. There were four different stories told. the police report, (tro) temporary restraining order stated another story, the panic motions were another story, and so was the warrant! during The trial they just stood there slient. These were the reason why they went after me.



Make me look like the hypocrite.

Go after the blog.

Lie about there lifestyle.

To take a harsher sentence.

Keep me from leaving the state.




I can understand why someone would do something like this. being vindictive, feeling they should be able to punish and put pain on a person. The fact though they should have told the truth as well and not make a bigger deal about it. Instead, they thought they could be sly. I'm glad, I had this conviction. I'm not the smartest person and I know that for a fact. Of course, doing this! I seem to have wowwed a lot more people. To show how to be effective. Within the amount of TIME. I made people eat there words in a way. Not proud of it! Of course, I did it because I had too. I did a lot that most people would not do. Anyone who does not see why, can look below to find out and understand. I put so much TIME. That I sort of remembered my past and masterd it.




My fate was to leave, just what I wanted to do. So long ago. I was not going to let another person get in the way of doing that. TIME is what I had, and it was what I used to end this once and for all. Other people would have given up or paided someone else to do it. I spent TIME on this. TIME IS THE BIGGEST BITCH OF ALL! Those Long Illed Fateless Eras. LIFE. Really do a number on you. Remember, I did this without progarms, therapist's, 12 step, etc.





I not happy with what I have done, but I comprehend it. REALLY understand it and that why I can afford to talk this way. You have to go threw it to understand it, to grasp that concept. Then accept it. I have the oddest perception to get threw issues. I look towards the negative first. Why, because I know there will only be two other option after all the negative backlash. I said this before. I'm just use to it. I know all my bad points, and I can accept them for what they are "REALLY" are!




Long Illed, is a great way to discribe some parts of L.I.F.E. It's long and it sometimes dumb and dreadfully stupid. We all know this. As for fateless, well as I said. I look at fate as the end. That is it. An endding. But alast, ERAS. That's where the factor is. ERA..that period of time. There's is that word again, TIME. So if, LIFE can be long illed. That fateless..which means no end. It's endless. Era is just a time period.




I look at it as L.I.F.E. could be Long Illed. (That would be the, "Realist" in me.) Not that it is going to be for the rest of my life! Get it? Perception. From what I have been threw, I can say it has been as well! But the other half, fateless. Meaning it endless, there is no end. There is only "POSSIBLITES". In those eras, that I have not gone threw yet. I take things that most poeple have look as wrong as a negative way and made it work for myself. Trying to find a positive way out of it or look at it in a way that most would not. A trick that most people do not do for themselves.




So many people missed the bigger picture. In some states, anyone who writes a blog, is consider a writer. I got my story PUBLISHED. I also got my point acrossed. I stayed true to myself. I pushed threw the shit, and found out things I never knew I had in me. I did something that those five people and many of my fellow realitives could never do. Own up to my own faults, and show them for who they really were and still are to this day. The ugly truth hurts, that's why I went after myself! Know yourself first! Weakness and all.




It's a talent that many poeple do not have. Maybe some do and I have not met them. I Guess what I am really trying to say here, is that with TIME. I had to keep pushing because I want to get my word out. To show I am telling the truth and if I can't get it one way I will do it another, until those people understand. That this was their fault as well! I can't keep balaming myself for other peoples faults. That blaming myself for all these years, was bullshit! I took all this time to find out something I NEVER KNEW! Each era of my life, I tried to understand myself at that time. This is the first era, where it has come to an offical end. Where I have some.... Clarity!
At least, I feel that way in my gut!




Not that, my futre will not be troublesome. I went back into my past and did this by myself. I worked my ass off to put people in there place. I didn't care how I looked as the same as I was back then. I was and still am going to be ME! Airheaded, goofy, crazy, ME! I didn't have the education to make it more tasteful which I feel takes away from this blog, or the concept of it. Doesn't mean, I'm not telling the truth. I ran my mouth for over a year or so. Doing this dance, just to accomplish one thing which was what I was going to do before, 07/08/2007. LEAVE THE STATE. Move away. To get away from those people who drove me up the wall. As much as they say, I did the same. Was it Fate? Yes, it was!






There are facts to my fate that I have to Love! Out of my entire family, I pulled off what I said what I was going to do. Besides that, the last name I have ISN"T REALLY MINE! Those trying moments where I said, Fuck it! Where I finally fought back.Someone mention to me. "Welcome to the next level!" What I was thinking..." You mean, there's a NEXT LEVEL? FUCK!!!!!!! LOL! What ever happens next well, will be if a different enivorment. But i guess i am coming to my close, Nietzsche once said. At least, I think it was. "There is your way and there is my way. But as for the RIGHT way. The ONLY way. It does not to exist!" This my way. A way that few don't bother doing. Taking what they can learn. Chopping it up, reworking it. Making it work for themselves. Just because something sounds negitive doesn't mean, that the person is always looking at it as a negative outcome or answer. It's not the best advice and it's not the most oringial but it's a statement that I have heard but held true.





Take everyones advice and listen to where they are coming from. Be selective on what you chose to listen too, and if you have to rework it in a way that works for you. DO IT! MORE FUCKING POWER TOO YOU! EMPOWER YOURSELF BITCHES! Then leave the rest behind and walk away. Some people made me seem like the next Valerie Solanas! LOL! Right now, I can say that I finally did that. Not promising there will be a brillant future, but there will be A FUTURE. That the many possiblites are in those eras. That the time that I spent on this was not a waste. Though it was a bitch spending such time on this material. But now, Knowing I do not have to blame myself for everything. That it was not all my fault. Allen Lakein qouted, Time = Life, Therefore, waste your time and waste of your life, or master your time and master your life. I can surely now say, I have not wasted it! No matter what anyone will say or do!

EFFORT, WAS IT WORTH IT? ( THE END OF AN ERA)

You see, "addiction" is a human trait, everyone who has "wants" has addictions, the difference between these addictions is some are socially acceptable, and some are not. (James Jamesson)





I do agree with this concept. James hit the nail on the head. The difference is, I'm more UPFRONT about my issues. He has an image to live up to. He will not be able to speak in depth about everything that he might like. Not to mention, being a representive for any company that hires him. It's is hard for some poeple to read others. PERCEPTION! Not saying, it's awful. It just sometimes he has to think for his career. Yet, also his lifestyle. Just like anyone else.







I decide to let everything go. I say, go ahead protray me as a drug addict, depict me as this horrible person. Represent me as what anyone else can say, but forbid if I have the proof behind it. Showing people and people alone, made me this way as well. Why can't anyone take there own responablity? It's every man for themselves, right?. I understand that, but that isn't the issue anymore! THERE IS A PRICE FOR EVERYTHING. When it comes to having people in Life. Money. Marriage. Careers. Etc. Well, I say, let this be the fee. With 100 precent interest!








Like I said before. I smoked the pipe. I DON"T OWN A PIPE! NEVER DID! NOR HAVE A SOURCE. BUT YET, HERE I AM BEING PUSHED AND PROTRAYED AS A BIG DRUG ADDICT. I MEAN, Also METHADONE!!!! SO I FIGURED, IF THATS THE WAY PEOPLE WANT TO PLAY IT. LETS OWN UP TO IT AND SHOW THEM WHAT I REALLY HAVE DONE. Which is nothing compared to most. I have seen and been on websites, that are the unmentionables to others standards. I say, how does one comprehend such. If they have not gone through similar. Then allowed to make a choices for oneself. Or whoever is in those surroundings of there very own life. To decide what is morally wrong in there own lifestyle, and what is sensibly right. Fact of the matter is that ADDICTION is another word for DEPEDENCY.






In which, we as a human society / community. Are all depended on something or someone. Example. Money! We are all depended on money, right? Money makes the world go round, right? I guess that would make majority of people, MONEY ADDICTS! As stupid as that sounds. Forbid that pedantic outlook which holds true. You need that
currency to survive. People are dependent on funds wether they know it or not. It's the same as humans. We are all dependent on each other. We need others to live, to teach us. Give us work. ETC. Or we will become the lower primates and most likely perish, sooner then later. Remember though, their are such principles of behavior to every lifestyle and family atmostphere, sweethearts. You just have to make the choices and be able to DEAL with whatever the conclusions maybe. Hasn't the Repression, taught people anything?







I'm expecting a lot of oral punishment by many. Like, I haven't gotten far more then enough! Although, I have this knowledge to be able to aruge and understand. RATIONALIZE. For my actions and the reactions! A lot of humans can not do this! I am conflicted, but I can at least, amitt to it. That's why most people are bothered by me. Even the attempt to consider, offends most. Everyone wants to be in the right but no one wants want to be in the wrong. That is the issue here as well! You can't keep blaming someone for the wrong over and over again.







http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Addiction


See also: Substance dependence (drug addiction) and Behavioral addiction



Historically, addiction has been defined as physical and psychological dependence on psychoactive substances (for example alcohol, tobacco, heroin and other drugs) which cross the blood-brain barrier once ingested, temporarily altering the chemical milieu of the brain.

Addiction can also be viewed as a continued involvement with a substance or activity despite the negative consequences associated with it. Pleasure and enjoyment would have originally been sought; however, over a period of time involvement with the substance or activity is needed to feel normal.[1] Some psychology professionals and many laymen now mean 'addiction' to include abnormal psychological dependency on such things as gambling, food, sex, pornography, computers, internet, work, exercise, idolizing, watching TV or certain types of non-pornographic videos, spiritual obsession, self-injury and shopping.[2][3][4][5]

The American Society of Addiction Medicine has this definition for Addiction:


Addiction is a primary, chronic disease of brain reward, motivation, memory and related circuitry. Dysfunction in these circuits leads to characteristic biological, psychological, social and spiritual manifestations. This is reflected in the individual pursuing reward and/or relief by substance use and other behaviors. The addiction is characterized by impairment in behavioral control, craving, inability to consistently abstain, and diminished recognition of significant problems with one’s behaviors and interpersonal relationships. Like other chronic diseases, addiction can involve cycles of relapse and remission. Without treatment or engagement in recovery activities, addiction is progressive and can result in disability or premature death.








I mention, "I dispise Domestic Violence for any human being. But as a last resort, sometimes, it's justly!"







With the matter of Cliff and I. That's where I take this statement to heart. For the second case at 915 Kensington Ave. Well, in that situation. Yes, I did go off. I felt and knew where I was at fault. Though, they were trying to push me out. As well, my limits. They made a choice. I don't think people understand what they get themselves into. There might be good intentions in the beginning. In the future though, it takes a toll. You either, work threw the problem / issue at hand. Or do like most people and jump ship. There was only so much I could have done. In my position. It was sort of like a concept of a marriage. I mean, hello. I stayed with them for almost five years! ( Cooking, cleaning, Etc. They bailed me out for 25 thousand dollars. I felt obligated! )










The points below are the basics to Domestic Violence. There also the Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project. Might be a bit to late for me but this can as well help someone else. I read, that threating to throw someone out and making them homeless is considerd domestic abuse. That fact is. Also, my opinion. There is always some abuse / problems in every relationship. It just if both parties are willing to understand, respect, and are willing to fix it.( Also, how much can they take! Mentally, physically, and emotionally. ) THIS TAKES TIME....A LONG LENGTHY DURATION.





No one deserves to be abused.




Abuse can be physical, sexual, emotional, psychological, and involve verbal behavior used to coerce, threaten or humiliate.




Abuse often occurs in a cyclical fashion.




Abuse often occurs and is most dangerous when one partner in a relationship seeks to leave.




The purpose of the abuse is to maintain control and power over one's partner.




The abused partner feels alone, isolated and afraid, and is usually convinced that the abuse is somehow her or his fault, or could have been avoided if she or he knew what to do.




A pattern of violence or behaviors exists where one seeks to control the thoughts, beliefs, or conduct of their intimate partner, or to punish their partner for resisting their control. This may been seen as physical or sexual violence, or emotional and verbal abuse.





http://www.aardvarc.org/dv/gay.shtml

http://gmdvp.org/









Fact is, they could not handle it anymore. One can say, I couldn't either. It's a lot of bullshit that I have on my plate. More so, when the issues bleed onto someone else. People need to take that concrete existence of what you are getting yourself into. Be able to take accountablity for yourself and those actions. Also, what you don't put into it. Besides, anyone else that may be accounted for. It's alot think about, KNOWING IT JUST NOT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU! Some once told me that humanity is shit. That it is overrated. Yet, this was from a bitter old queen, who lived life and wasn't content with himself or his lifestyle which he established. I learned from him but did NOT want to become him. That's why we clashed. Set in his old ways, I defining ways and being able to have some ADAPTATION.







I aruge, that concept of of age is nothing more so then a number. It's the mentally. What the persons have been threw that can make a couple / group work. What they see as eye to eye. Make there packs. There own rules. Not saying that couple / groups maybe in love. There is though a understanding and a profound respect. The old saying goes from Mrs. Jackie O herself. “The first time you marry for love, the second for money, and the third for companionship.” Well, legally. I did not marry. It sure felt like a two marriages though! Not to mention, the years I put into it!








You see, we are coming to an end of an era. Where you have to be up front. Reputation is easy to demolish.( Unless, that is what the person wants! So they can start a new! ) This we all know but, most of us do not want to agknowledge. Once you are set, in one lifestyle, one extent. Just know how to conduct yourself in that area, that time, that moral code. That's where you can make the decision, wether if you can stay, or just suck it up for awhile. To tolerate it. In order, to be human. To be that humanitarian. You have to be both, cruel and kind. Also, be able to have the concept of that. To endure that notion. Know where your boundards are. To be able to do that. You have to be able to live your twenties. You are allowed to your mental state, the first emotion is usually the legitimate. (The fine print, though.) It's just don't act on your emotions, right away!








Applying the above paragraphy to one person. WOW! Think when it comes to someone else. Lovers, friends, Kids, ETC. For I to be this way. I believe you have go threw the humane and imhumane. Stick to what you know, but willing to listen to someone's advice. Appreciate where they are coming from. Being opened minded. I should be able to move on to the next chapter. In my low rent life without anyone or anything in my past coming back to haunt me. You see, this is a growing up process. MY GROWING UP PROCESS! To be able to understand the concept but respect it as well. Conforming to what I felt was right! Not to mention, having others understand it as well. Of course, it is their choice for them to respect that. Don't like it, TAKE A FUCKING WALK! The Metaphorical line has been drawn.







As I said before, remember these are just aspects of my life. Not full story. There are just some things in life which we do not TALK about or want to as well! I still have those trying periods. Where I still manipuate and angle what I have to say. It's is just socially tolerable, everyone does this. Just others are not so blunt. Once I'm able to finish what I have to say. Then I can close my mouth and be able to past the low rent scepter to someone else.








To get off the thrown, to extent this low rent legacy. It is very doubtful that you find people being so honest, because they have their own intentions behind it. It has to favor them. For me, this all I have. This has been my reward, therapy, closure. My everything. This is what I have to pass down. My knowledge of my twenties, the teens, and childhood years. To hope to live comfortable for awhile. Knowing I did what I could. Made every effort. My past if it does come back. I will be expecting it and it will not knock me off guard. My morals are askew a bit, to certain indiviuals. That is because, I had to under go life's many termoils that those people did not want to conceive. By my own choice or not. Then to be able to adapt. I know, I exhausted all other options. I push my ablities to a known end. May not seem like much to someone but thats how you know when someone is telling the truth. They have "THAT" drive. Passion. Ambition. SOME FUCKING EFFORT!









I don't see these three people trying to make a difference. The only thing I saw was others trying to save their own ass. As pathetic as this blog maybe, as simple minded. As lonesome, it is effort behind this. Thats stand out the most. The conviction, but also the rationalization. Or at least, emotional attempt. The concept, "No guts, No glory!" comes to mind. The psychology dysfunctional damage is absurd. My mother used to say, when she did strike me as a kid. "You think that is abuse!" Abuse is when you have welts on your back and bleeding all over the place, that is abuse!" Well, I guess I proved that theory wrong, didn't I. WOW! I am amazed. If you would have told me at sixteen. This was who I was going to become. I would have laughed right at you. I remember, The label of being. Hearing people saying, Oh great, here comes trouble! The problem, they didn't understand is that they ingaged it. To make a problem / conflict, one party has to have an issue with the other party! There has to be two Opposing views. I hope something I say sticks to someone's head. Thinking for one second. Even if they have doubt. To what I have to say. Questionting the logic behind it. I know I have done my part.









At the end of my twenties, I can honestly say. I have built my stable foundation of life, my standards, my opinions, my system of beliefs. ETC. This is the end of MY ERA! This period of MY L.I.F.E. LONG ILLED FATELESS ERAS. I have losted everything, Sacrifice everything. Just to be like this. To follow threw this, to live this stanrdard, to which I see fit. Adapted to its social standards, and still make people go. WHOA! I hope I can now pick a lifestyle which I will be able to be comfortable. But also, someone will be able to pick me as well! To have that choice and no one too much control it.








Now, I remember stating that I would be talking about "Hospital Records Vol. 4" and "Jail Records". Well, things change! Instead of telling everything about the records and stating the obvious. Skip all that. My process, blew hard because I had to do this alone. Also, without much memory. I could remember my name and my address. Asked me where my adoptive father worked. Street, or location. I would go blank. Phone numbers were jummbled. I wasn't dumbfounded, it just the little details were wrong. It was diffcult to recuperate from something like that. Actually, it was a bitch!








Example. The couple I was staying with at 915 Kensington Ave, didn't know where I was at till about 2 weeks later. The letters I was sent were to 905 Kensington Ave. I had about 5 - 6 letters come back to me. All at one time. It was easy getting a hold of my mother. Right? No, it took me 5 days to find somebody that knew where my adoptive father worked and give me an address to that company. Found out from a "bunkie". I'm getting to ahead of myself. My processing, my strip search, took some time. Instead of going to the B pod, which is an overcrowded waiting area.(3 men to 1 cell) I was placed in the medical ward. I was on observation. For obvious reasons. Carrying a conversation, going into the general population of men. Being Miss Congenality of the Corrections? I don't think so! One Correction Officer, "CO" called us. Lower primates.











I was going to awake from this hallucination, right? The medical ward had two small wings. One for the insane. The other wing for those who were ill, and needed to be quarantine. I had to be honest with my answers to the best of my ability when talking to the intake worker. I think they got bewilderd with what I had to say. Meth and Methadone. It happens. The confusion. Of course, it's things like that which can screw up a lot of shit. Being on watch the workers were waiting for me to suffer from withdrawls. Nothing of the sorts. I remember reading such computer generated signage. " This isn't Burger King. You can not have it your way. Or even right away. Your way got you here!" That saying still makes me chuckle to this day. You have to see the humor in that. It's the only way to get threw the processing.








Another thing that plays in my head. Were two scenes that I found inspirational for myself. Double Jeopardy, with Ashley Judd. Funny, as it may seem. Roma Mafia, giving legal advice. Was one of those, empowering momments. "Your in prison. No wants to listen to anyone in prison! ( Cut some parts ) So you want my advice, you do your time!" I did the crime, I knew it but I had every valid reason to do it. This is before I could confirm. I just had to get my head right. Another scene, is with the chacter of Evelyn ( Davenia McFadden ) yelling out with a cig in the hand. " I have to hand it to you honey! It's just shear hate driving you on!" I'm sorry, but my story was not just an act. No one really understood the other side of why? To explain it, and to go threw it. To really see threw it, as well. All those repressed memories.








I knew, MY PROBLEMS WERE NOT INSIDE THAT JAIL, THEY WERE OUTSIDE THAT FACILITY! There was only one way to go about this. To get back out there. Then get my closure. I could put up with a lot of shit in my life but there is a PRICE TAG for my LOYALTY! I knew there was something up. I felt it. It was time to let my crazy out, once that came out. Well you could see threw the crybaby story on cryspace. Manifest into something bigger. This is what happens with time. I sat in my jail cell trying to collect my sanity. Trying to make sense of the complex thoughts that plagued me.








I when in B pod, I wrote self help therapy letters. I only shared to myself. 10 different anger letters. Before I even sent one out to my adoptive father. Which was much nicer. I told him not to tell my mother because I will get myself out. As you can see, that didn't work. Gave her away, as well. This was her chance and she blew it. The catch is one the first few paragraphs in her hand written letter. "We didn't leave you, you left us!" Which PISSED ME OFF! I knew that wasn't true. Only few knew that wasn't true either. I wrote more letters to other people. People that were in Cliff's and I's social circle. Trying to be at least the bigger man but still bititng my tounge. I tried to seeing others views. I even wrote one for the Harbour Club Association.








I also statred writng a journal inside the jail. Keeping records of what was happening. Just for myself. To remind me of those time. What I had to go through and why I pushed myself to go through all of this. The journal, was my very rough copy to a book, which started to grow. I had to stay in B pod and listening to a 42 year old black man. Pathological liar, talk about his girlfriend. Whom set him up. Another cell mate name "P" was in for robbery. His bail 125 thounsad dollars, I sat there on the floor. On a plastic bunk because of over crowding. Smelling piss and mold. Spider webs on the floor and in the conners. Trying to consider how was I going to obtain information. Writing on a peices of paper. What I could remember. At nights, I could hear that guy complain. Finally, someone had enough. Another momment.








"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Our cell mate "P" cried out. " Yo man, take a look at Alex down there. Boi can't even remember his own fucking phone number and doesn't have any friends or family to help him out. No support there and you don't see him crying like a bitch! He's in his 20's. YOUR A GROWN FUCKING MAN!" Talk about being under the spotlight. How I really wanted to cry like a bitch, though. Maybe I held my composure because I had to do it in front of a hospital camera. That is the one of the reason why I say, This is for the low rent. Don't you think men like that could use this as an example? Not me as a template, just that event. Anyway, no matter here.







I remember around 1am. One night where two CO's brought in a someone. You could tell, he came from those neighborhoods where you have to be thicked skinned. To my suprized. When the officers tried to escort him to the cell. " Nah, nah, nah, nah! I ain't gonna in there! Fuck that ! I'm staying, right here! Fuck that shit." (By now your mind should have said, wrong move!) Not even a second later of trying to push away from the two officers. Also, not listening to the officers crys to sit down on the floor. Four more CO's rushed in and started to beat down the unruly inmate. I watched not in terror or shock but a abstruse haze. Watching the inmates face being smashed into the ground. The other officers holding him down. The screaming and fighting. Other lower primates awoke and started to shout out, "Police brutality!" Another shouted out "Someone get the chicken suit!" It was all most like being in grade school.









The reason why the lower primate flipped his shit. Was because he was a Crypt and the two men that were in the cell, were Bloods. (As rumor has it! Cell block gossip, What! Even in jail they have there water cooler station!) I happen to find this out, the next morning. There's a lot of hustle and bustle, with overcrowding jails. In this institution. B Pod lets you out for an hour. Eat, and shower. If your duration is longer then two weeks. D pod, Nicer quaters. Able to walk around. Watch TV. Go to Rec. or the library. It's like, grounds privileges. As long as you don't screw up.









Now, what is a chicken suit? Well a chicken suit is a yellow shear cotton rippable fabric. That most inmates wear if they are suicidal and try to harm themselves while in jail. The inmate can not hang themseleves with this fabric. I kept this in mind because of the certain time. I went to the the medical ward for a boil. Oh those were a bitch, but what was really an eye opener. Was to see a grown black man rip his chicken suit off. Wrap it around his neck in the metal ward cell and scream out in front of all. "I'm Superman!"











Now this is rediclious, this guy was 30 years old behaving like a 5 year old. Which might be cute then. Some would say the guy was doing this for attention, or just to get his own cell. What proved to me he need mental attention. Was the way he climb the bunk bed, to the top. Lunged off, falling flat onto the cemment floor naked. After the 5th time, with 15mins. My balls seized up and started to hurt! Doing it for attention or not. He may have not been superman, but hitting the cement ground that hard. He must have been a man of steel and most people say I'm crazy, HA!









When I came back from my trip to family court. The final restraing order being processed. I had been moved from B pod to another cell in the same pod. I would hear the talk, for trading. You would save food and trade it for someothing else. An inmate who could pass for a young Chris Rock, with mini dreads. Shouting out, "Yo, yo, cookies for juice!" Thinking about makes me giggle too. Right there, I understood that nickname. Lower primates. We were not judge yet, but we were going to be. No matter what we did. We were going to be societies scum for awhile. If not already. I need to mention that hidden meaning of respect, as well. You could tell the big leagues gang members vs the first year ones. One inmate replied to me. "You wouldn't see this in prison. Bloods and Crypts, playing together. Like their jummping rope or playing hop scotch!" I had to agree with the metaphor. You could tell. It's in the eyes. Not trying to sound spooky, or Psych out someone. You have to be preceptive.







Latin Kings and Queens of America, N.E.T.A., Bloods, Crypts. MS - 13. There is a hidden meaning of understanding that goes agknowledged. Some know this, other do not. To say that I was approached, for a gang. Was not said directly. It was more so asked within a favor. A lot knew what was going on with my situation but they also knew I was telling the truth why I did it. The only thing I had to say though was no to the favor, and that was that. As long as you don't cause trouble, you will be fine. One story that will stay in my mind. Is a 17 teen year old boy. Got put into B pod holding area. As rumors go. As they always do. He was suppose to have taken the rap for his brother who was a Latin King. The brother shot someone. Since his younger brother was a minor. Well, you get the picture. Don't know if that story is true.








This is what I know and saw. Ever see the original Halloween. LOL The Dr. Loomis momlouge when he discribes Michael Myers. Well, it was just want I was thinking when I looked at this kids eyes. The blank face, full of rage. There was no way to describe this kid but pissed and crazied. This 17 teen year old who had his life set. Put the saying, "If looks can kill!" Into effect. How serious I think this kid was. Well. If the CO's threw a doverman pincher into cell, that had not been fed for a day or so. The kid would win 10 to 1. I think about that 17 year old time and time again. That is one story. I wish was not true. As well as the rumors. Content endding, I hope so.








I got transfered to D pod, which is cleaner. I watched from the windows, at night. Men throwing gang signs to each other. From one pod to another. My new cell mate, a guy that has been to prison for armed robber. Was now in jail. Waiting. I got library privileges, unlike when in B pod where I had to send out for materials. I got maybe two books. Which were irrealvant to the nature of what I requested. It keeped me occupied. Forced to read them out of boredom. It was that or nothing.








You see, when I was in jail. I could fall back and take orders. It not like I didn't understand them, nor that they were unfavorible either. i was there for a reason. The fact of the matter, even though it was lonely and I felt peeks of helplessness. By keeping myself occupied. It killed the time. Not like there wre "groups" to help us lower primates. At least not to my knowledge. The severity of the matter. I had an Aggravated assault which was about ten years prison time alone. Plus four other charges which were about 5 years all together. If found guilty of all five.









What's priceless. My bail was really 50 thousnda dollars, with no 10%. By the time the couple got to me. A week or so later. It would have been my time to face the judge. To lower my bail. I told them wait, might as well stick it threw for couple more days, so the bail can set at a lower amount. 25 thousand dollars with 10 %. Now if that doesn't scream out I'm taking advange of people I don't know what does. That was joke. It's not my nature to take advatage of anyone. When I need a favor to be cashed in, believe me I will call someone for that favor. I hardly ever ask though. When I was finally let go, "bailed out". After those 38 days in that instution. I remember saying to my bunkie at the time. " Hope to never see you again!" The way that i said that, was not in a harsh way, but more so an endear manner. The other guy knew that as well. I knew the problems were bigger then me. What I was facing, was now. Not to prove. Yet, own up little by little too. To the issues that were true. Also, the ones that were not. To set the record straight. This was my chance. This was the last 5 years of my life. Which I would have to own up too.









"At 30, a man should know himself like the palm of his hand. Know the exact number of his defects and qualities, know how far he can go, foretell his failures, be what he is, and above all. Accept these things!" (Albert Camus)








I say this not out of spite or thinking that I'm any better, because after looking at this. I am indeed not! I do know, there are a whole worst off beings that could not use me as example but the examples of what I went through. My dumb naive ways, I have learn this. The best way to get back at someone is to tell the truth about them, but make sure that they suffer from it. If they are prone to it then don't bother. With all this time has pasted. There is nothing else left but the truth, and as ridicliuos as it is. That's what makes it more believable.










There was this falsehood to my life in which, I felt like I didn't fit into. It just wasn't enough and I was unhappy about it. Not to mention, this took all this time to understand that concept. Many others feel the same way. In my opinion. Really what it comes down to, Is I had to completely destory what was left of my life in order to obtain a new one. Which didn't work for me. I destory whatver was left of my past. That I did and didn't know in order, to obtain a different outlook for my future. However small it maybe. I know now I can walk away. Having learned, choosing what I needed from it, and hoping I can leave the rest behind. Being able to create something new for me and MY FUTURE.












What I have lost in my life. Was security, money, the blanket, saftey, family friends, etc. What I gained is A preception. Rationality, Adaptabilty, Knowledge, Dignity, Loyalty, which some can aruge that is misguided. For myself and anyone else in my life if they feel I am worth there time. Which is now much to ask from anyone. You have to know yourself but as well as others. That comes with time and lessons. So as I stated before, "IS IT REALLY WORTH IT?" Well having come to the end of my twenties's. The end of my era. "WAS IT REALLY WORTH IT?"









I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA......BUT IT WAS ONE HELL OF A "FUCKING LOW RENT RIDE!"






THE END




Good luck to all on your epoch ventrues. I will be placing the rest of D&D Aspects, with the coming days.

HOSPITAL RECORDS VOL. 3 / R.O.R. / 5 YEAR ANNIVERSARY

“The world we see that seems so insane is the result of a belief system that is not working. To perceive the world differently, we must be willing to change our belief system, let the past slip away, expand our sense of now, and dissolve the fear in our minds.”


William James



“I wouldn't recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they've always worked for me.”


Hunter S. Thompson




“For me, insanity is super sanity. The normal is psychotic. Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.”


Jean Dubuffet




I wanted to make this blog entry ample. On 07/08/2011, it will be five years to when I physically assaulted Cliff Mulkey with a metal rod. ( A broom stick was heavier. I'm just saying!) I lost my "COOL". One can see from the police report. That this was a "BULLSHIT" case. You can not ever go against a cops word. So my story, wouldn't even matter. I could tell anyone, how I never used a broom stick on Cliff. How he was the one who pushed me first. But I pushed back. He pushed me again. I defended myself! Right next to a glass dinning room table that he had my with his own hands. Also, how I started attacking him like a skinny bitch. Limp wristed and all.





I embraced that brief time period. There will not be a moment in my future that I will ever forget it. My hands turned into fists and the sad little boy. That awkward queer. Finally, stood for something. Chris Rock was right about this. " NO ONE IS EVER ABOVE AN ASS WHOOPING!" The only reason why I stopped. I saw blood trickling along the side of his forehead. Here was this man who repressed me for all these years. Played mind games and so much more. Many other gay men and boys. Not to mention women as well. Had and will go threw the same thing, unfortunately. I loved him and I loathed him as well. There he was in the conner of the kitchen, hands over his face. In a fetal position and I was the one who finally transcend and surpassed him.






I never felt so empowered in all my Life! Above him, on the counter. The cheap kitchen knife stood. For a second, I wanted to grab one of those knives. I wanted to use it in such ways that only morbid serial killers can describe. Oh that churning animosity. How did it come to this? How did I stress myself out so much? Living this lie again. This life where you have to put on this semblance. My perception became, defined. All those issues he put me through and not to mention what I put myself through. His affairs. His lies. The car problems. My jobs, that I lost by my own faults and his. The rumors, that were flying back and forth. That I was this hardcore drug addict. That I was Mentally Ill. That my mother might have something to do with this.







I was moving, as well. I just never told him when. I left brochures to many different places. Atlantic City, NJ and Philly, PA. Just to name examples. Others may see that as paranoid but I didn't know if he would follow me. Which he has done before. I was alone in this contention. I didn't know who to trust. Not to mention, I was starting to doubt own myself. Taking to much of the burden. What triggered this event though. What I knew and what most of the neighborhood would come to find out, from my hollering and shouting at him. Was the verification that he made. A 3000.00 dollar confirmation. A few weeks before, Cliff and I were having those quarrels again. This time his neighbor from upstairs. A very religious person but kept an open mind. Was right in front of us. The roxy story came up. Yet, again!







The women, which will remain nameless. Stood there in shock. Out of anger, I mention. "Well, why don't you just pay me to leave! I don't know, slap 3000.00 dollars on the table and we can be done with this!" Cliff always wanted to show how much of a man he could be. Like most people who love threating homelessness. He did the same. The fight grew a bit louder. I was so pissed. Well to make this story short. Two days later, he gave me 3000.00 dollars. From that moment,it put me in a displacement of shock. Also, set off the delayed trigger. Just like the time my sister told me I was being abandoned. All that time, all that wailing, all those disputes. The many labels. I knew I was right but I didn't want to believe it. This is what ratified it. Who would believe me, right? I did take it. To make record of it. But now, that institution, Commerce bank, is long gone.








Looking at that knife set for that second. Must have snapped some sort of pity and reality for Cliff. I ran out of the kitchen, and towrads the living room / tv room. In the Dinning room, I could feel the rush. The adrenaline . I started
hyperventilating. Crying out for him to get out of the house. This is where a question rises. What kind of nut bag, beats the hell out of his whatever you want to call Cliff. Then pulls back and tells Cliff to get out of his house. When the deed in his name. Anyway, there is more to that small tale. This small act of Domestic Violence. Why waste my time, though. Even if I am telling the truth. In which, I am. Who would ever be this forward? What good will it do? That damage is done. A friend and I were saying that old saying which I'm getting tired of hearing. " It is, what it is! " The question now, which I am coming across. "BUT, WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?"





http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperventilation






Stress or anxiety commonly are causes of hyperventilation; this is known as hyperventilation syndrome however is a diagnosis of exclusion.[5] Hyperventilation can also be brought about voluntarily, by taking many deep breaths in rapid succession. Hyperventilation can also occur as a consequence of various lung diseases, head injury, or stroke (central neurogenic hyperventilation, apneustic respirations, ataxic respiration, Cheyne-Stokes respirations or Biot's respiration) and various lifestyle causes. Lastly, in the case of metabolic acidosis, the body uses hyperventilation as a compensatory mechanism to decrease acidity of the blood. In the setting of diabetic ketoacidosis, this is known as Kussmaul breathing - characterized by long, deep breaths.







My stay at Raritan Bay Medical was not lengthy. It was around the early evening by the time I got to the hospital. I have to say it felt like being born again. This was an experience I would not like to go through again. When the officers brough me to the medical center. I was told to sign papers. I was lucky I could even spell my name correctly not to mention speak it. I rememeber, the big steel doors. With it automatic engine, grinding like an old dump truck lift. The first room on the left. (Hence a new horror movie title. Joke.) I could see the bed from the window. The to my right from where I was standing was the nurses station. The place, a darken baige and gray atmostphere. This was a not happy ward. Somewhat dirty, yet the muffled voices of the staff and yelling of the patients. Made me think, for a second. Maybe I should have tried to off myself instead!







When I was escorted into the room. This icky dingy baige color was on the walls. It was not the only thing that stood out. With a bed in the middle of the room. A video camera on the other wall. Recording everything that I did. I was told to lay down, and my right hand was hand cuffed to the bed. A few minutes later, after the nurses and officers, collected their infomation. I started to adjust to my new surroundings. I knew the two police men were at the closed door. Standing guard. I glanced out of the window. Peering at the nurses station. Listening to what was being said. There was no one to call and no one to be at by my side. So much, had gone on, I could not get a grasp. From beating the hell out of someone, to having an officer draw out his gun. Being arrested. Transfered to a police station. Then not being able to speak because of the shock, taken to county jail. To have a nurse examine you and ask if you were suicidal. Let's be honest here. " Yes, No, I don't know. Maybe? " Was how I best explained it.







It's pretty diffcult to be rational here. When there are many more small matters that have happend. The cuffs kept digging into my skin as I kept yanking at them. I felt myself starting to let go. This tidal wave of emotional that I could not handle just engulfed my body, mind, and whatever I had left called. A Soul. I kept fight back the tears, and for some reason had some notion to punch myself. To numb the emotion. Take my mind on off what I was thinking and feeling. I started to rip the hair out from my head. Letting the last of my own life's frustrated out. At least, at that present period. This went on for a bit longer till the two cops with a nurse came rushing in and cuffed my left wrist.









For hours, I laid there moaning and crying out. Recalling the old blog post (Directional and Delusional Aspects) entry which was titled. "I'm not the only one with problems." I touched upon, a patient. Yelling and carrying on. To the nurses. " Fuck you, you stupid cunts! Fuck you, and I hope you die! I want out of this place. You Bitches! You whores!" I thought I was in a movie for a second. Nope, it was all to real. The others shirking. Even a person at the nurse station, "I'm 42 years old. I'm grown. I should be able to sign myself out! I don't need my mother to come down here and do it for me. I signed myself in, I should be able to sign myself out!" I heard this for hours. Trying to get sleep was not on the program. I had nothing to eat or to drink, until my release the next day. Which was around, 330pm.







Wish I have gotten a copy of the taping of my stay. It would have been a laugh for all to share but here is something that would always stay in my mind. Another cop came into the room with a lunch tray. He had taken over a shift for the other officer. He put the tray of food on the end hospital bed. The policeman mention that he was going to take the cuffs off and not to do anything dumb. I eyeballed him. He was very sympathic and I could see that. Maybe he was gay himself. Who knows. I focused on him taking the cuffs off. My left wrist first, which he was very gentle. I kept watching him. Scared. Like a caged animal. I could feel the blood throbbing to my hand. He walked slowly to the other side of the bed and released the other cuff.








Once the cop took the other cuff off. I quickly leaped backwards to the conner of the bed. Pushing my back into the wall, which was next to a conner of the room. I felt like a scared rabbit. It was almost primal. Now, I was the one curling into a fetal postion. The cop froze. He knew that I was more scared of him, and anyone else who came near me. It took me a few minutes later, after the cop left. To go near the lunch tray. I ate it so fasted I almost choked on it. A couple of times. I scaned the room over and over again. But what remains in my mind was that feeling. That helpness. I never felt vulnerability to that extreme. Like I said before. It was like being born again. Emotional and mentally.








I was told to write on this paper. There were two questions. Number one. What will I do now? Number two. What I would do in the future? This was to see if I was competent. By the time I was taken back to county jail, I was now speaking a bit. My adjustment was short term. Just like the last one. Only it was called, multiple stress. It basicly, the same thing. At Centra State in Freehold, Nj. Great perception, is one of the favorable qualities when coming out from the most unpleasent. I knew that I had much more issues to conquer. Going through the system and obeying societies rules but always having in mind that I would get my point across. No matter how much I would be beaten down.







Let's talk about the present for a bit. As for anyone to know. I was arrested again. On the 25th of June 2011. Why does everything happen in the summer? Anyway, the couple I was living with. Did not like that I was writting this blog. I didn't want to turn this on them. They did get me out of jams, bail me out. One of them even save my life. The issue was. I was and still am coming clean about this. I have too. My future depends on it. Not to mention, MY CLOSURE! It was not my intention to involved them. I will remember the good times as well as the bad times we had. The problem that I have, and that is with most gay men. Actually, people in general. Is how hypocritical they can be. Especially, when it comes to their home life and their sex life.








Well as anyone can see. I have had my problems with people. We must choose our own battles. With this one. I knew they wanted me to lose. I needed this. To say I tried to do something about it. I will not let anyone get in the way of that. The couple wanted to move to florida but I was in the way of that. Not to mention, that I was doing my therpy on camera. The screaming and yelling. Werid, I know. They did not like this. There reputations were on the line as well. One of them like egging me on. Trying to get me to react. We all got into a altercation. Our religious friend thought he knew better.








Well I did go after him. This was not the first time we had fights but to talk about all of them would be petty. After he ran off and his lover tried holding and pinning me to the ground. I did the next best thing. It was time to show them for who they were too. I ran down stairs with my netbook. To there dungeon / playroom and LOCKED myself inside. One of them was trying to get inside. Crying, the police were called. He kept pulling at the door. I took a hammer and kept wacking at his fingers. Just barely but intentionally missing them. I knew being arrested, in there was the best way to go. I'm pretty forward with my sexuality. which makes some people uncomfortable. I understand that. I do not care what people do behind close doors. But there was more of an intention to get rid of me. So I had to play this card. I hated to do it but the "REAL" reason why is.









I WAS AT THERE RESIDENCE THE WEEKEND BEFORE I FLIPPED OUT AND BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF CLIFF MULKEY. Yes, the place I was at for almost 5 years. Living as some disturb houseboi / houseman. The one lover hardcore crystal meth user. Harder, then I. Not to mention. "I" had smoked crystal meth that weekend with him as well. The day I beat up Cliff, I wasn't tweeking hard either. I just had in my system. I spent the day just hanging with him coming down. I had replenished myself with food and water. To be honest with anyone. I partied once or twice a month. I have no suppliers nor dealers. Nor any money to do so. I mean, I went to probation as well. Which you have to take drug tests. That should say something right there. The thing is "I" put the pipe to my lips and had it in my system. I knew that the drug was not the problem. There was no addiction. I just wish people could understand that better.









My issue, is when people cast the stones at glass houses. Yet think there is not going to be any repercussions. The worst of it, people don't agknowledge nor take accountablity for there part but place labels as they are so much better. Anyway, I was arrested down stairs and the two female officers saw the playroom / dungeon area. I was taken into the cop car. This time not taken down emotional. Or mentally. I was booked, and put into jail. A temp restraining order was issued on me. I ended up spending that weekend. In the, "Queen City" jail. (Plainfield is called the Queen City. Cute, huh?) I was wrong again for what I did. Did I throw a jar at him. No I did not. Did I bite someone. Yes, I did. Cause somwone was holding me down. Was it a mess? Yes, in deed. I was going to county again, but instead I faced a judge in Municipal Court. Alone, once again with no one by my side. The officer was suppose to be pressing chrages. Instead of the, "victims". GEE, I WONDER WHY? Instead, I got out on a ROR. Thank you, Judge!








http://criminal.findlaw.com/crimes/criminal_stages/stages-booking-bail/own-recognizance.html







When a criminal suspect is arrested, booked, and granted "own recognizance" release, no bail money needs to be paid to the court, and no bond is posted. The suspect is merely released after promising, in writing, to appear in court for all upcoming proceedings. Most state criminal courts impose certain conditions on own recognizance release, prohibiting the suspect from leaving the area while proceedings are ongoing, or requiring that the suspect contact the court periodically while the case is ongoing.

As with setting bail, when deciding whether to grant own recognizance release a criminal court judge considers:
•The seriousness of the crime;
•The suspect's criminal record;
•The danger that the suspect's release might pose to the community; and
•The suspect's ties to family, community, and employment.

If a suspect who has been released on "own recognizance" fails to appear in criminal court as scheduled, he or she is subject to immediate arrest, and any chance for bail release is all but eliminated.




To pick ones battles. ( Shaking head. ) You have to think for yourself and what is most important. Preception is a very tricky thing. To see what is right in front of you but to know what is around you. You can have all the schooling in the world and yet be dumb founded to common sense. I'm not saying that I am a brain but we all as people, know where are expertise is. Go threw something so many times. You sort of become a expert. I believe Freud said something like this. Man keeps what he desires most closes to him. I know love was there. What kind, well that is up to the person, group, or couple. Even with families. It's the same thing, if not it comes close to it. (Not talking about the sex here!) It's just how to label that love and to see if I was I beneficial. Many sacrfices were made on my part and anyone else that was apart of my life. There comes a time where you have to be like Kim Cattrall aka Samantha Jones. For all those Sex in the City lovers. Keeping this quirky qoute in mind. " I Love You, BUT I LOVE ME MORE!









On 07/08/2011, which would be five years to the day. I will be thinking how far I came. What I had to go through. Catherine Pulsifer once said. “Our anniversary is a time to look back at the good times and a time to look ahead to live our dreams together.” Well, not to be dissing Catherine but I think you need to look at both the bad and the good times. Then debate if there can ever be a togetherness, or should you just think for yourself and move forward for your Indenpandance. I have to say one thing, to this man named Cliff.




HAPPY FUCKING ANNIVERSARY, ASSHOLE!







Hate
by Carl Sandburg





ONE man killed another. The saying between them had been “I’d give you the shirt off my back.”

The killer wept over the dead. The dead if he looks back knows the killer was sorry. It was a shot in one second of hate out of ten years of love.

Why is the sun a red ball in the six o’clock mist?
Why is the moon a tumbling chimney?… tumbling … tumbling … “I’d give you the shirt off my back” … And I’ll kill you if my head goes wrong.

Incident report / Discovery Part One / Small Entry

There are many versions to this small drama. This has gotten out of control. My story will always be on debate. I also understand this. I don't blame this incident on anyone but myself. I broke the law. Simple as that. I can tell my version over an over again. But what's use. I will let the paperwork speak for itself. There was so much going on for anyone involved, that obtaining infomation was almost impossible. I say this to anyone who wants to listen. Please take this as knowledge. I said this before. If I'm the actor in this situation, why am I suffering the victims side of PTSD.





There are 45 pages of this report. ( DOWN BELOW ) I am not going after the police department. THEY DID THERE JOB! Pointing out mistakes. Saying that the officers were in the wrong. Would be petty. It's bullshit. What I want to say, is stupid shit like my name being forged. Well, it's dumb little things, like that. In which spiteful people would take advantage of. John Halm and Cliff Mulkey made the police department look like assholes after they took his side. In my opinion.




With that said and I will repeat again. THE PAPERWORK SPEAKS FOR ITSELF! I could go on how it really was. But why? If this is an open and shut case. Don't you think they would have pressed charges. The Howell Incident is on the paper work too. Which was brought to the judges attention. Don't you think if anyone, dug a bit deeper. My ADOPTION would have came to light! There is a lot of sayings back and forth, questions which I could see why someone would get lost. I mean, really! I had a FUCKING MENTAL BRAKEDOWN, AGAIN!




This is a short entry for today. No comments or qoutes. No bitching or complaining. I'm just pointing here, right now. looking at that picture. A great Drivers License photo. Right. Have to own it! I was ready for the mental ward! Kicking, Screaming, and handcuffed to a fucking hospital bed all night. 10 fun filled hours of screams. Being video taped. Ripping out my hair, and well... etc. But that would be another blog. Hospital Records. Vol. Three!

Slap on the wrist and it's "AFTERMATH"

"There are crimes of passion and crimes of logic. The boundary between them is not clearly defined."
— Albert Camus


SOCIETY PUNISHES EX-CONVICTS FOR LIFE

America punishes its criminals harshly. Beyond rapidly rising rates of
imprisonment, offenders leave jail or prison only to be subjected to a
variety of continuing restrictions, some lasting for life.

In certain cases these restrictions reflect reasonable concerns. Who,
for example, would argue that convicted child molesters should be
allowed to work in schools or day-care centers?

But many other restrictions on ex-offenders seem aimed more at
extending punishment than serving society. Take the Higher Education
Act of 1998, which bars ex-felons from eligibility for Pell Grants,
the largest type of federal student loans.

How can ex-offenders build better lives for themselves if they are not
allowed to compete for the same kinds of educational opportunities as
everyone else?

Many of the legal barriers that extend beyond the completion of a
prison sentence were adopted by Congress or state governments as part
of the "war" on crime and drugs. These include restrictions on
occupational licensing that prevent work in many types of jobs; access
to public housing and other types of social programs aimed at the
poorest Americans, and a variety of political rights (such as the
right to vote, to serve on juries and to hold public office).

The unintended consequence of these policies can be to promote the
very circumstances that led to crime in the first place.

In fact, with a growing majority of states now making a criminal
record public information, ex-offenders are effectively being branded
for life. Much of this information is easily accessible through the
Internet or from a number of private services.

Politicians point to the cases of murderers, terrorists and serial
rapists as the frightening menace that such laws and the profusion of
information about offenders protect us from. Yet such violent
offenders account for only a tiny fraction of the people being
released from prison each year. The majority are non-violent
offenders, many convicted for the first time.

Crime policy in recent decades has emphasized harsh punishment over
rehabilitation, and the problems of prisoner re-entry have become
increasingly difficult to ignore.

The sheer number of Americans ending up in prison is
staggering.

Last year alone, more than 600,000 Americans were released from
prison. More than 14 million Americans now carry a felony conviction
on their records.

The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world, 6
to 10 times higher than that of most European countries. This
remarkable number of prisoners has led to growing bipartisan concerns
about how to help former offenders reintegrate into their
communities.

Even "tough on crime" President Bush included in his most recent State
of the Union address a surprising proposal to help ex-inmates. Dubbed
the Prisoner Re-Entry Initiative, Bush proposed to spend $300 million
over four years to help returning inmates find stable jobs and housing.

"If they can't find work, or a home, or help, they are much more
likely to commit crime and return to prison," Bush said.

The president is on the right track. Developing a more-successful
re-entry program would benefit prisoners and their families as well as
increasing public safety. Expanding job training and placement
assistance, providing help with transitional housing, and support for
counseling services would all help make reintegration much easier and
reduce the impetus to return to crime.

But the president's proposal does not go nearly far enough.

Helping ex-inmates find jobs, reconnect with their families and become
full citizens requires changes in the laws that prevent them from
achieving such goals.

Hundreds of jobs become off-limits to ex-offenders due to bonding or
licensure requirements. In many states, for example, a felony
conviction prohibits barbers, social workers, optometrists and even
car sellers from practicing their trade. Some of the largest sources
of stable employment, including the medical industry and the public
sector, impose extensive restrictions on people with criminal records.

If the goal is to move offenders from criminal activity to legitimate
employment, the proliferation of occupational restrictions serves the
wrong purpose.

Aside from the problems of finding steady work, ex-offenders face
serious challenges in securing stable housing. According to federal
housing policies, all public-housing authorities, Section 8 providers
and federally assisted housing programs are permitted or required to
deny housing to people with criminal convictions.

Private housing isn't much easier. In addition to the problem convicts
have accumulating a down payment or security deposit, many landlords
require references and criminal-history information from prospective
tenants.

For custodial parents who are sentenced to prison, loss of parental
rights becomes an increasingly common form of punishment. Two-thirds
of incarcerated women and more than half of incarcerated men are the
parents of children younger than 18. These numbers translate into more
than 1.5 million children with a parent behind bars.

Family reunification upon release is by no means guaranteed. The 1997
Adoption and Safe Families Act, for example, mandates termination of
parental rights for children who spend 15 months or more in foster
care. With average time served standing at more than 18 months, the
threat of permanent family dissolution is very real. Research has
shown foster care to be associated with a high risk of juvenile
delinquency and criminal activity, so our "protective" policies may
themselves be contributing to the next generation of offenders.

Even more alarming, people convicted of public-order offenses, drug
crimes and petty theft are thrown in with the most serious criminals
in the growing pool of ex-prisoners. In some cases the least serious
offenders are the worst off. Special provisions enacted as part of the
war on drugs impose restrictions on drug offenders that apply to no
other class of criminals. Certain restrictions on cash assistance and
food stamps, public-housing eligibility and student loans are targeted
at drug offenders.

Finally, millions of ex-offenders are also denied the most basic right
of citizenship in a democratic society: the right to vote. While we
expect ex-offenders to abide by the law, most states prevent those out
on probation or parole from voting, and 14 states prevent some or all
ex-offenders from voting for life. These restrictions are ironic
considering that almost all ex-offenders are citizens, and the Supreme
Court has repeatedly ruled that no one can be stripped of citizenship
because of a criminal offense.

Given the overwhelming problems that ex-offenders face, it is no
surprise that recidivism rates (that is, the likelihood of committing
further crimes) are so high. The costs for society, both financially
and in terms of public safety, are enormous.



http://www.prisontalk.com/forums/showthread.php?t=55179



I do not have much to say today, I think the article explains alot. This is just to show some insight. What I have been fighting, and facing. This blog is my outlet. Can this be fixed? I do not know, but this is what I am leaving behind. Some sort of Low Rent Legacy. It's better then nothing!

THRASHING JUSTIFICATION AND "FUCKING" COMPOSURE / Medical Records Volume Two

What I had to say so far, most would see it as poor taste. If I was just an on looker, I would have to agree. Judging the same way. The fortitude that has gone into this blog is absurd. Just a glance, most would think this is someone wailing out, saying I was abuse. Fuck that! I have a hard time with people who use crutchs. Example, I don't mind people who use. To each there own. Go right ahead, as long as it consensual and its adult. My issue, is when people have the luxurys to get out of there own addictions. Yet, they do it over and over again. Then give everyone a lame explanation.





You ever see those programs, where you see a reform drug addict on TV. Blaming the substance. "I had the white picket fence, the three story house, the BMW, two kids, a husband and a dog and I lost it to my addiction. "BULLSHIT!" You lost everything because you believed in a lie. Your husband loves being fisted by other men, your kids molesting each other or by the fucking mail man. One is pregnant for a third time. Your in fucking debt up to your eye balls and you needed an outlet from life. So you over indulged in your substance. That's why you crashed the damn BMW threw the white picket fence. Threw the three story house, which caused a fire and killed the family fucking dog.





I feel like saying, "You do this because you don't want to deal with reality!" Which I have to say. Life does suck, but come on take some accountability for yourself. When someone reads this whole entire blog, by now a person should know where the hell I am coming from. To be able to step back and see it for what it is. I take burden for what I have done. Of course, I don't see anyone else taking their mature affairs. What the hell was I suppose to think. From what I have been threw, what I have seen. What I have obtain as knowledge. Hello! There were and still are, too many consequences.





I believe what I have to say on here is the best it going to get. Why? I had to step back yet again and reavalute the whole premise. Going threw all this crap. The Courts. The Anger management. The chaos of the state of New Jersey. Threw hospitals, and doctors. Embracing the Emotional and Psychological Trauma. For almost 4 years, I have been screaming on top of my lungs, at a camera on my netbook. Recording myself. Using this as an outlet. As my own self help therapy. So anyone who says, that it didn't work, fuck them. I said, in the old blog. The worst is yet to come. Cause I knew this was going to happen. Any person with logical common sense could predict this. I have done this before . A way of coping. I knew I would have to do this by myself. With little or no support. Face up and go threw my repression. Yet again. Knowing that there was a discernment for others spiteful intentions.






There are many situations I can divulge, the peices of dirty laundry. These are just a few aspects of what I am babbling about. I don't think sharing all my life problems, is the answer. This is not a fucking auto biography. I just want the reader to get the notion. I am just like anyone else who was forced to live in someone else's shadow. It works for some and others it does not. I had to fake it for a long time. Now looking back at it, I'm glad I took this road. I did have alot to learn. I was naive and some what simple minded. I fell down so many times. By my own hands and others. From those failures and those lessons. I did learn what the true definiton of respect and what it really meant. Also, why that these three people. Didn't not obtain that from me. The over all lesson here is. You have to keep perceived obligations and issues on good terms, no matter how small it is.






Long ago I blogged, " Your secerts are yours and mine to keep, until you fuck me over. Then our secerts become everyones else's business!" I have heard these three, banter the ten thousand and one excuses. I have never seen one of them try to fix the many problems. These three talk their game and their smack, saying whatever they wanted. Thinking they could just walk away from the problems. They had there chance in a damn court room and yet never fucking press chrages! They chicken out when it came to being an adult and taking the responablity for there own actions. Two going on a verge of a third, (Documented) break downs.





Here I am blaming myself for everything and almost deem the notion of it. To come back from those predicaments and trying to secure and solve this all by myself. To be so precise. Shangela is very accurate. When people talk bad about you, it's because they know that you are in the right. I said that in the last blog. But didn't give them the recognition, at that time. The influence of that line holds power of authority. I want to show how anything can be taken from life, from pop culture. From politic debates, etc. How something so small as a word or a sentence can be used. To help out someone. Even if the person has to take it out of context. I did say this in another blog. But hey, were always acquiring information as people. As I said before, take what you can learn. Embrace it and leave the rest behind. So thanks memebers of Drag race. I am charmed by everything said and done on the show. Also, to Shangela. Please take this as a comp. You are the man and you are the woman!




Individuals will come across these problems and issues in life. This is a fact. I am just denoting what I had to do. To either, get out of it. Or go threw it without much support. To do all of this without an addiction, as well. YES WITHOUT AN ADDICTION. NOT BIG USER HERE, there is a difference. Saying right now by thirty years old. I did considerably good. Yet, still staying true to myself and was able to morph into an entity that is more so adult. This process of mature development, in which domain and era changes. Not to mention and how a person adapts to there atmostphere and what habits they pick up. Should be to no one's surprise. But for me to be so adept to pin point my epoch period. Should say something! So if anyone can do this by themselves, without or with minor connerstone of help. Pat yourself on the back.






So for me to speak this way, to be so blunt. This is satisfactory. Remember, I have been exposed to correctional facilities and mental wards. Been around human beings who have killed for inferior motives. Not the most educated person in the vicinity. I do speak out of life experience though. My life experience. The low rent experience. As I like to call it. Anybody can do the same as well. There are far more abominable issues going on. Cancer, Aids, Etc. I find mounds of people helping with grand issues such like the ones I have stipulated and no one concentrating on the small stuff. Like themselves.





Pick yourself up, find an outlet that you can cope and control. Easier said, then done. I know. Do your means to fight back at reality and to keep your sanity. This what I have to say is volger, and a bit straight forward. I find it's exceptional for someone else to depic this as an example and comprehend from it. Knowing that sometimes assistance from groups and support systems do not always help. That your community will not have the answers, and will not be there. It happens sometimes. That's is not there fault. They are humans as well. You and you alone will have to find new ways of survival. Something like this blog maybe would have prevented many individuals from jumpping off a bridge. Or doing something far more worst. Which we all know has been accomplished by many characters. As malicious as it is to say, it's true. Why am I so equivalent because I came from that kind of product as well.





My way is not the right for everyone. I don't expect anyone to go ahead and beat the shit out of someone. No matter how much I feel the person richly deseverd it. Though to say something like this is better then me being some low primate in a jail cell ready to kill. Also, faking it along the way. ( I will tell that tragic story another time during jail records. ) So if I'm the next Bristol Palin, for gay low rent experience. (SNAP!) Then I am.






I made myself look like an asshole in front a lot of people. Have done a few nude shots with photogarphers. I had no idea what I was doing. This was for me to feel myself out, not to mention to explore my sexuality. It happens in your twentys. Others, thirtys. Depends. Can I be honest. If I was going for strung out two dollar gay hooker. I hit the nail on the head. Also my ridiculous appearance in front of one of the biggest names in the gay porn was pathetic. I will not mention their name either. Don't think they would want associated with something some feeble and inadequate. Just for everyone to know, nothing happen. Professional as hell. But really come on, no one was going to touch me anyway with a twenty inch dildo. ( Laugh please, I am. ) There is an upside though. A commodity, to say the least.





It took me sometime to learn. I don't know if they use the qoute anymore. "Good publicity or bad publicity. It is still all publicity!" To understand concept fully but make it work for myself. Maybe way off the chart here but please follow my logic. These three assholes talked so much game, that I knew it would catch up to them. So if they made a big deal about it now. They will look like hypocrites. Oh shit, wait a minute. They already are. I had accept the negative feed back and those labels. Of course, knowing as well. They would not be able to take all that scrutiny. After awhile, I acknowledge I would sooner or later get to the other side of that spectrum. It was just going to take some time, some sanity, and some maturity.






They also did something that most people did not do. They were an arrogant bastard to my face. That's where I have to give the once over thank you. Safe to say, that porn was not the concept for me at that time, maybe it never will. I do have a baffling appreciation for someone like that and anyone else who comes into play of that after thought. Ha! Being a strong minded man. You gonna have to be. To put up with my crazy shit. Either your fucking mentally deranged or you must really love me. The person must really think I am worth their time. Also, I should conclude the same about them.






At the time, that I was throwing over fourty pills in my mouth, I went numb. I am not just talking about the after effects. Not because of what I have generally done in my past. Or that I was abused since the age of four years old. (wink, rolling eyes.) I wasn't even thinking about that. Everyone had given up on me and I had to review there reasons why. Not to mention why I was giving up on myself. My life bit hard. I was at my wits end. I had a weak moment, which this was not the first. Those who are at that point or feeling that temptation , will know what I am talking about. Anyone who says they never been at this point in there own existance, is lieing. It happens to EVERYONE! It is as normal as taken a shit. Don't let anyone tell you different. Now, let's hit the Roxy story one last time. Which was before my second apartment at country side place, the many photographs, making myself into a total asshole, or embracing majority all those brands as what people have placed upon me.







It's remarkable when a song triggers a memory. It is still displeasing to hear though.( Shiny disco balls. By Who da Funk. On the playlist.) The modest span of my club haydays. I was just a nobody. New Years Eve. This specific holiday, now hold me captive. I get wasted enough so I am ignorant to a count down and the rest of the night. That evening, I had two cheap one dollar drinks in my system which did not have that much of affect. Hollywood, Cliff, and I got to the club early. No one was there. I'd danced on the floor beening my naive self. After awhile, I started to get thirsty and went up to the bar. I wanted a bottle of water. Cliff gave me his instead. Which was already opened. There was my fatal mistake. Most boys and girls at this time period will learn this lesson in there own lives.






Now, I remember mother dearest 2.0's phrase." Never put your drink down or look away. Cause it's never going to be yours!" I was pretty good about it, until that dimday. I know that I'm not the first that this has happen too. Many guys my age have been threw the same. Some delete from there head. Others relive it. The rest even pride themselves on it. I just brush it off. Oh well comes with the turf. If it was anybody else, or even if I knew about it. Then I would gotten over it. Since I was sound about keeping my drinks with me though, and knew it came from his hand delibrately. Not to mention what happen afterwards. I do blame him. Within minutes, I lost track of time, never mind a count down. I was lucky to even stay balanced. The reader by now should be able to guess what happend on that balcony.






The whispered saying, " Welcome to New York! " Is still to this day, on debate by many. My claims and accuations the same. The dizzyness plus throwing up of water onto the dance floor. Also, by the entrance was not my highest point at very packed club. Does anyone get the picture yet. What pissed me off the most is how many times I confronted him on it. I didn't want to make a big deal about it. Afterwards of years of many different excuses. Like the bartender did it. Your being paranoid. You were Drunk! Excuse me! The fucking bartender looks like a dreamy Calvin Klein model. I high doubt that. I am not being paranoid, not to mention I was drunk. Yeah right!






After years of arguements, the many issues that happened afterwards, and the games he played. I'm surprised I didn't fucking kill him in his sleep. I have to say I do have a high tolerance for twisted insanity. Anyone who doesn't agree with me by now. Well gee.. don't be to shocked when you find my young ass with the bitter old queens at the end of the bar. Quoting Ethel Merman. " Here's ten dollars, ... GO FUCK YOURSELF! " The Roxy and those events were never the problem. I did had awesome time there. I was just stuck on an issue I could not comprehend. So please, if your bitch who can relate. Stop yourself and play this song on the playlist by Frankee. Fuck you right back. There some power there. Then continue on.







I am sorry to all of those people who had to hear my late night / early morning screams. It's hard to keep that kind of composure with not much support. Also trying to do your own treatment. For those who are lost, if this is your best way. Please learn from me. Or at least try. Another example of people who might not understand. Is Meridian Health care. Record is down below. It was over in Red Bank. At the time. Right across from the hospital. I was living by myself at countryside place. Cliff had me considering, that I need to get help. I still didn't fully trust my mother and not to mention that phone call with Marlena's cell phone.






I went into Meridian Behavioral Health Clinic, and filled out the forms. Saw this intake worker who was gay. Before I go any futher. To anyone who is about to do the same as I did. Take into consideration, when you go shooting your mouth off. Your going to be label. Be prepared and make sure you don't have any false hopes. I blabbed anything and everything that came to mind. You have to be open minded when it come to this line of work, I know. After the chat, I was told to sit outside in the waiting room. I was about to sit down. When the urge to suddenly piss, hit me. I walked to the front desk. Asked where the restroom was. The receptionist pointed me to the other hallway. Just as I rounded the conner, I saw the same in take worker walk into his Supervisors office. The rest room was a few doors down on the other side of that hallway. The door was a bit open. I just so happen to eavesdrop on what they were saying.








The laughter that came from that office was discouraging enough. Especially, when my name was involved. I pushed myself back, felt that moment of dread. That sinking feeling, that no one can help me now. I didn't have to piss anymore and my walk accelerated. Never returning to that hospital and vowing never to fully trust another medical professional as long as I live. Here is another kicker, a couple of days later. I got call from the intake worker. Saying that he would like me to come to one of his group sessions. Does anyone see the reason why, I didn't return the call. Rousseau and Dorthany Parker once said, This book is not to be tossed lightly aside, but to be hurled with great force. Well here I am, once again! Takening it out of context and making work for me. THIS BLOG IS NOT TO BE TOSSED LIGHTLY ASIDE. BUT TO BE HURLED WITH GREAT FORCE! Now, I leave it up to the reader to decide. Whom it will be metaphoricly be HURLED at?







There were two times in my era that I lived at the countryside place. A low income complex in Howell, New Jersey. Off the long strech of Route 9 and West Farms road. Behind the Home depot. Surrounded by tralier parks and farm land. Five o' clock in the morning you can hear the roasters crow and the birds chirp. Sometimes, before dawn, before work. With a cup of coffee in a cheap green cermaic mug. I'd sit on the cemment and watch the sun rise. With all the crazyness. The insanity. Of life and the many problems and issues. This was where things made sense. Where there was no complexity. Where I could enjoy myself. Be at peace, even for 15 minutes the most. I like to call this. My down time.







The first time I lived at countryside. Was with an ex boyfriend of mine. A vast decade older then me. I was basicly on my own by now. My parents had already left for PA. I still had to finish high school. Some friends did help me cope. Staying at there place. Until the issues subsided. The school borad understood what I was going threw. The white trash gay boy, who's parents left him. Cause of his own problems that he brought upon himself. Cliff did come around at this time, not to say there wasn't bliss but there is a price for such emotions. My ex had anger issues as well, since it was like taking care of a kid. Hell, like. It was. Since I was only a senior with no clue. Who had a mental collapse just a few months ago. Went threw court, etc. Of course, that is no excuse.






The companionship between my ex and I endded badly. Cliff did not break us up. I did. It was out of some gay melodramtic drama. Years later, I did meet my ex yet again. We did get a chance to squash the shit that was between us and put it behind. I would have gotten pissed too. I do hope he is doing well, and to those others that I left it on good or bad terms but we have reconciled. Thank you. For the many precious times and those few atrocious periods. To say you have to pick your own battles, is yet understatement but which ones to hold a grudge too. Is another. You 'll see what I mean.







The second time, I was at country side place. I lived in a small studio apt. Cliff and I had made our split and I did have somewhat contact with my mother. I already caught Cliff and Hollywood with the many excuses of fooling around with each other and other men. Not to mention the Roxy thing already happened. How I caught him was way simple. When I was living with him at the habour club. I went into his closet to get a shirt for work. One of his shirts in the way back of the of the closet started crinkled and crunched. It was coming from his shirt pocket. Grabbing it, I found 14 condoms.







Que in the dramatics. I did call my mother at the time. I ask for advice. We were somewhat on speaking terms. Then I came to the small plan of putting them back. Now there wouldn't such a problem, if he didn't have a shower bag full of over 30 or so condoms in his bathroom. There was no reason to hide the shirt, unless he was being dishonest. So to make a long story short. I went to work. Working for a company called Charlotte Russe. I made a call over to Cliff on my lunch break and Hollywood was over. The next day, Cliff went to work. I went into his closet, and pullled out the shirt. 11 condoms left.







Like any relationship, any person knows it's going to have it issues. But these, are where problems lie. The roxy story happened. Cliff is talking his game. Saying his many white trash phrases. Hollywood aka John Halm is manipulating the issue. Let alone, Cliff as well. Fucking codeine and cough syrup sociopath. Mother dearest 2.0 is still spiteful and trying to get back at me. Using my ssn number and talking her game as well. Everyone is being dishonest and pushing me to believe that I'm paraniod. Saying I'm the trouble maker, I'm insane, working on my insecuritys and I'm letting them. The bullshit had to stop somewhere. So when I write this shit. To those three, remember. What I have to say are just labels and words. IT WON'T FUCKING HURT YOU!






Anyway, I think the readers would also want to know why I have such a profound respect for prostitutes. Maybe it's because I did the same kind of work just for a few months. Another excuse for Cliff, Hollywood, and my mother to use against me. Here is the reason why it will not work. I was with Cliff before I started to do what he like to call, Hookering it! Mother dearest 2.0 already used my ssn number, and it's already stated and proved as a fact on my credit report. Picture down below.





How I got into it was pretty simple. My last job I was let go from. To say the least not the smartest lad of the bunch. I would see why they would push me out. I had bills to pay. I answer an ad in the newspaper for a driver. Surprise, it was for an escort business. This was around the early spring. The money was and easy. The only thing I had to do, was sit back and wait for the girl. If there was a sign of trouble, we had a code. she get out of there and we take off. I get small percentage, the girl would get her cut, and the pimp would get his.






One night, I got call from the pimp. ( Can I say this pimp was goodlooking, not model wise. But very good looking. ) He mention that he has a client who wants a guy. I asked him why didn't he do it himself. " He wants younger, you interested? ". I thought about it for a minute, the rent is due in a few days. Not to mention I was jobless. So fuck it. I told the pimp, which now he became my pimp. "I'll be ready in a hour!" I'm not going to go to much of what happened that evening or what I had to do. To say that it was degrating. Is bullshit. There was nothing degrading about it. Did I like it? Lets just say, I go back and forth. I can owned up to it with a chuckle. I still did the driver thing for a couple more weeks and a client here and there. Then I did something which made everything awkward. I slept with my good looking pimp. Let's just say, my inexperienece surrpasted me. Yet his did too. Afterwards, I debated about my placement in his company. It endded there.






By then, I started pimping myself out, now having no work what so ever. Oh I was ever so fucking clever. ( Sarcasm here. ) I would be more like a massage therapist. To be honest, let's drop the massage part. In calls and out calls. My little low rent ways did place some good looking clients to which I even had to ask myself, "Why are you even paying me?" I should be paying them. Some of the men that walked threw my doorway. Oh my lord if he exists. I had a nice small income as well. Leanred something too. They all need an outlet. Just for that hour. They needed to get away from the hysteria of the reality. From the world that they created. Hard to believe, for some yes. Others, no. You have to put yourself in that situation, to comprehend. Some of the stories I have heard were heart breaking. Others just pityful excuses. The whole idea about it, they all had there problems and felt they were at fault. Wether if they were or weren't. Their drug addict partner, doesn't give them that pleasure anymore. They are separated. Being around them makes them depressed and they tried working on it for years. They have different expections about money. Not just sexually, but mental and emotional too.





Cliff by now knew about what I was doing and lets just say the car problems started to happen again. So this is where abouts things stared to make a turn, and now I was fighting again. Struggling, money finally stopped. Cliff stared to appear more so, mother dearest and her daughters phone call. That's when I came to that conclusion. That one night, thinking about that phone call. The roxy story. The lies. The cars. The problems my mother put me threw. The ssn being used. Etc. Etc. Etc. Not to mention where I was at in life. See the patterns, see what I am talking about. For somweone to say I don't know people. Is bullshit! In my small era, I have gone threw my fair share of shit. The last point in my life at countryside, sitting at a cheap Ikea table. This is where the plan was kicked into effect. The book was born, even as an idea.








We all have defining moments in our lives. Those turning points. Sometimes, it's right in a court room. Others, when we wake up from a nightmare. Even when it's on the brink of death. I remember I said to someone. Death is the inevitable. I hope that person figured the rest out like I had too when he pasted a comment to me. "So live it for what it is!" Stupid but true. I think this moment was mine. To turn the tables and make them eat there words. No matter what the cost was. So to say this is done in poor taste. I don't think so. I would rather be a Chemically induced drug mule in the most low rent revolting gay snuff film. Then go back to these three assholes. It is very well, extreme. But here is the reason I say this. There is nothing like freewill and being knowledgeable, and knowing where you come from. At least. Now, I know why. Compared to being with those three. Who kept me in the dark about everything. Who have denied me, from who I am. Not to mention, manipulating me into something that was not true from the get go. What I had to indure to find out the truth myself and to be overall right. PLEASE! ( Snap! ) It's the fucking principle of this matter that pisses me off. So why the hell, should I let it go.






So, I might have a askew preception on sex industry, drugs, people, therapy, life etc. Hey, at least I have an improved appreciatation, then most. We can say a lot didn't work out for me but it makse me a bit more confidant in myself. To at least struggle to live to the next day. Which I am proud to amitt that. Also, this will help with the next partner if there maybe one. Cause he might feel those overall emotions but at least he knows what he's is getting into. Also, I conclude he will know just like anyone else who crosses my path. Why am I so guarded and I believe such a statement holds so much truth. No man is ever a man complete without his bitch! Meaning, you are nothing without your fucking partner. Period!