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.