Do we just keep running? Or can I stop today?



I need to keep going before they catch me up in all of the lies that they continue to tell themselves.  I am running towards a private life to know love, happiness, peace, and to know what it is when people say don't give-up there is always hope.  I run like a mad man to know these things before I am absorbed by my past that is creeping up on me.  As my family begins the hunt once again I stare at no one, I have no one, I am alone. This is not any different than any other time in my life.  I know that it may seem to you as sad or shocking but why?  You just don't know because you never ask and when you do I am told, "lots of people have worse lives than yours." 

After many years and great thought I am ready and aiming at all the people that refuse to see that evil lives next door and answers the doorbell when it rings.  It has dinner parties, Wednesday Night Salons, Christmas parties, Easter Egg Hunts, goes out to dinner, entertains the Grandchildren, pays for boarding schools, goes on vacation, pays the bills, drinks coffee, enjoys a hot cup of tea, is unemployed, or employed, owns their own business, has a non-profit, donates all their time, loves their children to death, never questioned, lots of friends and this probably is somebody you know personally.  You may work alongside of them, you may be taking a walk in the park and pass them on the path.  You could shop in all the same places, spend the same money on the same things.  You probably share the same hairdresser or barber.  You might even go to church at the same place.  Your kids might play together and you may find that you go to a movie tonight look over and see a relation to me.

I have never heard one person offer to help me.  Never has anyone offered to expose the lie.  Never does anyone that I have ever met in my entire life feel sorry for me. This is not because I look for it or expect it, so don't jump on any high horse with me.  I have only done one thing, that is to look for everything that I do not know.  I was not loved as a baby and I have been told that this causes great problems as an adult. I learned how to behave with the public at large, through The Brady Bunch, Little House on the Prairie and other T.V. shows along this line.  At eighteen I decided to look for everything that I seemed to be missing. Never did I go out and tell strangers, nor friends about my childhood.  Anything that they did find out was always well after meeting me. No pity, no compassion, no evidence of anything other than flight or total abandonment after the light had been shed on my life, usually by my family.  You see, every person that I ever had as a friend also new my mother and according to her she knew them first.  It is all fine and dandy, they always sympathize with her as she tells them the story of her possessed and demonic daughter.  How she is on the loose and preys upon the innocent lives of others.  She goes on to tell them how I never go home for dinner, how she must pay for my children, she must care for my children while I am busy being addicted to prescription drugs.  She goes on telling them that I have written and published a book of scandal about the family.  I am destroying the innocent lives of my brother and sister.  All the dreams they have had are being destroyed and all they want to do is work in the family business, keep their heads down and make an honest dollar.  My mother explains that she began a non-profit business that is helping autistic people like her daughter.  She will say and exploit every avenue to do only one thing, destroy the friendship permanently.

No matter what the reasoning is today, yesterday or tomorrow I have suffered a life of great tragedy and yet it is remarkable.  This is a quote from a psychiatrist that did a full report and recommendation for my life going forward. As just a person existing on this planet I have found no one that is or can relate to my story in person.  I have found on this site many others that seem to suffer my plight.  What I am most discouraged about generally is the lack of persons that will confront and hold responsible the monsters that have delivered such despair to so many.  As the offspring of a cult leader, a malignant narcissist or medically known as a sociopath, I declare to who may interested in my declaration of life the following.  I will proceed forward in the battle I have been in privately so far to expose and hold responsible those persons that answer the character description of a soul shatterer. I am tired of people that do not believe others when the distress in there voice can be heard from the words written in letters on blogs.  The simple act of being a person that chooses to not just exist here for their own pleasure brings me solace.

I am compelled to deliver a story to you about the lacking of sympathy to a person that has knowingly lived a life of pain and twisted agony.  I have learned more from the interaction I have had in life about how what I watched on the television as a child is just a lie and an imagination of things that are not real.  The character assassination of the average person should come from the severely neglected children of the world.  Had the layman not turned a blind eye in my youth than I would be in a different state of mind.  All I have proceeded in learning as an adult is to never talk about anything upsetting if it is you.  If it is gossip and about another than for fucks sake never end the conversation or attention into that person's private life. It is this fact that makes me squirm.  I hate it when people talk behind your back and as you make it into the room there is this uncomfortable silence.  Never forget I was raised by two, then three, then four, then a congregation of narcissistic prone adults, just learning from my mother how to advantage there life and there pocketbook.  It is in the coarse action of other people that I have seen lack of remorse or proper acknowledgement of their action in the crime against my life and the far bigger crime against humanity itself.

I was born into slavery and cannot declare my innocence because the belief of such an act is dismissed readily by everyone.  I want you to log-on to the following site and start at the end, reading your way through the entire blog.  I want you to count how many times slavery is referred too.  I also want you to recognize that you are not well-versed in the tongue of the malignant narcissist that speaks between the lines to testify to the actions.  This is done so that they can say behind the closed doors on any day, but I told you what I was doing, it is not my fault you did not read what I wrote on this public venue.  The layman needs a narcissists dictionary that has never been written.  I need the relief of the pain that I feel for myself to end today.  As the person that took me out of school along with my mother to educate me at home is running a Christian Home Education program on the net. She purports herself to be something that she never was to me, a private tutor. Make sure you read the entire sight before you question me in an appeal of this horror of a life I survive and continue to live on a daily basis.  Being frank and totally honest with you today, I have had to use the public that I meet in passing as the parental reference to proper behavior to become socially acceptable as an adult.  I quit my appeal to anyone in regards to what is proper or improper behavior when I find an active site that supports the malignant narcissists that are so openly and proudly speaking of there work. I have to support myself and my memories of the horrors that this person and people just like her perpetrated upon my life with my mother as a support.

At sixteen years old she gave me an examine in my mothers home.  She graded this test, looked at my mother and said the following, "she has a sixth grade education. We should start with fourth grade material and if I were fortunate she will catch on before it is too late to educate her properly."  My mother screamed Hallelujahs, jumped around in her bathrobe and said, "I knew I was right to pull her out of the school she was in, they said they were going back to the basics but obviously they have not."  I looked at both of them, stood-up, shut the book in front of me and said nothing.  I never saw another book, I never was given any material to educate myself with, fourth grade or not. This so called educator never returned to do any sort of education in my mothers home where I was to reside for the next two years in silence.  I sat until I was eighteen in that home of ill-repute. I could not leave or I would have been a truant. I don't do anything without great thought and even greater consideration of the repercussions on everyone concerned. To suffer at the hands of so many that are so capable is reprehensible.

Maybe I am just hot under the collar, but if you read this website and find that the program they use to educate children with is as deplorable as I feel it may be,  then help me stop the pain, so no other children suffer the agony of sitting and waiting while never being educated at all.  Just counting the days and the years until they hit eighteen.  Please read this poem all the way through before you continue to the website that I have posted below.  The pain is real, the agony is not bearable by many.  By best friend committed suicide over what happened to him.  Help me by helping the be voice of the innocent victims that cannot be heard today.  Sadly, by the time we can be heard and can decipher the web of confusion brought upon us by our parental figures, it is too late.  The damage has been done and cannot be reversed.  PTSD are avoidable in this instance if you can understand that evil just finds a new venue to perpetuate its message.  You cannot stop that which refuses to heed anything other than its own protection of the crime that they are committing against humanity.

For the children who were broken

For children who were broken

it is very hard to mend......

Our pain was rarely spoken

and we hid the truth from friends.

Our parents said they loved us,

but they didn't act that way.

They broke our hearts and stole our worth,

with the things that they would say.

We wanted them to love us.

We didn't know what we did

to make them yell at us and hit us,

and wish we weren't their kid.

They'd beat us up and scream at us

and blame us for their lives.

Then they'd hold us close inside their

arms and tell us confusing lies

of how they really loved us

-- even though we were BAD,

and how it was OUR fault they hit us,

OUR fault that they were mad.

When days were just beginning

we sometimes prayed for them to end,

and when the pain kept coming,

we learned to just pretend

that we were good and so were they

and this was just one of those days

...tomorrow we'd be friends.

We had to believe it so.

We had nowhere else to go.

Each day that we pretended,

we replaced reality

with lies, or dreams,

or angry schemes,

in search of dignity ....

until our lies got bigger

than the truth,

and we had no one real to be.

Our bodies were forsaken.

With no safe place to hide,

we learned to stop

hearing and feeling

what they did to our outsides.

We tried to make them love us,

till we hated ourselves instead,

and couldn't see a way out,

and wished that they were dead.

We scared ourselves by thinking that

and scared ourselves to know,

that we were acting just like them

--and might ever more be so.

To be half the size of a grown-

up and trapped inside their pain....

To every day lose everything

with no savior or refrain...

To wonder how it is possible

that God could so forget

the worthy child you knew you were,

when you had not been damaged yet ...

To figure on your fingers

the years till you'd be grown

enough to leave the torment

and survive away from home,

were more than you could count to,

or more than you could bear,

was the reality we lived in

and we knew it wasn't fair.

We who grew up broken

are somewhat out of time,

struggling to mend our childhood,

when our peers are in their prime.

Where others find love and contentment,

we still often have to strive

to remember we are worthy,

and heroes just to be alive.

Some of us are healing.

some of us are stealing.

Most are passing the anger on.

Some give their lives away to drugs,

or the promise of like beyond.

Some still hide from society.

Some struggle to belong.

But all of us are wishing

the past would not hold on so long.

There's a lot of digging down to do

to find the child within,

to love away the ugly pain

and feel innocence again.

There is forgiveness worthy of angel's

wings for remembering those at all,

who abused our sacred childhood

and programmed us to fall.

To seek to understand them,

and how their pain became our own,

is to risk the ground we stand on

to climb the mountain home.

The journey is not so lonely

as in the past it has been ...

More of us are strong enough

to let the growth begin.

But while we're trekking up the mountain

we need everything we've got,

to face the adults we have become,

and all that we are not.

So when you see us weary

from the day's internal climb ...

When we find fault with your best efforts,

or treat imperfection as purposeful crime ...

When you see our quick defenses,

our efforts to control,

our readiness to form a

plan of unrealistic goals ...

When we run into a conflict

and fight to the bitter end,

remember ....

We think that winning means

we won't be hurt again.

When we abandon OUR thoughts and feelings,

to be what we believe YOU want us to,

or look at trouble we're having,

and want to blame it all on you...

When life calls for new beginnings,

and we fear they re doomed to end,

remember...

Wounded trust is like a wounded knee--

It is very hard to bend.

Please remember this

when we are out of sorts.

Tell us the truth, and be our friend.

For children who were broken...

it is very hard to mend.

by Elia Wise

Start here and then click on the site I have posted, I did.  I am sure that I will not have any support, as I never have known support in helping to stop or expose the crimes or cons of narcissists.  A con is con, a rose called by any other name is still a rose.  My older sister Tam and her words that I have grown so tired of hearing in past years but seems so appropriate today. 

 
http://philomathfoundation.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=14&Itemid=37&limit=8&limitstart=48

Rank And File

What rank do you give file?

Is it high or is it mild?

My mind closes Wild.

I am just a lost child.

Look left, look right, don't fight.

Tell yourself the truth!

Hold it in, let it go.

Which one?

Inside yourself it is all piled up.

Treacherous, nobody believes.

Lost in all the made-up lies?

Siblings Family, not me!

Use your brain to be your guide.

No response to this assembly line?

Poem or written verse,

just plainly spoken, not perverse.

Like a computer, a learned robot.

Testify is not the reason,

it is a lot.

Shaking voice. Fear to live.

Constant path of destruction,

this I must stop.

Say to yourself, Why not?

Years have past.

Time to hear from what was not last.

An IT, a THING, a girl,

a human being, "Hello."

Entry always denied.

Family was tightly tied.

Scapegoat has a final reply,

my turn to be free!

Back-OFF from what you have scoffed.



Never released.

Wild from Birth.

Never caged.

Doesn't rehearse.

Writes to be heard.

Speaks to be seen.

Words that come out,

are really very mean.

Do not turn from this; LEARN!

If all you know,

is stub your toe,

then read and show,

you are clueless to the tragedy,

that lives inside of me.

Pain is my agony,

agony is my joy,

joy is my temper,

temper is my happiness,

and that is the defender of all of this.

Emergency Clothes

Look!

A packed black bag by the bed.

Just in case.

Three months prior to disaster.

Life is such a joke.

Plan ahead with your failed friend.

Never enough to not help but sabotage.

Cut off my phone!

Leave me no options.

RUN!!

I called it to you, did you listen?

Your plan for me?

Leave me in a half-empty place, alone.

No phone? No idea of where?

You are just gone. Final.

Stop, You are scaring me!!

Never.

You will never leave me?

Impossible to be that sure.

Do not speak a half-truth, please.

You look ILL.

Did I say what you did?

1.) Make sure you plan in front of abused.

2.) Pack for obvious notice to the abused for impact affect on abused.

3.) Plan for later rational of
"I did it in front of you, I was not hiding my leaving."

4.) Keep very calm while act of impending doom is in action on abused.

FOUR.) Never think so loud that I hear you,

signed; the abused.

FIVE.) Do not fuck the permanently FUCKED!

signed; the abused.

SIX.) Hyper-Vigilance definition; SIXTH SENSE

signed; the abused.

Seven.) Advice; never plan an attack on the ritually abused. 

signed; the witness

1.) Don't ever say you are helping me.

2.) Then say you cannot help yourself. 

3.) Do not tell abused that you need an end to their story so you can write the book.

4.) Never go head to head with the abused.

Especially when,

she is the sister to a brother,

to a sister and the daughter of a mother,

that is a Malignant Narcissist.

It is all in the breeding.

of the perpetual rolling,

from one to the other.

Criticize within,

Yea!

Criticize without.

Bad idea.

The end you will never see.

You will only receive from three,

and it will never be me.

Pandora's Box

Pandora's Box is opening,

the time is here,

the time is now.

The eye that sees,

the ear that hears,

has simply written the message!!

It is time for the message to be delivered,

there is power in numbers,

strength in knowledge,

there is clarity in our eyes.

This clarity allows us to see a vision of greater depth

and understanding to deliver to the generation of the blind.

Finally I remember where I put It! My HEART............

My sister had me by my shirt and she was moving as fast as she could with me in tow.  Up the stairs we went at 815 Balboa.  Around the corner and turned right into the Linen Closet.  She rushes to close the door behind us, pushes me in front and takes my shoulders and keeps on pushing to the back of the closet.  Looking straight ahead there were three bins that had holes drilled in the doors. The doors pulled down to open them and it was where we kept blankets, towels and sheets.  We get all the way to the back of this very long and narrow closet,  she stepped in front of me and pulled the lowest of the three cupboards down.  She pushes me to go faster. At that moment you here the knocking around of a person on the staircase we had just come up, then you could barely hear the noise of what I guess was going to erupt. 



I am in the cupboard now, the blankets were pushed aside from our last visit.  In climbs my sister and as she is turning around she begins to close us in.  I asked what was going on. She held her finger to her lips and said "SsHHH."  She always spit when she did this to me.  Apparently I had a problem with whispering and while we were in this little tiny hiding spot I cannot tell you how many times the SSHHH happened.  As we sat I noticed we were getting to big to be in there together.  It was much more crowded than it used to be and as usual it got stuffy very fast.  She would have to open the cupboard door regularly to allow the air to flow in side of the cupboard we were hiding in. I used to put my mouth up to the holes and try to get more air through those, it never worked very well.  I was always so impressed about how she knew just how long we could sit there before she had to open the door for more air allowing us to not suffocate.



By this time our wonderful parents had made it to the top of the stairs and the screaming and yelling were deafening.  Now they were looking for us to hit.  You could here my father banging my mother all around in the hall way. You could hear the screaming voice of my mother just about now, they were directly outside the linen closet.  This was always when my sister would hold her finger to her lips and stare, almost glare through the holes in the cupboard door.  She was looking to see if anyone was coming into the linen closet to find us.  She held the cupboard door and as we began to suck up all the oxygen and it became wet in there from our breath, she would just wait, not opening it for any circulation.



The fight would begin to get worse and worse but they were making their way to the master bedroom down the hall.  You could hear and almost feel as my mother was being thrown against the walls of the hall.  Then slam went the door of the master bedroom at the end of the hall.  Just then my sister would open the cupboard door for only a moment and then shut it quickly.  I was always so amazed that we did not suffocate, I thought to myself she really knows what she is doing.  From then on out on every other time she would make us stay in there for so long that I would fall asleep finally.



On this particular day before I fell asleep and after enough time had passed for her safety check. She had to sure that they were both in the bedroom and not pretending to be in there, while actually hunting the house for us to beat.   After she was sure that they did not have their ears up to doors in the house looking for our hiding places she would carefully and quite silently climb out and turn the soy lent green free standing hamper around so that it would be facing the door that lead out to the closet completely.  She would pile up the dirty clothes up on the hamper, push it as far back as he could, climb around it and back into the cupboard with me.  Then instead of fulling closing the door, she would pull the lid of the hamper as close as she could and let the cupboard door fall on it. Then take the blankets we were sitting on and fill it in a little higher. This way you really couldn't tell anyone was back there and we could finally breath easier.  Right before she was going to chance it and turn the hamper so that it would work for us, I said this to her.  "You are so smart and you always know how long we have to breath before we die.  I have to give you something because I don't need it in this place or here at all and you will know what to do with it, take better care of it and I don't want it.  I have to give you my heart, I can't have it here and I know you will keep it safe for me."



I don't remember what she said to me, but, she took it, just like a big sister would do for her little sister that is seven years younger.  A few years ago I remembered what I had done with my heart. I had been trying to remember for years what I had done with it.  I thought I had put it in a box and buried it under a tree.  I had a friend at the time and I shared this story of my missing heart.  I had told him that I had put my heart someplace I just couldn't remember where I put it and it was bugging me because I thought I should finally find it after all these years. I told him that I had put it down as a kid because I did not need it anymore along with my soul. We spent a lot of time searching everywhere. We went to old haunts, looked under trees I recognized and each time I would look at him and say, "No, this isn't where I left it, I know I left it in the safest place ever."  Then out of the blue one day I remembered, the linen closet, the drilled holes of the hamper door and my sister.  I called her right then and said. "You have my heart.!"  Silence filled the air and then, "I never thought that you would remember that you had done that to me.  Yes I have your heart."  I asked, "Is it still in good condition."  She answered "Yes."  She asked if I wanted it back now, I told her no she could use it better than I, plus you have had for so many years wouldn't it be like ripping out of you?  She replied, "Yes."  I said  "Keep it, you have taken care of it since I was small."  I asked her how old I was when this originally happened.  She told me I was three.  She thanked me for letting her keep it.  I told her that it was cool, I was just so bugged that I could not remember where I put it. I told her that I thought I had buried it in a box under a tree, but now I think that might have been my soul. She did this low half hearted chortle as if she did not mean it but it seemed appropriate for what I had said.  That was that, I told her I had to go.  It may have been the last time I spoke to her, I don't know.  I am just happy I found my heart again, it is safely tucked away with the most brilliant person in the world.  She kept us breathing while our parents fought and we did not get beaten or die of suffocation.  Smarter than I because the time the bag went over my head I ended up on the outside of myself staring at the scene of the crime.  There I was, still on the basement floor with a black bag over my head. I wasn't breathing.  I remember it like yesterday.

The End

Regard your existence.

"So, tell me your source.

Oop's I mean your story.

I am uneducated in a sort."

"Talk about your troubles.

Freely, Openly,

Honestly!!

Be truthful, start at the beginning."

Well, I am bothered.

"Thank you."

Excuse me?

(moment of silence.)

I don't know who my father is.

I did not have a mother.

I had a Malignant Narcissist instead.

"Stop there.

A lot of people suffer from that."

Period.

End your self-expression.

Silently spoken with no words.

Question?

(Audible)

"Yes."

Do you know anyone like that?

I would like to meet them.

"No."

Oh!

"Pity is a self-gratification."

Who wants it?

"What."

I don't understand what you are saying.

"I know you don't,

that is our problem."

What problem?

"The one we are having."

I thought I was supposed to tell you my problem.

"NO!

I never said that,

I SAID................."

Bad Idea.

Silence.

Not Golden,

just smart.

Follow me to the circle,

I'll dig a hole,

you fall in.

The End

Take A Break

I cool my heels on the backs of Abusers.

A Game.

Move around to not be hit, Calmly.

Chess.

I am a pawn in this Life.

Board?

Accepting and Cooperative.

Me.

Never rock the Boat.

Sea Sick?

Stand-up straight while being Attacked.

Hit! ugh.

Obey your Mother, Hate your Brethren.

God spoke.

Hold nothing in. Show all your pain at all times.

Hide in plain Site.

Bid for your Opportunity.

Revenge.

Never hurry the hand of the Law.

It never Shows.

Keep what happens at home in total Darkness.

Get a Lightbulb.

Look at your life and never make a Mistake.

Death is certain.

Instructions for all the weak.

Still Confused.

Interpret what others are going to do to you at least three months in Advance.

Proper install of Fear.

Never suffer flight when you are finally old enough to fight.

Suffer till the Age of Atonement.

Give way to a Stranger.

Complicates.

A Black Hood?

I remember who,

I remember when,

passed down to the next generation, when?

It all began again.

Suffocated with a hand.

No bag?

Up close. Not from behind.

Breath slow...slower.

Not good enough!!

Quick, don't die.

Got it.

Easy now,

keep it shallow.

Flutter the eyes,

relax the body,

let it go,

NOW!

Almost all the way with this one.

Stay still.

Don't hold your breath.

Keep it shallow.

QUIET! STUPID!

Look dead.

Keep eyes cracked.

What do you see?

Still there.

Further from me now,

easy, don't panic.

Almost there.

"What a Friend, Nothing Stops the Unstoppable"

Dear Past,

Confront Me!

Destroy my present Life.

Leave me quietly at day light,

return to remind me at sundown.

Don't bother others with questions.

Keep it real with flashbacks.

Exhaust me from sleepless nights.

Make my dreams, Nightmares.

Do you miss me when I forget you?

Are you lonely with just the old friends you have?

Is your pain to singular when I am gone?

Don't you love the silence?

Bring it all.

Don't leave one memory behind.

Invite comments and judgments from past offenders,

to be the audio, to the video that runs in my head.

Tell immediate family to dump it all on me.

Isn't that the job?

You told me so.

Forgetting nothing is important.

Making the flashback live it is so useful.

Thanks.

It irons it all out so well, so vividly for me.

Do I call the men I see?

How about the women?

Are the orgy's still in your repertoire?

Just curious how much further we must go down the lane before we say Adios,

to the other.

I know the ugliness you must have to live with,

when will you give it up?

I mean, really, get real past,

I'm tired, your tired,

you are a worn out record.

Oh, I am so sorry.

I had no idea.

Keep me close,

I will speak on your behalf,

yes, until the end.  I swear.

Love Always,

The friend you will never need,

Me

Cum Hence, Fear Not

Slick back your hair!

With the cum you never leave there.

Hide evidence in plain site.

Place a lamp by me tonight?

I am WHat? Dirty at Night?

Who? Keep quiet. Why?

I have a filthy mind?

Where? Don't defend?

I make-up all What?

Why bother to call,

parental care is never there.

Obvious guilt is entirely me.

Oh wait, how can that be?

Did you not collect money for me?

I hid under my bed.

You removed it from my room.

Left a mattress on the ground.

The closet still looks good to me.

I still hide with no liberty.

Is that guilt or innocence to thee?

Why bother to answer at all?

You never did, you should fall.

Will it bother me to write,

the wrongs that I survive?

Leaving me in parking lots,

just to see reactions.

How old was I when I did not cry?

Stood still, in shock!

Stifled, I rot.

No recovery is made from sin.

Did you kill the kittens again?

My fault, I see, I gave them milk,

instead of the food you never bought.

The fountain at eight fifteen?

Do you think it stands?

and remembers me?

One more photo, yea, it's me.

NO!!!

Answered with privileged nod.

You are mistaken.

I never beat,

the dog, the cat, or the kid.

I am British, it's not my breeding.

I am lost in scandal.

Words driven from two years past.

Silenced by the suffocation.

Present in location.

Mindful of my own vulnerabilities,

don't speak until you can say,

"I have had sufficiency."

Taught by privileged man.

Age Three.

Why Bother The Dead?

The choice to speak will not be me.

I cry and silence myself.

Fear inhabits my gut.

I shake with the sickness of remembrance.

No matter what!!

It won't shut-up.

I can't make new friends.

I don't want to explain my hiccup.

Oh Dear Friend,

Do you agree?

The Golden Rule of Silence,

speaks louder than me.

Body ill, mind weak, heart GONE!!

Get OuT! You return.

I Shout! You record.

I Spit! You leave.

Do you remember me now?

Worry not, complicate this.

If you hold ground like me,

it means, I have found.

Just wait one more minute and you'll see,

I was a baby whore at three.

Hello?

From the dark depths of Hell.

Love Always,

A bell,

that tolls for you.

The expense is high at this time.

To pay for damages of mine.

Don't go to far!

Please don't die!

I want so much to meet your family.

RETREAT!!

No. You cannot go.

To late for all of you.

Memories will hold true.

As your friends from long past,

continue to just spill trash.

As death nears your soul,

confidence wanes.

I fear they have rolled on you.

Worry not yourself,

I don't tell anyone everything.

I speak not at all,

but I will write until I fall.

That has been when, not why, I'll tell it ALL.

Oop's!! Is that the same?

As telling everyone your name?

Don't fret.

Your epitaph will read the same as always to me.

I RED.



Don't Ask, Don't Tell

How young do you need?

Before you heed?

Stop yourself,

and take a knee?

Memories are not all mine.

Advertise and I find,

Men of old, Men of time.

Are you disgraced?

Or are you fine?

My mind goes where you have been.

Don't tell me that you are thin.

I don't care you are old.

I remember your dick,

it did not unfold.

All the moments of why I'm sold.

I listen to the ghosts,

echoing the voice of yours.

I had no choice.

Did you accidentally come across?

What is not an actual loss?

Is it not better to scream?

Maybe we both can find...

Redeem!!

I was a child of no noise.

You were men with money to pay.

Photographs complicate denial.

Don't you wish you knew for sure?

I do, don't ask, don't tell.

Remember that?

In the past few years people have made it impossible to meet them face to face.

Today I came to an enlightenment about how people from my past are treating me.  They all keep me at a distance.  All communication, if any, is on the phone or via email.  I thought to myself, Why do they still contact me but never have time to see me.  I have tried to visit on several different occasions in the past five to six years and they always have company, the house is being cleaned, the pool is in trouble or any number of other excuses.  In the case of my mother and step-father, they put a restraining order on me two years ago.  My mother continues to break it of course.  As far as the other people I know they have just given me the cold shoulder, I call or email and I never hear anything back.



At first I never thought to much about it, but the other day it struck me really hard.  First off it has been a solid three years since I have heard from most of the people I know.  The rest of the people that I do know will only contact me by phone.  The last time that I went to pick something up at a friends house, they left it outside for me to pick up.  I thought that it was a little unusual but then again the entire thing was just different than the norm.  I did try calling several times and she never answered or returned my call, it has been two years now.



Here is my insight.  If you keep someone at arms length and they never have an opportunity to speak to you face to face, then you can say anything that you want to them without them ever seeing your face or eyes.  You can lie, antagonize, drop innuendos, be cruel, take a tone, never get to the point and mostly you can do all of this under the protection of the person you are speaking to never seeing you express your true feelings via face to face contact.  I mean how do you get to the truth about anything?  You never confront people on the phone, or at least I have not done to much of it.  I usually have a conversation with somebody and something will come to mind and I ask them about it.  The look on their face usually gives away how they are feeling about the subject matter you are speaking of.  I know this is a very important observation to make during any given conversation in life.   Nobody wants to make another person uncomfortable while having a conversation.  I have not seen anyone that I have known that would have the answers that I need to find out why I am getting the cold shoulder.  I have not seen my oldest daughter, nor have I heard from her in three years.  Ever since she graduated from Berkeley. She did not invite me and I don't even know why.  My feelings were terribly hurt over this one but I never called to ask her anything about it.  In fact I wrote her a couple of emails about it but never did try to call or see her, I just don't know what to say to such a person.  I worked very hard for a very long time so that she could go to the school of her dreams.  To not even invite me to the functions on the University or Graduation was more than an insult to me.  it was a slap in the face for even existing.  Obviously she does not want me as a parent which is fine with me, all she had to do was take me out to lunch or dinner and tell me like a civilized human being would do, face to face, I can respect that one.  My mother is a cult leader and very successful malignant narcissist so I understand just about anything anyone would like to tell me about knowing me.  With a mother like the one I have you never have to many quite moments in your life if you are a friend or child of mine.  You understand that since the restraining order she had had my youngest daughter living at her house and now my son lives and attends boarding school in San Friends out of her house.  Since the restraining order includes any contact I cannot and have not been able to contact my younger children at all in the past few years. So basically, my daughter could have, in theory taken me out and  have done this with dignity and grace.  You can only do something that impacts another persons life if you do it in person to explain your reasoning for your actions and then the person (I happen to be her mother) has an opportunity or not to change so that they may be able to stay in your life. To just cut someone off by not answering or by absolutely no communication it leaves you or me in this case, wondering what she is so guilty of that she cannot even call or write to tell me why she no longer wants to speak to me or have her in her life at all.



I would think that all of this would be an isolated case, but my father (supposedly anyway) my siblings, my mother, my step-father and friends that I used to have, just will not have any personal contact with  me.  I spoke to an old friend that my daughter had been living with during her schooling at the University of Berkeley.  This person was helpful and it was a delight to speak to her after so many years had passed.  I was invited to call her back and have dinner.  I did do this within two or three days of the invite, I left a message and never heard anything.   So, I called the next time I was in town and the number was disconnected.  I emailed and I got no response.  Now this is the person that was my friend and is an adult older than I.  She does have my daughter in her life and did go to her graduation.  I have not spoken to her since but felt that some three years had passed and that our friendship meant more than the spoiled brat behavior that my daughter seems to be portraying at the moment, so I called.  But, why change the number?  Why not respond to the email that I sent?  Why be so delightful and then turn a cold shoulder to and be so rude as to just dissconnect your phone number?



I believe that it is the same reason why everyone is happy to have my number (I no longer have a phone) and call but nobody wants to carry through and meet.  I mean, Hell, when you meet the person that is causing you to feel guilt, you may turn a funny color and want to puke.  This may give this stupid girl (me) an idea that she is being had.  As far as my immediate family goes (not my children) they don't want to meet at all.  I mean just imagine, "Hi, how are you? I have been doing some thinking and have some questions about my childhood?"  The entire room begins to puke and proceed to pass out after my question.  The End for now, this is all causing me to feel ill as well, especially if I find out I am correct.



This all occurred to me because this cold shoulder  and isolation treatment is not new to me.  It is a repeat performance from the age of four or so.  That is why it has been making me so sick to my stomach.  It is one thing to not speak to a person for a reason, but to not have any contact with them because you need them to stay off balance in life so they never confront you or never become settled with the past makes it all very different.  In fact, it makes vengence seem sweet, especially when you were willing to just drop it all because of the embarrassment from when you were small.