James V. Smith, JR. Author of, "You Can Write A Novel". Implicate in his book, cardinal rule number three. Begin the end in mind. It's gay agknowledging that notion. Since I always did that for some unknown reason. Maybe it was schooling. Anyway, after putting away. Directional and Delusion Aspects. The purpose was to come back to it. Not just to show a difference. Or if there was any, but more so the process of coming to terms. I wanted to ajoin both Directional and Delusion Aspects and Low Rent Sabbatical together. Not saying this was going to happen but it was a general concept. Beginning with the sentence, "Is it worth it?"
There were jokes in my blog. But the nature of it's content was taken very literary . No one knew what to do or think. Not to mention, no knew me for who I was. My personality. Also, I did sound a little. What is the word I am looking for here? Oh yes, INSANE! The comments I got from people were. A complex person. Or very misunderstood. With a childish essence, or outlook. I could blame this on myself. Of course, no one wanted to take the time out to understand. Which is all to common with people. They had there own problems or issues to worry about. To self involved to even bother.
To describe me a bit, if you haven't gotten the jist already! By reading this blog. I use humor to deflect any given tragedy. My sarcastic character can be seen on my wish list provied on this profile. Even though, the low self esteem jokes about myself seem a bit distasteful. It's the only way I knew how to process tragedy. Not to mention, I feel that if I agknowledge it. That no one can use it againt me, because it's already known. I have already beaten them to it.
Examples, I always use to say. "I am half hispanic and half white trash. Destined to be low income for the rest of my life!" Now with all the knowledge that I have. I can't even say that joke anymore. I don't know who my real father is. Not to mention, what his genetics are. Or if there is any living relatives, like a twin brother or half brother. I will chat more about that subject matter later. So, to be honest, maybe it's a good thing. I don't tell that joke.
Another dispicable joke, which a lot of people could not believe that this came out of my mouth. Was the, "All I ever wanted in life" antic. Now, this one always put anyone in awarkward place. But first, lets give credit to where it's due. Remember the movie. Josh Whedons, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." The one with Luke Perry and Kristy Swanson. Remember the scene where she points out what she want's in life. Well, that where I got that joke from. "All I ever wanted in life. Was to write a book, go see Italy, Marry my retired gay porn star boyfriend, Have three houseboi's, two cats, a dog and DIE! Now you might not think that is so great but I think it's perfect. I mean at least the sex would be decent!
The point of that joke was to show how low my expectations were. Not how high, if there were any high expections there. Not to mention. I did have a low rent version of a porn star boyfriend. Also does the web cam model count too? Hell, looking back at my life. I realized that I should have set my goals just a bit higher. I should have went for a Treasure Island Media model instead. Joking here!!! No offence to anyone either in T.I.M. or the company. I mean really it's not like I was setting my sites higher then what they were suppose to be. Like a lawyer or a doctor. Anyway, the point of the joke has made clear.
There are only three true intentions that I really want to come out of all this. Number three, to point out that I'm not trying to milk this cry baby story for money. If any money ever came my way for this idea. I would want it all to go to charity. Any charity, that is at least gay affiliated. Now, there is sub reasoning behind that. Just in case. Since I know how these people really are. If anyone sewed, the money would be already gone. I would rather stay in welfare hell. Then let anyone get it, especially those who contributed to my downfalling. At least with a charity, it will go to someone else who can benefit from it.
Number two, influence. For anyone who wants to listen or learn from it. Or not. The point is that in one way or another, the person who even reads a few sentences. Will be influenced. Wether they choose to believe it or not.
The number one reason and it is a bit selfish. Is for myself. To be able to open a book or open a web site. Look at the dedication page, and be able to read. "This is for myself. For once, you finally did something right! In your whole fucked up life!" This is not my way of turning my shit into gold. It's my way of just turning my shit into bronze.
So I will repeat it one more time, "Is it really worth it?" Well, by the time that I start from the beginning, and go threw some aspects in a way of Chronological order. At least I hope, it will make more sense. To place doubt and to show a pattern that I can only see. Also, anyone who reads this will have the endding already in mind. "WAS IT REALLY WORTH IT?"
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
DREAMS. YOU DECIDE WHAT THEY MEAN.
To wander off or away from the topic is something I should do once in awhile. To show what's in my head and what on my unconscious mind. Since I been around only a certain type of intellect. I can tell you how certain people like to play deceptive practices. But to say the least, that is part of the human condition. To get others to amitt things. Or how they play these games to get others to change there ways. For there own favors or benefits. Well here is one instances. Why we don't play with other people's heads. In a nut shell, it's turns back on them. Or it back fires.
As for this blog, if I tell everything at once. Say what's on top of my head. It will comsume me. So I figured. If I write a rough copy of what the topic is and then come back to it a week or two later. It would refrain me from looking like a total mess. Oh, too late! I tired not to look into the meanings of these dreams. Or to go to much in depth. But these dreams do have to do with my subconscious mind. So someone who knows me very well, could try but I have to say. "GOOD LUCK! YOUR GOING TO NEED IT!".
So I will disclose four of mental pictures. Anyone can comment on them if they desire. The first vision that adhere. Is one, that has to do when I was back in High school. My last year after my family abandon me. It was a couple of months before I graduated. I was in a class room staring at a book that laid on the desk in front of me. The class room was empty and there was nothing on the blackboard. The lights were on and the windows had blinds covering them.
The book that laided in front of me was thick and laden. The title of this hard covered copy. This light brown novel. Was, "My Future". In gold lettering. I opened the book and the pages were pure white. All of them. Nothing was written on them. They were just blank white pages. The novel was unwritten.
After the "Class of 2001", Graduated. I had the same dream again. This time when I opened the book, the pages were black. Pitch black, almost surreal. When I awoke from this dream. I knew that my future life was going to be very lurid. No matter how optimistic people were. Even if there were content times depending on the prespective. I knew, I was only lieing to myself. Like most humans do. If not all. Not saying I was doomed, but there were going to be a lot of nebulous times. That the extent in the past. That was so pure white. Were over now.
Now please, cast no bullshit compassion for that dream. That was long ago, not to mention a time when I was naive. No benevolence. Or forbearance. This next dream was around a half a year ago. A darken room with black sheets. I was on my hands and knees. Focusing at a intense gray cement wall. Completely stark naked, looking like something out a dark gay porn. No offence to gay porn. Just that how the dream was. Anyway,I felt someone loom over me and cup my balls. Rubbing them gently. As if someone would rub there pets head, who was starving attention. The hairs on my body stood up with pleasure and sudden fear.
Curiosity plauged my head, as his hands ran up my back, to my neck. It was gentle and slow, then with one swift motion. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked it back. My whole body swung to a falling motion . With a small yelp. I fell to the cement floor, hard. Collapsing right onto my face. It knocked the wind out of me. Tears fell from my eyes and my body laid paralized.
The darken figure loomed over me, and picked up my head with both hands. Blood started to pour from my broken nose. Spilling all over the floor and running down my face. Starting to sob the figured let my head go as it hit the floor once again with a "thud"! "Now stay there!" he griped. He walked over me. His foot steps made the room echoed.
A few minutes later, after some loud shuffeling and laughing. He came back, with something. The man set something right in front of me. As he stepped over me. My naked body started to shake more so then before. Almost to a point of trembling. I felt the man sit on my back and then pull my head up, once again. What I could make out. Besides the puddle of blood leaking all over. Dripping into a puddle I was lying at. Was a camcorder. It was on, I could see the red light blinking. Pulling my head back more so, the man whispered something into my ear. "Now, let everyone see!"
Maybe I should stop watching horror films for awhile! LOL. The next one is something a little less sinister. I'm in a white room, NOT PADDED! Sitiing on a white hospital bed. The lighting is bright, but I could see a door at one end of the room. With a gold knob. It was on my left hand side. Above the door was a loud speaker. I walked over to the door and tried it. Locked.
Turning back, I saw a two way mirror above the bed. Knowing there was someone behind that mirror. I walked up to it quickly. Not even, looking at my own reflection. I paided no attention to that. Odd don't you think? You would ponder. I would at least be a bit conceded in my dreams. That's when I heard them from the loud speaker. The voices, very quite. Whispers. Almost too faint to hear.
" Crazy, Psycho!" a voice whispered. Sounded like a male. Or was it a female?
"Crack, fucking tard!" A female voice said something. "Crack Already!" The voices on the speaker grew louder and louder. A buzzing from the speaker, grew too. They were doing it intentionality. So I would have to hear them. Covering my ears, I backed away from the mirror. To the middle of the white room, curling into a ball.
Over and over again. "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!"."Crazy, Psycho, CRACK!". It was almost turning into a chant. "Why wouldn't he break?". A female voice asked. " Don't worry about it, he'll break soon. He can't hold on much longer!". A male voice said with pride. "Keep it up, he'll break!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, CRACK!".
My knees started to shake, and then I finally let go. A loud rageful scream. The chanting stopped and the only thing I could hear was the loud buzzing from the speaker from above the doorway. The door opened a bit, and I could see darken figures whispering to each other. Male and females. "Did it work?" A female asked. I knew who these people were now. People from my past, ex - friends and family.The ones who betrayed me so long ago. "Did he break?"
That's when I turned and faced the door. Smiling to them and shot up my middle finger. With a sly smile, I said a loud. " WAS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?". I stood up and walked back to the bed and sat on it. Facing the doorway. Everyone was sticking there middle finger back at me, and I took both hands and did the same thing back to them. Only with more attitude.
This last dream was pretty resent. This was before I found out I was adopted but who would be able to tell away. Since it's my dream. In this one, I was in a car with some people and we went to this road house gay club out in the middle of nowhere. The parking lot was packed with cars and the music loud as hell too. The people in the car pushed me inside this club so fast I didn't even get the time to ask where we were.
They grabbed my jacket, my wallet, and cell phone. I was washed over by the sea of people on the dance floor and then I fell. To the dirty dismal ground. There was no one around. I looked at the clock which read 4:30am and ran outside. The parking lot was bare and I saw nothing. Just darken hills and pale moon light. Going back inside I sat down across from two drunking drag queens. One looked like a low rent version of Lady Bunny.
"Oh, he's so cute!" One of them said aloud as she dropped the empty cup. The other looked at me, checked me and then said. "Oh, NO HONEY! You do not want that one, he's got ISSUES! It's the reason why his freinds and family left him here. He's getting to close to the truth!" then they staggard away. I had no keys, no jacket, no phone, and no wallet. As the clubs lights cut off and left me in darkness.
Now after this sabbitical, after all the documentation. After all this bitching and complaining. I'm left with complexity. To do something about it, but it may seem resentful and spiteful. Like I'm getting back at these certain people. Let's face it. There is no higher road! Believe me, I have tired to find it. It's a illusion. We all get back each other somehow, in some way. The only thing I would want is to show the same common courtesy as those people showed me. Then after that I would never think of them again. But they can take every second of there fucking lives thinking about me. Until there existence comes to an end.
My life as I know it was all about people wanting to play mind games with my head. Not mention to have power and control. Threw manipulation. Well there is only one way to end this, take the fucking power back. There were so many rumors, half truths, and lies. Of course, no one was able to show a bit of Evidence what so ever. I had to throw myself back into the wolves den. Almost losing my sanity and life numberous times. Of course, this was by my own hand. Hoping, it didn't have to come down to this. I do have to blame myself.
But the question that comes to mind is. What am I so worried about? It's been over three years. If anybody wanted to. They could have sued by now. I know how these people think. How spiteful they really are. They would have done it already. They even pasted up the chance many times before. I know, they will not do it. WHY? Cause there "Reputation", is at stake. They wouldn't be able to come back from this. This late in there age. Victims of there own lies and I called there bluff. Cause if they could. They would be as forward as I am. So let's start again. Only this time, let's add some reasonable doubt. It's all down at the bottom of this blog people. And I will be adding more and more. Every time that I write a blog.
As for this blog, if I tell everything at once. Say what's on top of my head. It will comsume me. So I figured. If I write a rough copy of what the topic is and then come back to it a week or two later. It would refrain me from looking like a total mess. Oh, too late! I tired not to look into the meanings of these dreams. Or to go to much in depth. But these dreams do have to do with my subconscious mind. So someone who knows me very well, could try but I have to say. "GOOD LUCK! YOUR GOING TO NEED IT!".
So I will disclose four of mental pictures. Anyone can comment on them if they desire. The first vision that adhere. Is one, that has to do when I was back in High school. My last year after my family abandon me. It was a couple of months before I graduated. I was in a class room staring at a book that laid on the desk in front of me. The class room was empty and there was nothing on the blackboard. The lights were on and the windows had blinds covering them.
The book that laided in front of me was thick and laden. The title of this hard covered copy. This light brown novel. Was, "My Future". In gold lettering. I opened the book and the pages were pure white. All of them. Nothing was written on them. They were just blank white pages. The novel was unwritten.
After the "Class of 2001", Graduated. I had the same dream again. This time when I opened the book, the pages were black. Pitch black, almost surreal. When I awoke from this dream. I knew that my future life was going to be very lurid. No matter how optimistic people were. Even if there were content times depending on the prespective. I knew, I was only lieing to myself. Like most humans do. If not all. Not saying I was doomed, but there were going to be a lot of nebulous times. That the extent in the past. That was so pure white. Were over now.
Now please, cast no bullshit compassion for that dream. That was long ago, not to mention a time when I was naive. No benevolence. Or forbearance. This next dream was around a half a year ago. A darken room with black sheets. I was on my hands and knees. Focusing at a intense gray cement wall. Completely stark naked, looking like something out a dark gay porn. No offence to gay porn. Just that how the dream was. Anyway,I felt someone loom over me and cup my balls. Rubbing them gently. As if someone would rub there pets head, who was starving attention. The hairs on my body stood up with pleasure and sudden fear.
Curiosity plauged my head, as his hands ran up my back, to my neck. It was gentle and slow, then with one swift motion. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked it back. My whole body swung to a falling motion . With a small yelp. I fell to the cement floor, hard. Collapsing right onto my face. It knocked the wind out of me. Tears fell from my eyes and my body laid paralized.
The darken figure loomed over me, and picked up my head with both hands. Blood started to pour from my broken nose. Spilling all over the floor and running down my face. Starting to sob the figured let my head go as it hit the floor once again with a "thud"! "Now stay there!" he griped. He walked over me. His foot steps made the room echoed.
A few minutes later, after some loud shuffeling and laughing. He came back, with something. The man set something right in front of me. As he stepped over me. My naked body started to shake more so then before. Almost to a point of trembling. I felt the man sit on my back and then pull my head up, once again. What I could make out. Besides the puddle of blood leaking all over. Dripping into a puddle I was lying at. Was a camcorder. It was on, I could see the red light blinking. Pulling my head back more so, the man whispered something into my ear. "Now, let everyone see!"
Maybe I should stop watching horror films for awhile! LOL. The next one is something a little less sinister. I'm in a white room, NOT PADDED! Sitiing on a white hospital bed. The lighting is bright, but I could see a door at one end of the room. With a gold knob. It was on my left hand side. Above the door was a loud speaker. I walked over to the door and tried it. Locked.
Turning back, I saw a two way mirror above the bed. Knowing there was someone behind that mirror. I walked up to it quickly. Not even, looking at my own reflection. I paided no attention to that. Odd don't you think? You would ponder. I would at least be a bit conceded in my dreams. That's when I heard them from the loud speaker. The voices, very quite. Whispers. Almost too faint to hear.
" Crazy, Psycho!" a voice whispered. Sounded like a male. Or was it a female?
"Crack, fucking tard!" A female voice said something. "Crack Already!" The voices on the speaker grew louder and louder. A buzzing from the speaker, grew too. They were doing it intentionality. So I would have to hear them. Covering my ears, I backed away from the mirror. To the middle of the white room, curling into a ball.
Over and over again. "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!"."Crazy, Psycho, CRACK!". It was almost turning into a chant. "Why wouldn't he break?". A female voice asked. " Don't worry about it, he'll break soon. He can't hold on much longer!". A male voice said with pride. "Keep it up, he'll break!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, Crack!". "Crazy, Psycho, CRACK!".
My knees started to shake, and then I finally let go. A loud rageful scream. The chanting stopped and the only thing I could hear was the loud buzzing from the speaker from above the doorway. The door opened a bit, and I could see darken figures whispering to each other. Male and females. "Did it work?" A female asked. I knew who these people were now. People from my past, ex - friends and family.The ones who betrayed me so long ago. "Did he break?"
That's when I turned and faced the door. Smiling to them and shot up my middle finger. With a sly smile, I said a loud. " WAS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?". I stood up and walked back to the bed and sat on it. Facing the doorway. Everyone was sticking there middle finger back at me, and I took both hands and did the same thing back to them. Only with more attitude.
This last dream was pretty resent. This was before I found out I was adopted but who would be able to tell away. Since it's my dream. In this one, I was in a car with some people and we went to this road house gay club out in the middle of nowhere. The parking lot was packed with cars and the music loud as hell too. The people in the car pushed me inside this club so fast I didn't even get the time to ask where we were.
They grabbed my jacket, my wallet, and cell phone. I was washed over by the sea of people on the dance floor and then I fell. To the dirty dismal ground. There was no one around. I looked at the clock which read 4:30am and ran outside. The parking lot was bare and I saw nothing. Just darken hills and pale moon light. Going back inside I sat down across from two drunking drag queens. One looked like a low rent version of Lady Bunny.
"Oh, he's so cute!" One of them said aloud as she dropped the empty cup. The other looked at me, checked me and then said. "Oh, NO HONEY! You do not want that one, he's got ISSUES! It's the reason why his freinds and family left him here. He's getting to close to the truth!" then they staggard away. I had no keys, no jacket, no phone, and no wallet. As the clubs lights cut off and left me in darkness.
Now after this sabbitical, after all the documentation. After all this bitching and complaining. I'm left with complexity. To do something about it, but it may seem resentful and spiteful. Like I'm getting back at these certain people. Let's face it. There is no higher road! Believe me, I have tired to find it. It's a illusion. We all get back each other somehow, in some way. The only thing I would want is to show the same common courtesy as those people showed me. Then after that I would never think of them again. But they can take every second of there fucking lives thinking about me. Until there existence comes to an end.
My life as I know it was all about people wanting to play mind games with my head. Not mention to have power and control. Threw manipulation. Well there is only one way to end this, take the fucking power back. There were so many rumors, half truths, and lies. Of course, no one was able to show a bit of Evidence what so ever. I had to throw myself back into the wolves den. Almost losing my sanity and life numberous times. Of course, this was by my own hand. Hoping, it didn't have to come down to this. I do have to blame myself.
But the question that comes to mind is. What am I so worried about? It's been over three years. If anybody wanted to. They could have sued by now. I know how these people think. How spiteful they really are. They would have done it already. They even pasted up the chance many times before. I know, they will not do it. WHY? Cause there "Reputation", is at stake. They wouldn't be able to come back from this. This late in there age. Victims of there own lies and I called there bluff. Cause if they could. They would be as forward as I am. So let's start again. Only this time, let's add some reasonable doubt. It's all down at the bottom of this blog people. And I will be adding more and more. Every time that I write a blog.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
WAS THIS FATE?
Someone once told me, "That we all have choices to make in our lives!" No offence, but I think they neglected to tell me about the fine print. "The rest is up to fate itself!" Now before anyone judges or criticizes, Let me try to explain what I mean by this. To make it simpler for others to understand. A vocabulary lesson that you might of learned back in grade school.
Fate
1 a.The supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events.
b.The inevitable events predestined by this force.
2.A final result or consequence; an outcome.
3.Unfavorable destiny; doom.
4.Fates Greek & Roman Mythology. The three goddesses, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, who control human destiny. Used with the.
[Middle English, from Old French fat, from from Latin fātum, prophecy, doom, from neuter past participle of fārī, to speak.]
This definition can be found on this web site.
http://www.answers.com/topic/fate
What I think fate is. It's just the final result. An inevitable outcome. From the choices, we have made.Wether they are satisfying or substandard.It's almost like Newton's Third Law of Motion. For every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. I'm not implying there is this mystical power or unseen force. Just rendering, that what choice you make. Will have and end result. Wether you disappove of it or not.So is there any questioning about my Locus of control?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Locus_of_control
There is a reason why, I titled one blog. Repression is a Beautiful thing. Well, it's pretty self explanatory.We as humans do not want to remember the atrocious shit from are past, We all just want to forget and move on. To break this cycle though, and make sure I do not repeat another meltdown. I had to find out the truth. So I can, "Let it go!" as most people tell me.
Besides having faith within myself and a deep complex feeling that plauged me for over three years. I kicked started this sabbatical into high gear the summer of 2010. I have been thinking of doing this for awhile. Ever since, I put down my blog. Completely sober and no parties what so ever. I went back into my past. Not just to kick start repressed memomries but to pull up any paperwork that might prove my damage past and show. I am telling the truth.
A movie qoute comes to my head from Scream three. "The past will come back to bite you in the ass. Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it. The past is not at rest! Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."
http://scream.wikia.com/wiki/Scream_3
On this mind fuck of a journey, I went back to the few places I lived. Where I went to school at. Or where there was trouble.Hospitals also. Towns and cities like Freehold, Howell, Jackson, Lakewood, Red Bank,Aberdeen,Sayerville,South Amboy,Old Bridge,Parlin, and Perth Amboy.
What I found out was what I knew, but never had the proof for. Except for,two different types of documentation.One were the medical records from the first break down. My parents were called when it happened. Even though, they were never there. It was stated in the records. My parents affirming, I was very angry and was unable to control myself. With a pending diagnosis of schizophrenia, which had a question mark next to it.
When I was released, at 615pm the same night. The diagnosis was abrasion/multiple stress. But how would they know all this, if I was eighteen at the time. We will get into more detail about that afternoon and that night in another blog.
Another document that stood out was a letter. I came to find. When getting my transcripts from elementary school at Perth Amboy NJ. You see, the old school house was destoryed. So I went to the townships Board of Education, and they told me where to locate them. I was expecting transcripts and report cards. What I got was a heart to heart conversation from the pricipal. He told me he debated about giving me this letter.
Before I got this letter, I only had speculation and a few documents. Before I got this letter, I was a half white trash. Half hispanic. Destin to be low income for the rest of my life. A bad joke, which I used to tell most people. Before I got this letter, the only thing I knew. Was that I was a gay bastard wed lock child. After I got this letter and read it. Which was in my mother's handwritting. It confirmed, what a lieing CUNT she is!
After this letter, it explained a whole lot more. My father was not my real father. "Oh shit! Someone call Maury!" Cause I just found out, I'm adopted!
Fate
1 a.The supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events.
b.The inevitable events predestined by this force.
2.A final result or consequence; an outcome.
3.Unfavorable destiny; doom.
4.Fates Greek & Roman Mythology. The three goddesses, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, who control human destiny. Used with the.
[Middle English, from Old French fat, from from Latin fātum, prophecy, doom, from neuter past participle of fārī, to speak.]
This definition can be found on this web site.
http://www.answers.com/topic/fate
What I think fate is. It's just the final result. An inevitable outcome. From the choices, we have made.Wether they are satisfying or substandard.It's almost like Newton's Third Law of Motion. For every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. I'm not implying there is this mystical power or unseen force. Just rendering, that what choice you make. Will have and end result. Wether you disappove of it or not.So is there any questioning about my Locus of control?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Locus_of_control
There is a reason why, I titled one blog. Repression is a Beautiful thing. Well, it's pretty self explanatory.We as humans do not want to remember the atrocious shit from are past, We all just want to forget and move on. To break this cycle though, and make sure I do not repeat another meltdown. I had to find out the truth. So I can, "Let it go!" as most people tell me.
Besides having faith within myself and a deep complex feeling that plauged me for over three years. I kicked started this sabbatical into high gear the summer of 2010. I have been thinking of doing this for awhile. Ever since, I put down my blog. Completely sober and no parties what so ever. I went back into my past. Not just to kick start repressed memomries but to pull up any paperwork that might prove my damage past and show. I am telling the truth.
A movie qoute comes to my head from Scream three. "The past will come back to bite you in the ass. Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it. The past is not at rest! Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."
http://scream.wikia.com/wiki/Scream_3
On this mind fuck of a journey, I went back to the few places I lived. Where I went to school at. Or where there was trouble.Hospitals also. Towns and cities like Freehold, Howell, Jackson, Lakewood, Red Bank,Aberdeen,Sayerville,South Amboy,Old Bridge,Parlin, and Perth Amboy.
What I found out was what I knew, but never had the proof for. Except for,two different types of documentation.One were the medical records from the first break down. My parents were called when it happened. Even though, they were never there. It was stated in the records. My parents affirming, I was very angry and was unable to control myself. With a pending diagnosis of schizophrenia, which had a question mark next to it.
When I was released, at 615pm the same night. The diagnosis was abrasion/multiple stress. But how would they know all this, if I was eighteen at the time. We will get into more detail about that afternoon and that night in another blog.
Another document that stood out was a letter. I came to find. When getting my transcripts from elementary school at Perth Amboy NJ. You see, the old school house was destoryed. So I went to the townships Board of Education, and they told me where to locate them. I was expecting transcripts and report cards. What I got was a heart to heart conversation from the pricipal. He told me he debated about giving me this letter.
Before I got this letter, I only had speculation and a few documents. Before I got this letter, I was a half white trash. Half hispanic. Destin to be low income for the rest of my life. A bad joke, which I used to tell most people. Before I got this letter, the only thing I knew. Was that I was a gay bastard wed lock child. After I got this letter and read it. Which was in my mother's handwritting. It confirmed, what a lieing CUNT she is!
After this letter, it explained a whole lot more. My father was not my real father. "Oh shit! Someone call Maury!" Cause I just found out, I'm adopted!
Friday, October 1, 2010
"CATCH 22 SITUATION"
Not to sound elementary or intended be enlighten, Albert Einstein once said. The defintion of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again and expect different results. In my given, "Catch 22 Situation". I found myself full of complex thoughts and mixed emotions. Knowing why so many people get lost in the system and become second offenders. A subject, or cycle that's citizens of the states know all to well. Or maybe they don't. Your opinion lies here. In a few words, which will be explained in futher detail later. I seeked out righteousness as I saw fit at that given time and point. Remembering what I said when I was on the stand. "I took justice into my own hands and I was wrong for it!" But sliently thinking to myself, "But, it sure did mother fucking help!" The judges ruling was pretty cut and dry. Since I was denied Pre trial Intervention.
http://www.judiciary.state.nj.us/criminal/crpti.htm
All the evidence was there, for all to see. For whoever was at this closed trial. Not to mention, three different restraining orders. The last restraining order. I had to place back on him for contacting me twice. I never contacted him when I was posted bail from Middlesex County Correctional Facility. Which I only spented thirty eight days behind bars. This matter fell under domestic violence and it was a slam dunk case. Yet, no one sued for restitution and out of my five charges that were pending. I had to plead guilty to only to two. Aggravated Assault # 3 and Criminal Mischieve. What I had to do afterwards was definitely a problem. Not to mention cause for concern.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assault
http://definitions.uslegal.com/c/criminal-mischief/
I would now be a convicted felon for the next ten years. Of course, I would have three years probation. So it would thirteen years before I can even be consider for expungement. I would have to tend an Anger Management course apointed by the State of New Jersey. Which has been already been completed. Numerous drugs screenings, not to mention, I have to maintain a job. Even with a recession going on. Let's just say the odds were againts me. This was a slap on the wrist compared to the five charges that I was facing. Ten to fifthteen years in prison and five years of patrol. All this done with a public defender. Which the only thing I had to do was supply the documents. Anything, I could get my hands on. Which I will be posting soon.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expungement
Now looking back at all of this. Knowing there only five months left in my probationary term. I shake my head and wonder in amazement. Content of what little I had. With what lack of knowledge and those who could help out only so much. What lied a head was this cycle I didn't expect. I had to get a job and maintain it, which finding a job for an Ex Con is not the easiest task. To say the least. Even though, still shaken up by the many issues of my past. That came flooding back like tidal wave. Therapy would be crucial.
I could not collect unemployment for I had to obey to the judges ruling about maintaining a job. The only work I could get were small time alloted projects that lasted a week or two. In a five or six month timed off period. No dental nor medical benefits. The only thing I could receive from the State of New Jersey was Food Stamps. Two hundred dollars a month. I stayed with a openly gay male couple who supplied me with room, in which I would do work around the house in return. Most people would see this as a houseman position.
My sanity was another thing. A total mess or a man on the edge. I will let you decide that. Almost completely broken as Wendy Williams once told me personally. I wonder why this couple would take such pity on me. Even still to this day. I think maybe one half of the couple was on some mission from, "GOD!" The other half wanting to suffer from punishment. I tried therapy where I could get it. Experimentive trials at Mount Sinai for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Fairleigh Dickerson too. For ADD. Which did not past. UCPC of Plainfield. ETC.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posttraumatic_stress_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ADD
You named it, I already have tried. The false diagnosis that other people said I might be. The doctors not taken a chance because I was suffering from one too many traumas. Then being referred to another hospital. Not to mention, no medical coverage because of the catch 22 cycle. It led to a dark dishearting road which many grow into a dispair. At my last interview at Fairleigh Dickerson. I remember that I told one of the doctors, "That sometimes I just feel like just taking a bottle of sleeping pills and going for the big sleep!" Trying to use laughter as a deflection. The bitch said to me, "That's a great idea!" With a sinster smile. Which finally broke me. I came home that day and tried to take my own life with a bottle of sleeping pills.
Nobody was around anymore because this was not the first time I had hit rock bottom. The one who found me, almost half pasted dead on study floor. Who suffered, from his many problems and issues himself. Saved my life. This couple, who bailed me out. I don't know what to say. Even when there are times we fight and bitch and moan at each other. They are the closes thing to family I have. How odd to say. Out of all the people in my life. It was these two trashy men, who pulled me out of this and I thank them and will ever be so loyal. No matter how much of a pain in the ass I am.
I started pulling my weight and then pushing myself to do things with such the time I had on my hands. Going to the library, and reading up on. Adjustment disorders, Identity Crisis, Double Life,Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, A.D.D., Schizophrenia,Bipolar disorder, Manic depressive,Multiple stress syndrome,Mania,Hypervigilance,Paranoid,Anti social...ETC. I think you get the point. All these things I just listed were to discribe me. Or I was called. Yet no one had any proof. Or was an expert.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranoia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisocial_personality_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypervigilance
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mania
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipolar_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Identity_Crisis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post_Traumatic_Stress_Disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ADHD_predominantly_inattentive
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adjustment_disorders
Someone once told me that society dictates who you are. Well after almost thirty years of all these mostly false diagnosis. Rumors. Gossip. No wonder why people think I'm so Anti social. Can you blame me?
I almost had to play incognito in a way. To hide this little boy with so many issues. Everything felt like a life or death choice. Even though, I dispise the word surivior. I had that complex up all the time. I stayed out from the club and bar scene. Hardly went out. No parties. The few times that I did. I was more jumpy and scared. Suffering more so from the victim's side of PTSD. Then the peratators. Which made no sense to anybody. Not to mention, I had to deal with Probation and legal fee's almost costing me over two grand. In which, I never had. Ten thousand dollars in student load debt, and my car repo.
The only thing I had when I walked out of my Ex's place. Was my cat, my out of date clothes, and my balls. Which I have to say, are pretty big now that I look back on this. I thank those people for giving me the benefit of a doubt. Giving me a few crumbs to spare. To stabilize. The rest was up to instinct and knowledge. Taking what I could get and what I could use. Not abuse to a point, or over indulge. Leaving the rest behind and take it as a lesson and not as a regret.
I did other things to keep myself busy but only so much. I didn't want it to look that I was trying to hard or that it would be taken as phony. Volunteering once a year, a lot of walking and jogging. Working out at home. Practicing taekwondo at home from what I could remember. Trying to keep active but not going overboard. Slowing down everthing that was around me wether it was by my hand or not.
I went to such groups that help ex cons. Like a place called, "Team 2000". Only to have it being thrown in my face. Chuckled at when I left. Trying another group, which helped ex cons get work which the turn over rate was less then five percent. I was lied to by many people or misguided. The basic run around. I was this running joke which was insufferable. This was the purpose. To kill my pride. Leaving very few options. To conform to religion. Or something much worst. For people to relish on this misery.
To have this subject matter of my life, laughed at many dinner conversations. Whispered into many ears of drunken fools over loud dance music. Pity and protaryed on the streets and at the few jobs I could obtain. I being an agnostic, didn't rely on religion. I find it to be pretentious and bogus. Knowing the little faith that I had was reserved and supplied for myself. Which most of us know the faith is just another form of trust. At least I hope we know.
With some experience under my belt. Also an abundance of knowledge better then most. I see why so many educated and uneducated. Not to mention the emotional and the mentally distressed get lost in this system. Then as a country wonder why we have second and third offenders. I remember back when I was a child. Watching cartoons and one of the charcters saying. "Justice isn't blind. She is crosseyed!" Now thinking about it. I see the truth in it. I have always said this and I wrote in my old blog. " We are all Victims, and we are all Villians!"
Knowing how we all are superifical, materialistic,hypocritical,and pertentious. Thinking about an old movie qoute from, Steel Magnolias. "An ounce of pertention, is worth a pound of manure!" How, "gay" can I get. Anyway, you can see my, "Catch 22". A situation in which a person is frustrated by a paradoxical rule or set of circumstances that preclude any attempt to escape from them. This definition brought to you by The Free Dictionary. By FarLex.
http://www.judiciary.state.nj.us/criminal/crpti.htm
All the evidence was there, for all to see. For whoever was at this closed trial. Not to mention, three different restraining orders. The last restraining order. I had to place back on him for contacting me twice. I never contacted him when I was posted bail from Middlesex County Correctional Facility. Which I only spented thirty eight days behind bars. This matter fell under domestic violence and it was a slam dunk case. Yet, no one sued for restitution and out of my five charges that were pending. I had to plead guilty to only to two. Aggravated Assault # 3 and Criminal Mischieve. What I had to do afterwards was definitely a problem. Not to mention cause for concern.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assault
http://definitions.uslegal.com/c/criminal-mischief/
I would now be a convicted felon for the next ten years. Of course, I would have three years probation. So it would thirteen years before I can even be consider for expungement. I would have to tend an Anger Management course apointed by the State of New Jersey. Which has been already been completed. Numerous drugs screenings, not to mention, I have to maintain a job. Even with a recession going on. Let's just say the odds were againts me. This was a slap on the wrist compared to the five charges that I was facing. Ten to fifthteen years in prison and five years of patrol. All this done with a public defender. Which the only thing I had to do was supply the documents. Anything, I could get my hands on. Which I will be posting soon.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expungement
Now looking back at all of this. Knowing there only five months left in my probationary term. I shake my head and wonder in amazement. Content of what little I had. With what lack of knowledge and those who could help out only so much. What lied a head was this cycle I didn't expect. I had to get a job and maintain it, which finding a job for an Ex Con is not the easiest task. To say the least. Even though, still shaken up by the many issues of my past. That came flooding back like tidal wave. Therapy would be crucial.
I could not collect unemployment for I had to obey to the judges ruling about maintaining a job. The only work I could get were small time alloted projects that lasted a week or two. In a five or six month timed off period. No dental nor medical benefits. The only thing I could receive from the State of New Jersey was Food Stamps. Two hundred dollars a month. I stayed with a openly gay male couple who supplied me with room, in which I would do work around the house in return. Most people would see this as a houseman position.
My sanity was another thing. A total mess or a man on the edge. I will let you decide that. Almost completely broken as Wendy Williams once told me personally. I wonder why this couple would take such pity on me. Even still to this day. I think maybe one half of the couple was on some mission from, "GOD!" The other half wanting to suffer from punishment. I tried therapy where I could get it. Experimentive trials at Mount Sinai for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Fairleigh Dickerson too. For ADD. Which did not past. UCPC of Plainfield. ETC.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posttraumatic_stress_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ADD
You named it, I already have tried. The false diagnosis that other people said I might be. The doctors not taken a chance because I was suffering from one too many traumas. Then being referred to another hospital. Not to mention, no medical coverage because of the catch 22 cycle. It led to a dark dishearting road which many grow into a dispair. At my last interview at Fairleigh Dickerson. I remember that I told one of the doctors, "That sometimes I just feel like just taking a bottle of sleeping pills and going for the big sleep!" Trying to use laughter as a deflection. The bitch said to me, "That's a great idea!" With a sinster smile. Which finally broke me. I came home that day and tried to take my own life with a bottle of sleeping pills.
Nobody was around anymore because this was not the first time I had hit rock bottom. The one who found me, almost half pasted dead on study floor. Who suffered, from his many problems and issues himself. Saved my life. This couple, who bailed me out. I don't know what to say. Even when there are times we fight and bitch and moan at each other. They are the closes thing to family I have. How odd to say. Out of all the people in my life. It was these two trashy men, who pulled me out of this and I thank them and will ever be so loyal. No matter how much of a pain in the ass I am.
I started pulling my weight and then pushing myself to do things with such the time I had on my hands. Going to the library, and reading up on. Adjustment disorders, Identity Crisis, Double Life,Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, A.D.D., Schizophrenia,Bipolar disorder, Manic depressive,Multiple stress syndrome,Mania,Hypervigilance,Paranoid,Anti social...ETC. I think you get the point. All these things I just listed were to discribe me. Or I was called. Yet no one had any proof. Or was an expert.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranoia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisocial_personality_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypervigilance
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mania
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipolar_disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Identity_Crisis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post_Traumatic_Stress_Disorder
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ADHD_predominantly_inattentive
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adjustment_disorders
Someone once told me that society dictates who you are. Well after almost thirty years of all these mostly false diagnosis. Rumors. Gossip. No wonder why people think I'm so Anti social. Can you blame me?
I almost had to play incognito in a way. To hide this little boy with so many issues. Everything felt like a life or death choice. Even though, I dispise the word surivior. I had that complex up all the time. I stayed out from the club and bar scene. Hardly went out. No parties. The few times that I did. I was more jumpy and scared. Suffering more so from the victim's side of PTSD. Then the peratators. Which made no sense to anybody. Not to mention, I had to deal with Probation and legal fee's almost costing me over two grand. In which, I never had. Ten thousand dollars in student load debt, and my car repo.
The only thing I had when I walked out of my Ex's place. Was my cat, my out of date clothes, and my balls. Which I have to say, are pretty big now that I look back on this. I thank those people for giving me the benefit of a doubt. Giving me a few crumbs to spare. To stabilize. The rest was up to instinct and knowledge. Taking what I could get and what I could use. Not abuse to a point, or over indulge. Leaving the rest behind and take it as a lesson and not as a regret.
I did other things to keep myself busy but only so much. I didn't want it to look that I was trying to hard or that it would be taken as phony. Volunteering once a year, a lot of walking and jogging. Working out at home. Practicing taekwondo at home from what I could remember. Trying to keep active but not going overboard. Slowing down everthing that was around me wether it was by my hand or not.
I went to such groups that help ex cons. Like a place called, "Team 2000". Only to have it being thrown in my face. Chuckled at when I left. Trying another group, which helped ex cons get work which the turn over rate was less then five percent. I was lied to by many people or misguided. The basic run around. I was this running joke which was insufferable. This was the purpose. To kill my pride. Leaving very few options. To conform to religion. Or something much worst. For people to relish on this misery.
To have this subject matter of my life, laughed at many dinner conversations. Whispered into many ears of drunken fools over loud dance music. Pity and protaryed on the streets and at the few jobs I could obtain. I being an agnostic, didn't rely on religion. I find it to be pretentious and bogus. Knowing the little faith that I had was reserved and supplied for myself. Which most of us know the faith is just another form of trust. At least I hope we know.
With some experience under my belt. Also an abundance of knowledge better then most. I see why so many educated and uneducated. Not to mention the emotional and the mentally distressed get lost in this system. Then as a country wonder why we have second and third offenders. I remember back when I was a child. Watching cartoons and one of the charcters saying. "Justice isn't blind. She is crosseyed!" Now thinking about it. I see the truth in it. I have always said this and I wrote in my old blog. " We are all Victims, and we are all Villians!"
Knowing how we all are superifical, materialistic,hypocritical,and pertentious. Thinking about an old movie qoute from, Steel Magnolias. "An ounce of pertention, is worth a pound of manure!" How, "gay" can I get. Anyway, you can see my, "Catch 22". A situation in which a person is frustrated by a paradoxical rule or set of circumstances that preclude any attempt to escape from them. This definition brought to you by The Free Dictionary. By FarLex.
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