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.