Life is something that many have pondered the meaning of. In my forty years I have done my share of pondering, too. And come to one conclusion, life is not to be pondered, it is simply to be lived. Hard, fast it is your choice, or hard and fast. That was my choice, until I realized how we unintentionally write our future with the things we say and do, today. And I contracted a virus for which there is no cure.
When I decided that I would live my life balls to the wall, as fast and as hard as possible, I knew that it would come with some pain. I figured that I would be a good example for my three sisters to see what not to do, after all, that’s all I had growing up. I decided that I would show them how to walk through life, in pain. I was already dealing with a lot when I made the decision. I never would have believed how hard it would get.
I became addicted to drugs at age 18 behind a pretty girl I was in love with. That took a toll on our relationship and me personally. The addiction last much longer than we did as a couple. I couldn’t teach her a thing a never even tried. I could have made the relationship work but didn’t because I wasn’t mature enough to know that it was up to me. Then I saw that my life was full of pain only now I was almost afflicting it on myself by letting things happen to me that should have never happened. Like being manipulated by a girl.
I was rocking and rolling through my twenties until at age 25 when I was diagnosed with AIDS, not HIV. I said, “It was the struggle that keeps me alive”, and a friend told me not to say that but I didn’t understand. Then I injured my spine and lost my ability to walk at age 30.
This life has become an exercise in pain. It’s a challenge just to get out of bed in the morning. Physically, Psychologically, Spiritually, Emotionally. But I do it anyway. I want to be a monument to struggle. A beacon shouting, “You can do this.” My life doesn’t offer many comforts but what I have, I wanted. Illicit drugs were always there when I needed some quick but unfulfilling relief. For years, I wanted to back out and as part of my struggle I cope with daily thoughts of suicide. But then make the decision that I am not gong out by my own hand because of what that would do to the message of my life. What my sisters would learn.
No matter how hard, no matter how miserable, you must look deep inside yourself and find the necessary strength to go until your number is called. Life is a gift and, at the end, feelings of waste will weigh heavy on your soul. Pity is not something I seek, it is something I lived with for years until I grew passed it. I realized that all the things in my life I set myself up for and harbor no ill will toward anyone for my challenges. So,I am here as a reminder of what you do have, and a reminder, particularly for my sisters that it is not necessary to suffer as their big brother has already taken up that cause. And it would just be rude to steal my thunder.
I write for the cause of the downtrodden and those whom are never heard. The psych patients at hospitals that never actually help them. The people suffering, struggling against a system designed to erase them. Kept in place by a government check and medication that doesn’t cure but keeps them alive as cash cows delivering milk of gold to the pharmaceutical industrial complex. My voice is for the not-so-little people, and the very-little people. And it needs to be heard.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Tony's Jam
Tony was a little boy but could already feel the separation between his soul and the physical manifestation of his being. It was because he wasn’t really fond of this life that he was born into. His father, Mark, was absent and had been since he was two years old and his mother routinely chose the wrong man. Her second choice Eddie, included a big church wedding where he wore a tux and performed the service of ring bearer. But the relationship had it’s pit falls. He was physically and verbally abusive to his Mother but treated the young boy like a prince, which twisted his mind and allegiances into a psychological knot. Not surprisingly the marriage ended in a divorce too early for Tony’s princehood but timely perhaps for his Mother although was single once again.
Tony at age 7 had been raised primarily by women, with his mother or at his grandmother’s house. Tony had a bad feeling any time a man would come into play. When his Grandfather came home from work he felt that the fun was over. Tony’s Grandfather was a kind man. The stain was already there and it would never be erased. Tony hated men and his Mother’s new beau would do nothing but reinforce that.
The third time was no charm for his mother, nonetheless she would welcome a man into their home that Tony immediately felt despised him. Always calling him names and ordering him around.
The man drank a lot, smoked a lot and had a wooden leg.Tony had this whimsical notion that handicapped people were nice, having to struggle with extra limitations and deal with pain.With Burt, he was learning otherwise.
His Mother met him at a friend’s house in the apartment directly across from theirs. They would all drink heavily, smoke pot and tease their kids; of which the friend has three. They were tougher than Tony and seemed to get a lot of beatings. Their Mother talked about times when she beat her kids as if it were a joke. Tony was not accustomed to abuse as his Mother never laid a hand on him because Tony was a good boy. Not a kiss ass, just an honest kid who knew the right thing to do and did it. The only time he was bad was when he hung around other kids who coerced him. Tony was gullible, easy to trust, not having experience with getting taken advantage of, yet. Tony’s Mom was the same, gullible as the day is long. She was the butt of jokes at her friends house, even from her new man, Burt.
Tony remembers the first time Burt caught him doing wrong. The group of kids that Tony was hanging out with set up a little girl to get in trouble with her parents. When she got caught, all the kids went around to her bedroom window to listen to her get beat by her Dad. Burt was sitting in his red ‘64 Mustang drinking beer and smoking cigars. When he got back in the apartment he told Tony’s Mom and convinced her that he needed a beating. She complied, being her gullible self, that was the initiation of them both to his beatings.
Burt soon would sell that car, so they could move into an apartment together, he would use that as fuel in arguments for years to come.
Tony went to private school. A school that his father was paying for until he stopped. His Mom and Burt took up payments so he could finish elementary school. School started being Tony’s refuge. Home took on the feeling of a concentration camp, not that he knew what that was like but if he were to imagine, it would be home. He felt his every move was under scrutiny, his room was his sanctuary. He was constantly being yelled at, to get Burt a beer, the way he was sitting and always being called a sissy and/or a faggot. His self-esteem took a downward spiral, day in, day out getting criticized about everything little thing. He was never right. In the morning they could do nothing to him that would compare to what he went through the night before.
There never seemed to be enough money to buy school supplies and clothes, but the refrigerator was always full of beer and enough cigarettes to support a four pack a day habit. Tony felt like a fifth wheel and didn’t understand why his Mom had given birth to a son, he
didn’t want to be alive anymore.
Third grade was the first complete grade that Burt was in the house. And the first that he thought about suicide or murder. He would sleep walk at night and there was a period where he was afraid to go to sleep, for fear that he would go to the kitchen, grab a butcher’s knife and kill Burt. He was scared because he thought he might kill his Mother, too, unable to control his rage. His love for his Mother never waned. Through the beatings and the neglect he never even considered his Mother responsible. He realized that what he was experiencing was child abuse but if he told the school he thought he might be taken away from his Mother and he could not handle that.
He wanted the old days back of sharing a bed with his Mother and taking long car rides from Mission Viejo, where they lived, to his Grandmother’s house in Woodland Hills. Tony watched his Mother get abused, and thought, and felt, that with Burt, it was his turn. He was waiting for a divorce but his Mother asked him before Burt moved in if it was OK with him. He bit his tongue and said ‘yes’. He knew his Mother wasn’t happy alone and didn’t want to deprive her of the chance to have a companion, but Tony HATED this man, Burt.
Tony had friends at school that invited him to come to their house. His Mom, and Burt, allowed him to go. He experienced how a loving family looked. He saw his friend do things that would get him beat at home and was blown away that they weren’t. That just made his resentment grow. Coming home after that made him angry at everything.He played with his toy cars in the dirt with another kid in the apartment and that would take his mind off things for a minute. Tony took the trash out and this time sacrificed all his blessings in life from God if he would just save him from a beating tonight. He thought that if other kids were getting beat like him, they are dealing with it with commendably. But he knew other kids
weren’t getting treated like he did. Tony wasn’t very social and the feeling of shame was something that stuck and he just got used to. But he never said anything to anyone.
One time Tony walked 7 miles to the apartment because Burt said that if he wasn’t at the pick up spot at 5 on the dot he had to walk home. Tony was five minutes late but Burt was 20. When Tony got to home the door was locked so he walked around the back to see if the car was there and they were pulling up, Mom with her head in her hands, crying. They went to the school and nobody knew where Tony was, his Mom thought his Father had kidnapped him. He told them he was just doing what Burt told him. His mother held him tight and kissed his head. He hadn’t been touched by his Mother in a week. He was 8 years old.
He often heard the sound of them having sex. Tony would watch, praying for a sibling, he didn’t get off on it and thought that it was peculiar that he was drawn to it. But he was. Burt caught him out of the corner of his eye. Tony ran back to his room, his Mom came in and yelled at him then brought him out to Burt. Burt got him and pinned him to the ground by his neck. He began yelling and popped him with his other hand in the face. He told him to go to his teacher and tell her what he did, he made him tell his Grandmother, he wanted to humiliate him and did a great job. The drop of self-esteem he still had was now gone.His Father was picking him up on weekends but that all stopped along with the child support. when he turned 9. He had been pleasuring himself since he was 7 and did it whenever he got the chance.
Tony went to summer camp. This was great, Tony had some joy, part of the year. Holidays were marked with arguing, yelling and drunkeness. When Burt got really drunk a lot of the time he would forget to torture Tony. Tony was all too glad to get him another beer. Then Burt would be nice to him, Tony would try to agree with him in everything he said creating a personality that wasn’t genuine. Tony was learning to be fake as a matter of survival. He saw his Mother doing it, too. She was becoming someone that Tony didn’t recognize. Tony would stay up late past the time that Burt went to bed to get a chance to see his Mother revert back to herself. After the chores were done she would sit down to watch her TV shows and Tony could talk to his Mom. He would just enjoy her company and never spoke his mind about how he hated Burt because he didn’t want to take anything from his Mother. But he knew his Mother and he would bring up subjects that would get her talking so he could stay up later. He would manipulate his Mom but not take anything from her.
Visiting Grandma, Tony thought she would call Mom on having that abused her son, but Burt was a chief manipulator and changed when they had company or visited Grandma.He became a considerate, attentive person. Tony knew it was bullshit and most of the time just stayed out of sight. At Grandma’s that meant roaming around the trailer park alone, and playing pool at the recreation room, alone. Tony had a lot of time to think and became depressed, he questioned why he was caught in this jam. He didn’t see what his Mother saw, in this man. He was very demanding toward Mom and would yell if he didn’t get his way.
Then Burt tightened the noose around Tony and his Mother’s neck by getting her pregnant. Now his Mother definitely wasn’t going anywhere. Their chance to escape was gone, then Burt married Tony’s Mom. She was glowing and Tony could see genuine happiness on her face, which, in turn, made Tony feel happy. He didn’t know if his Mother felt it, but Tony was still attached to his Mom, like when they shared a bed, and could feel her feelings. They were intertwined and Burt could feel that upon entering their home. He was trying to pull the strands apart, Tony knew this but would never just give up and let him have her, he would endure beatings, cope with self-esteem draining castigation, it didn’t matter, Tony would not let go. He didn’t know he was doing it. It was all instinctual.
Burt acted like it was his mission in life to stomp Tony out, thus releasing his Mother so he could have her all to himself. Like a male lion coming into a pride and killing all the male offspring as to ensure the continuation of his lineage. Burt was a very primal man but didn’t even know it, not that it mattered to Tony. He was in the middle of it, inhaling the second hand smoke that settled into a layer about waist high in the living room. The drive from his school to his Mother’s work everyday was particularly tense. If anything went wrong the night before, Burt would continue it then. When Tony was caught spying when they were having sex, Burt stopped in a neighborhood along the way and made him get out of the car, sit in the grass and write what he thought the word “fuck” meant. This was psychological abuse.
What hurt Tony the most was the inaction of his Mother. She never told Burt to stop yelling at her son, or to put down that belt. And Tony always gave her a pass, she was never responsible. She never did anything wrong. He knew how scared he was of him and figured that she was just as scared. So, even though she was sitting in the same room watching him get scolded unjustly with the most hurtful words he could formulate, she was not in the wrong.He always took his punishment like a man, alone and standing, never begging for mercy from a man not capable of it anyway.
Tony’s Mother worked through her pregnancy because if she didn’t, the household would break down financially. Tony was well aware of the family’s financial troubles as Burt and Mom would always discuss their problems on the way home from work with Tony in the back seat. But Burt always had beer and cigarettes, that was non-negotiable. Tony remembers eating beans from a can using a pocket knife as a spoon when they first moved into an apartment with Burt. Tony’s father quit paying child-support soon thereafter.
Mom kept getting bigger and bigger. Tony thought his Mother looked beautiful pregnant, she was glowing like a light bulb. One of those nights when Tony kept his Mom talking so he could stay up later, he asked her what her dream was when she was young. She told him her dream was to have children and make a family. Tony didn’t really believe her, a dream as simple as that? But she said that was the truth, seriously, but Tony couldn’t believe that her dream was to have him when she let someone beat her dream and antagonize her dream. It didn’t make sense. But Tony didn’t question her, his love was unconditional.
Mom learned that her baby would be a girl. Tony didn’t care either way, he was hoping that a baby that he took part in making would soften up Burt. Mom seemed very happy to be having a girl. One boy and one girl, it sounded perfect. Tony’s Mom didn’t need classes, it
wasn’t her first rodeo. She made her own maternity clothes, a talent that was necessary as they couldn’t afford clothes for a pregnant wife either. But they had beer.
August 20, 1982 Tony’s Mom gave birth to her baby girl and named her Lauren. When Burt brought her home from the hospital everyone in the apartment was outside to welcome her. Tony didn’t know that they knew who they were, much less cared that she had a new baby. Tony was impressed and proud. His little sister drew people out of their apartments and she wasn’t even a week old. Tony became his Mothers right hand man, eager to be part of his Mothers dream. He learned to change diapers, how to hold a newborn, how to make them stop crying, how to feed them and Burt learned nothing. He didn’t take part in any of the fatherly duties. He just sat in his spot, an Ottoman that he had basically worn a hole in from his ass, in his boxers, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Nothing changed for Burt, yet everything changed for Tony and his Mother. She had two weeks of maternity leave and Tony stayed home from school for a few days right after she came home from the hospital. He loved those days. Just him and his Mother with little Lauren. He bonded with his sister almost instantly, it only took one deep gaze into her eyes and he was hooked. He was extremely happy that she came into his life which was devoid of joy until then. He was 9 years old.
They found a babysitter named Norma who was in her sixties and loved what she did. Every morning they would drive to her house and Tony, his Mom and Burt would go inside and sit for a minute. Norma would serve Tony’s Mom and Burt coffee and Tony would watch Scooby-Doo on television. Norma had changed her house into a place for a baby. She child-proofed everything and made all the colors baby blue or little girl pink. She was a great babysitter.
Fourth grade was not a good year for Tony. There was a day that he came to school with a stiff neck. Taught not to complain, he didn’t say anything to his teacher, yet he couldn’t turn his head at all. He went through the day in intense pain but didn’t say anything to anyone.
He hadn’t really discovered little girls yet but had discovered women a long time ago. He had a crush on a teacher in third grade that wasn’t even in his class. In fourth grade there was yet another teacher that wasn’t his that he had a crush on. He would spot them from across the school yard coming to get their kids to go back to class. But Tony got sick, really sick and his teacher made a spot for him to lay down at the back of the class. When he woke the lights were off and everyone was gone. He should of stayed home but they thought Tony was still too young to stay home alone and his Mom couldn’t take off of work just for him, Burt wouldn’t allow it.
He could not wait to get out of school and see Lauren. She was light and Tony needed to see some of that every once in a while. He and his Mother enjoyed helping each other taking care of the needs that Lauren had. Protecting the soft spot on her head was Tony’s priority. He didn’t like the fact that her brain was so close to such a violent world.
Tony was just barely passing his classes and most of the time only so he could play sports, which he played every season, football, basketball, baseball. He got really close to one of his coaches whom he talked to a lot. Tony knew how to talk to adults. One day when Burt anticipated being late, Tony’s coach, Craig, offered to take him home. Craig had it checked out by the necessary people and gave him a ride, Tony was the navigator as he knew the quickest way to get there having been driven around enough by Burt. Craig remarked to Tony that this was a “pretty long chug”, Tony brushed it off like it was nothing, but it was a very long”chug”, and Tony was wiped out when he got home. That semester Craig marked on Tony’s report card that he was a”good human being”. Tony’s Mom was proud but really had no idea why he was saying that. Tony never spoke of the hardships he endured while talking to Craig. He just shot the shit with the man and Craig appreciated him. Burt never looked at Tony’s report card. He made it no secret that he didn’t care for Tony. He didn’t even pretend, saving everyone the unnecessary need to decode his actions.
His own child did nothing to soften up Burt, he was just as abusive as before. Tony noticed this and knew it was because he hadn’t looked into Lauren’s eyes, because if he did, he would be a changed man, as he was. Tony still wanted out of this mess of a life he had, Lauren couldn’t change that, it was way too deep for anyone to touch.
Tony was set to graduate elementary school, he knew that next year he would have a whole new set of friends. This saddened him as he knew that his mother would not be paying for private junior high. He would be going to public school and would have a whole new set of hurdles to overcome.
He would likely be exposed to violence at school and drugs. Burt didn’t think he would make it and joked about it scaring his mother into finding an address they could use so Tony could go to public school in a better area. They were living in the ghetto and Burt told her that Tony would get beat up because he was too soft. So, Tony would be going to school in an area far away from where they lived preventing Tony from having any friends out of school just like he did throughout elementary. Tony didn’t have any friends out of school, not one, and it was stunting his social growth.
Tony’s graduation brought together all the parents that were from different income brackets. The students got to see where their family ranked. Tony already knew, they were poor, poorer than the average at Pinecrest.
Their attire really said everything. Tony was in a cheap polyester, institutional blue suit with a white shirt and a white tie. Tony hated this.He knew that having no contrast between the shirt and tie did not work, but he couldn’t say anything because he already knew what Burt would say. He was ungrateful and a rotten kid for being so. Tony had had just about enough of this and was looking forward to getting out.
Tony was tired of being a rotten kid and trying to please a man that hated him.He found a way out that he should have thought of years ago. Tony had a bottle of Tylenol that he shop-lifted from the grocery store. As a graduation present to himself he was going to get out of this jam once and for all and go to a place where nobody could hit him or call him names ever again.
He walked across the stage, hugged the principal, and said ‘good-bye’. Tony was 12 years old.
Tony at age 7 had been raised primarily by women, with his mother or at his grandmother’s house. Tony had a bad feeling any time a man would come into play. When his Grandfather came home from work he felt that the fun was over. Tony’s Grandfather was a kind man. The stain was already there and it would never be erased. Tony hated men and his Mother’s new beau would do nothing but reinforce that.
The third time was no charm for his mother, nonetheless she would welcome a man into their home that Tony immediately felt despised him. Always calling him names and ordering him around.
The man drank a lot, smoked a lot and had a wooden leg.Tony had this whimsical notion that handicapped people were nice, having to struggle with extra limitations and deal with pain.With Burt, he was learning otherwise.
His Mother met him at a friend’s house in the apartment directly across from theirs. They would all drink heavily, smoke pot and tease their kids; of which the friend has three. They were tougher than Tony and seemed to get a lot of beatings. Their Mother talked about times when she beat her kids as if it were a joke. Tony was not accustomed to abuse as his Mother never laid a hand on him because Tony was a good boy. Not a kiss ass, just an honest kid who knew the right thing to do and did it. The only time he was bad was when he hung around other kids who coerced him. Tony was gullible, easy to trust, not having experience with getting taken advantage of, yet. Tony’s Mom was the same, gullible as the day is long. She was the butt of jokes at her friends house, even from her new man, Burt.
Tony remembers the first time Burt caught him doing wrong. The group of kids that Tony was hanging out with set up a little girl to get in trouble with her parents. When she got caught, all the kids went around to her bedroom window to listen to her get beat by her Dad. Burt was sitting in his red ‘64 Mustang drinking beer and smoking cigars. When he got back in the apartment he told Tony’s Mom and convinced her that he needed a beating. She complied, being her gullible self, that was the initiation of them both to his beatings.
Burt soon would sell that car, so they could move into an apartment together, he would use that as fuel in arguments for years to come.
Tony went to private school. A school that his father was paying for until he stopped. His Mom and Burt took up payments so he could finish elementary school. School started being Tony’s refuge. Home took on the feeling of a concentration camp, not that he knew what that was like but if he were to imagine, it would be home. He felt his every move was under scrutiny, his room was his sanctuary. He was constantly being yelled at, to get Burt a beer, the way he was sitting and always being called a sissy and/or a faggot. His self-esteem took a downward spiral, day in, day out getting criticized about everything little thing. He was never right. In the morning they could do nothing to him that would compare to what he went through the night before.
There never seemed to be enough money to buy school supplies and clothes, but the refrigerator was always full of beer and enough cigarettes to support a four pack a day habit. Tony felt like a fifth wheel and didn’t understand why his Mom had given birth to a son, he
didn’t want to be alive anymore.
Third grade was the first complete grade that Burt was in the house. And the first that he thought about suicide or murder. He would sleep walk at night and there was a period where he was afraid to go to sleep, for fear that he would go to the kitchen, grab a butcher’s knife and kill Burt. He was scared because he thought he might kill his Mother, too, unable to control his rage. His love for his Mother never waned. Through the beatings and the neglect he never even considered his Mother responsible. He realized that what he was experiencing was child abuse but if he told the school he thought he might be taken away from his Mother and he could not handle that.
He wanted the old days back of sharing a bed with his Mother and taking long car rides from Mission Viejo, where they lived, to his Grandmother’s house in Woodland Hills. Tony watched his Mother get abused, and thought, and felt, that with Burt, it was his turn. He was waiting for a divorce but his Mother asked him before Burt moved in if it was OK with him. He bit his tongue and said ‘yes’. He knew his Mother wasn’t happy alone and didn’t want to deprive her of the chance to have a companion, but Tony HATED this man, Burt.
Tony had friends at school that invited him to come to their house. His Mom, and Burt, allowed him to go. He experienced how a loving family looked. He saw his friend do things that would get him beat at home and was blown away that they weren’t. That just made his resentment grow. Coming home after that made him angry at everything.He played with his toy cars in the dirt with another kid in the apartment and that would take his mind off things for a minute. Tony took the trash out and this time sacrificed all his blessings in life from God if he would just save him from a beating tonight. He thought that if other kids were getting beat like him, they are dealing with it with commendably. But he knew other kids
weren’t getting treated like he did. Tony wasn’t very social and the feeling of shame was something that stuck and he just got used to. But he never said anything to anyone.
One time Tony walked 7 miles to the apartment because Burt said that if he wasn’t at the pick up spot at 5 on the dot he had to walk home. Tony was five minutes late but Burt was 20. When Tony got to home the door was locked so he walked around the back to see if the car was there and they were pulling up, Mom with her head in her hands, crying. They went to the school and nobody knew where Tony was, his Mom thought his Father had kidnapped him. He told them he was just doing what Burt told him. His mother held him tight and kissed his head. He hadn’t been touched by his Mother in a week. He was 8 years old.
He often heard the sound of them having sex. Tony would watch, praying for a sibling, he didn’t get off on it and thought that it was peculiar that he was drawn to it. But he was. Burt caught him out of the corner of his eye. Tony ran back to his room, his Mom came in and yelled at him then brought him out to Burt. Burt got him and pinned him to the ground by his neck. He began yelling and popped him with his other hand in the face. He told him to go to his teacher and tell her what he did, he made him tell his Grandmother, he wanted to humiliate him and did a great job. The drop of self-esteem he still had was now gone.His Father was picking him up on weekends but that all stopped along with the child support. when he turned 9. He had been pleasuring himself since he was 7 and did it whenever he got the chance.
Tony went to summer camp. This was great, Tony had some joy, part of the year. Holidays were marked with arguing, yelling and drunkeness. When Burt got really drunk a lot of the time he would forget to torture Tony. Tony was all too glad to get him another beer. Then Burt would be nice to him, Tony would try to agree with him in everything he said creating a personality that wasn’t genuine. Tony was learning to be fake as a matter of survival. He saw his Mother doing it, too. She was becoming someone that Tony didn’t recognize. Tony would stay up late past the time that Burt went to bed to get a chance to see his Mother revert back to herself. After the chores were done she would sit down to watch her TV shows and Tony could talk to his Mom. He would just enjoy her company and never spoke his mind about how he hated Burt because he didn’t want to take anything from his Mother. But he knew his Mother and he would bring up subjects that would get her talking so he could stay up later. He would manipulate his Mom but not take anything from her.
Visiting Grandma, Tony thought she would call Mom on having that abused her son, but Burt was a chief manipulator and changed when they had company or visited Grandma.He became a considerate, attentive person. Tony knew it was bullshit and most of the time just stayed out of sight. At Grandma’s that meant roaming around the trailer park alone, and playing pool at the recreation room, alone. Tony had a lot of time to think and became depressed, he questioned why he was caught in this jam. He didn’t see what his Mother saw, in this man. He was very demanding toward Mom and would yell if he didn’t get his way.
Then Burt tightened the noose around Tony and his Mother’s neck by getting her pregnant. Now his Mother definitely wasn’t going anywhere. Their chance to escape was gone, then Burt married Tony’s Mom. She was glowing and Tony could see genuine happiness on her face, which, in turn, made Tony feel happy. He didn’t know if his Mother felt it, but Tony was still attached to his Mom, like when they shared a bed, and could feel her feelings. They were intertwined and Burt could feel that upon entering their home. He was trying to pull the strands apart, Tony knew this but would never just give up and let him have her, he would endure beatings, cope with self-esteem draining castigation, it didn’t matter, Tony would not let go. He didn’t know he was doing it. It was all instinctual.
Burt acted like it was his mission in life to stomp Tony out, thus releasing his Mother so he could have her all to himself. Like a male lion coming into a pride and killing all the male offspring as to ensure the continuation of his lineage. Burt was a very primal man but didn’t even know it, not that it mattered to Tony. He was in the middle of it, inhaling the second hand smoke that settled into a layer about waist high in the living room. The drive from his school to his Mother’s work everyday was particularly tense. If anything went wrong the night before, Burt would continue it then. When Tony was caught spying when they were having sex, Burt stopped in a neighborhood along the way and made him get out of the car, sit in the grass and write what he thought the word “fuck” meant. This was psychological abuse.
What hurt Tony the most was the inaction of his Mother. She never told Burt to stop yelling at her son, or to put down that belt. And Tony always gave her a pass, she was never responsible. She never did anything wrong. He knew how scared he was of him and figured that she was just as scared. So, even though she was sitting in the same room watching him get scolded unjustly with the most hurtful words he could formulate, she was not in the wrong.He always took his punishment like a man, alone and standing, never begging for mercy from a man not capable of it anyway.
Tony’s Mother worked through her pregnancy because if she didn’t, the household would break down financially. Tony was well aware of the family’s financial troubles as Burt and Mom would always discuss their problems on the way home from work with Tony in the back seat. But Burt always had beer and cigarettes, that was non-negotiable. Tony remembers eating beans from a can using a pocket knife as a spoon when they first moved into an apartment with Burt. Tony’s father quit paying child-support soon thereafter.
Mom kept getting bigger and bigger. Tony thought his Mother looked beautiful pregnant, she was glowing like a light bulb. One of those nights when Tony kept his Mom talking so he could stay up later, he asked her what her dream was when she was young. She told him her dream was to have children and make a family. Tony didn’t really believe her, a dream as simple as that? But she said that was the truth, seriously, but Tony couldn’t believe that her dream was to have him when she let someone beat her dream and antagonize her dream. It didn’t make sense. But Tony didn’t question her, his love was unconditional.
Mom learned that her baby would be a girl. Tony didn’t care either way, he was hoping that a baby that he took part in making would soften up Burt. Mom seemed very happy to be having a girl. One boy and one girl, it sounded perfect. Tony’s Mom didn’t need classes, it
wasn’t her first rodeo. She made her own maternity clothes, a talent that was necessary as they couldn’t afford clothes for a pregnant wife either. But they had beer.
August 20, 1982 Tony’s Mom gave birth to her baby girl and named her Lauren. When Burt brought her home from the hospital everyone in the apartment was outside to welcome her. Tony didn’t know that they knew who they were, much less cared that she had a new baby. Tony was impressed and proud. His little sister drew people out of their apartments and she wasn’t even a week old. Tony became his Mothers right hand man, eager to be part of his Mothers dream. He learned to change diapers, how to hold a newborn, how to make them stop crying, how to feed them and Burt learned nothing. He didn’t take part in any of the fatherly duties. He just sat in his spot, an Ottoman that he had basically worn a hole in from his ass, in his boxers, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Nothing changed for Burt, yet everything changed for Tony and his Mother. She had two weeks of maternity leave and Tony stayed home from school for a few days right after she came home from the hospital. He loved those days. Just him and his Mother with little Lauren. He bonded with his sister almost instantly, it only took one deep gaze into her eyes and he was hooked. He was extremely happy that she came into his life which was devoid of joy until then. He was 9 years old.
They found a babysitter named Norma who was in her sixties and loved what she did. Every morning they would drive to her house and Tony, his Mom and Burt would go inside and sit for a minute. Norma would serve Tony’s Mom and Burt coffee and Tony would watch Scooby-Doo on television. Norma had changed her house into a place for a baby. She child-proofed everything and made all the colors baby blue or little girl pink. She was a great babysitter.
Fourth grade was not a good year for Tony. There was a day that he came to school with a stiff neck. Taught not to complain, he didn’t say anything to his teacher, yet he couldn’t turn his head at all. He went through the day in intense pain but didn’t say anything to anyone.
He hadn’t really discovered little girls yet but had discovered women a long time ago. He had a crush on a teacher in third grade that wasn’t even in his class. In fourth grade there was yet another teacher that wasn’t his that he had a crush on. He would spot them from across the school yard coming to get their kids to go back to class. But Tony got sick, really sick and his teacher made a spot for him to lay down at the back of the class. When he woke the lights were off and everyone was gone. He should of stayed home but they thought Tony was still too young to stay home alone and his Mom couldn’t take off of work just for him, Burt wouldn’t allow it.
He could not wait to get out of school and see Lauren. She was light and Tony needed to see some of that every once in a while. He and his Mother enjoyed helping each other taking care of the needs that Lauren had. Protecting the soft spot on her head was Tony’s priority. He didn’t like the fact that her brain was so close to such a violent world.
Tony was just barely passing his classes and most of the time only so he could play sports, which he played every season, football, basketball, baseball. He got really close to one of his coaches whom he talked to a lot. Tony knew how to talk to adults. One day when Burt anticipated being late, Tony’s coach, Craig, offered to take him home. Craig had it checked out by the necessary people and gave him a ride, Tony was the navigator as he knew the quickest way to get there having been driven around enough by Burt. Craig remarked to Tony that this was a “pretty long chug”, Tony brushed it off like it was nothing, but it was a very long”chug”, and Tony was wiped out when he got home. That semester Craig marked on Tony’s report card that he was a”good human being”. Tony’s Mom was proud but really had no idea why he was saying that. Tony never spoke of the hardships he endured while talking to Craig. He just shot the shit with the man and Craig appreciated him. Burt never looked at Tony’s report card. He made it no secret that he didn’t care for Tony. He didn’t even pretend, saving everyone the unnecessary need to decode his actions.
His own child did nothing to soften up Burt, he was just as abusive as before. Tony noticed this and knew it was because he hadn’t looked into Lauren’s eyes, because if he did, he would be a changed man, as he was. Tony still wanted out of this mess of a life he had, Lauren couldn’t change that, it was way too deep for anyone to touch.
Tony was set to graduate elementary school, he knew that next year he would have a whole new set of friends. This saddened him as he knew that his mother would not be paying for private junior high. He would be going to public school and would have a whole new set of hurdles to overcome.
He would likely be exposed to violence at school and drugs. Burt didn’t think he would make it and joked about it scaring his mother into finding an address they could use so Tony could go to public school in a better area. They were living in the ghetto and Burt told her that Tony would get beat up because he was too soft. So, Tony would be going to school in an area far away from where they lived preventing Tony from having any friends out of school just like he did throughout elementary. Tony didn’t have any friends out of school, not one, and it was stunting his social growth.
Tony’s graduation brought together all the parents that were from different income brackets. The students got to see where their family ranked. Tony already knew, they were poor, poorer than the average at Pinecrest.
Their attire really said everything. Tony was in a cheap polyester, institutional blue suit with a white shirt and a white tie. Tony hated this.He knew that having no contrast between the shirt and tie did not work, but he couldn’t say anything because he already knew what Burt would say. He was ungrateful and a rotten kid for being so. Tony had had just about enough of this and was looking forward to getting out.
Tony was tired of being a rotten kid and trying to please a man that hated him.He found a way out that he should have thought of years ago. Tony had a bottle of Tylenol that he shop-lifted from the grocery store. As a graduation present to himself he was going to get out of this jam once and for all and go to a place where nobody could hit him or call him names ever again.
He walked across the stage, hugged the principal, and said ‘good-bye’. Tony was 12 years old.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Pledge alligiance?
Tonight the US government has shut down, unable to agree on how to divide the money in the petty cash box beneath the Senate majority leaders oak and velvet seat. Squabbling over funds that really aren’t theirs to begin with. We are floating on a magic carpet that would put Alladin to shame. Closing our eyes and extending ourselves across oceans to beg for another hit from countries that we were locked in a psychological with 20 years ago. Promising that we’re going to do well this time, that we have it figured out when the only people that have us figured out are the one’s trying to, and succeeding in, killing us.
We come into this world with blinders on and a dollar bill that dangles in front of us. Nobody explains why and we don’t figure it out until we are young adults and finally push our minds out of the matrix and see the strings being pulled that manipulate us all, like Dorothy in Oz. Some just pretend that it’s not true or that they never saw but when they but when they chose the path of denial and become a cog in the wheel of the me,me,me contest. They must feel the hairs on the backs of their necks stand up when they make a wrong turn and drive their shiny BMW’s through skid row or see hungry, dying children on their spirit guide, television.
It’s a dog eat dog world and we always and we seem to always end up with the bone, never sharing a lick or a sniff. Others keep wanting to switch that bone for a stick of dynamite and be rid of our imperialist march that tends to mow down peoples and cultures in it’s way. We didn’t stand on shoulders to reach this precipice, we stood on ashen skulls leaving behind apocalyptic darkness of Bruegel’s Triumph of Death in our wake.
Being the top dog, there is only one way to go. And the slide down will be fraught with bumps and scrapes from those that once existed below us. There is a possibility we won’t survive and fade into history, becoming a myth like Troy but not half as gallant.We will be forced to liquidate our assets, selling off hot merchandise to their rightful owner. There is something seriously wrong with this picture. We are being allowed to dance around and act like big shots when there’s someone on the sideline just waiting until we have gone just far enough out that our rubber band of confidence loses in elasticity and then BOOM we are property of a greater nation. Sun Tzu’s Art of War was written 100 years ago, yet we are slowly getting caught in a web that
I’m afraid will pervade every aspect of our society.
What we can do is back peddle like a gossip girl at prom and demonstrate some humility for all the nations we raped. And they are many. We need to give back the advantage that we took all these years. Other countries conserve better than us because, for them, it’s a matter of life and death. And it’s a death that we greasing the slope for.
We come into this world with blinders on and a dollar bill that dangles in front of us. Nobody explains why and we don’t figure it out until we are young adults and finally push our minds out of the matrix and see the strings being pulled that manipulate us all, like Dorothy in Oz. Some just pretend that it’s not true or that they never saw but when they but when they chose the path of denial and become a cog in the wheel of the me,me,me contest. They must feel the hairs on the backs of their necks stand up when they make a wrong turn and drive their shiny BMW’s through skid row or see hungry, dying children on their spirit guide, television.
It’s a dog eat dog world and we always and we seem to always end up with the bone, never sharing a lick or a sniff. Others keep wanting to switch that bone for a stick of dynamite and be rid of our imperialist march that tends to mow down peoples and cultures in it’s way. We didn’t stand on shoulders to reach this precipice, we stood on ashen skulls leaving behind apocalyptic darkness of Bruegel’s Triumph of Death in our wake.
Being the top dog, there is only one way to go. And the slide down will be fraught with bumps and scrapes from those that once existed below us. There is a possibility we won’t survive and fade into history, becoming a myth like Troy but not half as gallant.We will be forced to liquidate our assets, selling off hot merchandise to their rightful owner. There is something seriously wrong with this picture. We are being allowed to dance around and act like big shots when there’s someone on the sideline just waiting until we have gone just far enough out that our rubber band of confidence loses in elasticity and then BOOM we are property of a greater nation. Sun Tzu’s Art of War was written 100 years ago, yet we are slowly getting caught in a web that
I’m afraid will pervade every aspect of our society.
What we can do is back peddle like a gossip girl at prom and demonstrate some humility for all the nations we raped. And they are many. We need to give back the advantage that we took all these years. Other countries conserve better than us because, for them, it’s a matter of life and death. And it’s a death that we greasing the slope for.
Monday, September 16, 2013
My Beef
It’s a timed execution, a death row for the soul, a mass conspiracy with lives. It’s disgusting to realize once you’re inside, a prisoner of a virus that will never subside. In films like, “House of Numbers” the virus is contested to even exist. Also in the film, some Scientists claim it was created and not discovered. But ridiculously expensive medication became available to extend the lives of the afflicted. It seems to be a gift. But the medication does not cure, only controls the progression. Quality of life does not elevate for the sick, just keeps them alive, while corporate executives fly company jets around the country and world paid for by developed countries that can afford to supply their sick with the medication.
A month supply of the cocktail of pills can cost nearly 10 thousand dollars or more. AIDS is a formidable foe. Being diagnosed with AIDS from the start, I didn’t know what that meant. But it’s a numbers game, a cell count that makes no sense at first. Once your T cell count drops below 200, you have AIDS and it doesn’t matter if they rise above at a later point. Once you have AIDS, you always have it. And having it makes you suseptible to any and all illnesses around. Thrush got me diagnosed in the ER, where I was told that I had 18 months to live, Meningitis followed a couple years down the road and Pneumonia has become as familiar to me as the flu is to the majority of the population.
One such time, Pneumonia had me comatose and in the hospital for a month. Due to lack of oxygen to my brain, I had dementia. When I came to, I remember coming through a light so bright that I could not see through it. But I did hear the doctor say, “Mike,do you know where you are?” as I would imagine an alien abductee to hear once they reach the space ship. My guess was the last hospital I had been to but it was way off nevertheless. I thought that the doctor had a surgery lamp on me. I highly doubt that was true. I was only comatose for a matter of hours so the rest of the month I remained in a frighteningly demented state. The nurses assistant visited all day and would continuously tell me her name but I couldn’t remember it, even if she told me a mere hour before. Having dementia, is not a comfortable state of bliss, it’s like watching a movie that started before you arrived and is now playing at a rate your eyes nor mind can follow. My Mother visited often, with my sisters, and brought me a notebook, knowing my proclivity for writing but I was so confused I was making notes to get in touch with people that weren’t in my life anymore. And then my right foot was on fire and I didn’t know why. When the physical therapist came in I would scream when he tried to put a sock on it. I wanted to ask the doctor what was wrong and I tried hard to remember but the doctor only came in to see me in the middle of the night. Not knowing what was wrong, I tried to get out of bed and go to the bathroom, I planted my left foot and then tried to step with my right but it didn’t move. I fell hard, smacking my head on the solid hospital floor leaving a lump on my forehead. Late one night the nurses had received an order to bind me to the bed, so they came in and began to tie me to the bed and put a diaper on me. I fought hard. Traumatized, I was fighting for my life. In my mental state I didn’t understand, nor would I allow a diaper to be put on me. When my Mother came to visit, I would beg her to untie me but she never did. Soon enough I would learn to untie them myself but I never remained free for very long as the nurses kept a close eye on me and would re-tie my lashings.
Fresh out of drug rehab, I was having dreams that I had a bag of Crystal Meth on me and kept trying to get anyone, nurses, housekeepers, it didn’t matter, to give my a syringe from the dirty needle container that I saw on the wall. That only stopped when I asked my Mother and was yelled at by my eldest sister. In my demented state I was sleeping and having dreams with my eyes open. Waking was like seeing a painting come to life before your eyes. Later my Mother would tell me that my doctor told her that I might not come back fully. In my demented state, a nurses assistant was flirting with me, telling me how her boyfriend treated her bad over and over. But she stopped my hand when I attempted to palm her breast, I called her a cock tease as I watched that nice full butt walk out of my room.
I was discharged to the first of many nursing homes I would visit. There I had to get used to walking with a cane, never getting an answer to what was wrong. The week long stay seemed like a month, my mind not yet recovering it’s integrity. Appalled by the treatment of the elderly I had a sit down with the administrator and tried hard but failed to articulate my concerns. I couldn’t stand the way my roommate treated his unappreciated wife, so I wandered the halls and slept minimally in the foyer by the television, watching a show called Insomniac. My mother came to visit daily, alone, and unbeknownst to me was fighting hard to get me into a home for people with HIV. She succeeded after calling everyday, basically being unrelenting, making my name known.
At this home I was introduced to a clinic and a doctor who put me on my first cocktail of pills with side effects ranging from diarrhea to nausea and headaches. Fortunately, I never experienced any of these. I attribute this to my hard drinking ways before I got sick. And the dementia slowly went away. After a battery of tests and many MRI’s a doctor from UCLA said he could not see any trauma to my spine but told me that I would never walk again. I had finally began to be able to remember peoples names and could probably find my way home only to have a doctor I did not know, tell me I was never going to walk again. At that point I almost preferred the confusion. Although the doctors could not find any trauma to my spine I knew that I had hurt myself after a fall from a billboard while high on drugs and my disease just exacerbated it. Which is why I can not walk and am now in a wheelchair. And a relationship began that still exists today with a pharmacy that loves me and has actually sent me a Birthday gift consisting of Calvin Klein products, these people do not know me and haven’t taken the time but because of the near 10 thousand dollar medication regimen that is gifted to me by my doctor.
The pharmaceutical industry exists to keeps my head above water, to support their families and the lobbyist that pay off politicians that make sure to keep undercover a cure. My doctor is just doing her job and I love her for it, she makes me feel like a human being and won’t let me fall through the cracks even when I’ve raised my arms preparing for the inevitable downhill of this rollercoaster and she’s only doing what Scientists profess to be the truth. It is with those scientists with whom I have beef. Their explanations of what this virus is and how it got into the human population seems far fetched, at best, and a outright lie to many. How can a society that can discover the theory of relativity not be able to solve the problem of a virus? Unless the virus is so foreign and unnatural that it was created by Dr.Gallo and not discovered. Conspiracy theories always seem wild and spouted by a crazy person. But this theory is shouted from mountain tops by many people, many of which are scientists.
And the pharmaceutical companies should be ashamed of themselves. There are very few generic AIDS medications and there effectiveness is debated , which is why so many are dying in Africa. They cannot afford the proven medications available in the United States and other developed nations. If I had to pay for my medication out of my pocket, I would be dead. But the government knows that, so they make sure that they pay for it. They make sure that the pharmaceutical companies get their money so they can afford to pay the lobbyist that pays them right back in the end. It’s a vicious circle that consists of jeweled cuff linked hands with suffering empty pockets in the middle without whom the circle would just be men holding hands. They contain us like they would a secret oil well or diamond mine. The definition of AIDS is political and very convoluted. Some say it was a reason for the CDC to get funding since there was no existing marketable disease after polio. There are more than 12 definitions of AIDS worldwide. The definition of AIDS in America is different than the one in South Africa, in America it’s just a name that is a level of illness that insures government benefits. Yeah, our government throws us some pennies while they make million off of us. I’ve had friends with one T-cell who spend their entire U.S. Treasury check on drugs because their quality of life is so low, many are living in shelters surrounded by strangers. Many lose their own family due to this disease. Just because this disease is 30 years old doesn’t mean that ignorance has ceased to exist. There is so much confusion and discrepancies in diagnosing HIV.
A man called The Berlin Patient was the first man in the world to be cured of HIV through a bone marrow/stem cell transplant. But, how available is this? Will Medicare pay for it? No way. There are cures out there but they are not front page news as they should be and they are not available in the birthplace of the disease, the United States. The Berlin patient bares that name for a reason. He now lives in the bay area but got his treatment overseas. the most advanced military country in the world could, but does not, spend the money necessary to develop a cure for political reasons. America lets my friends die for political reasons, keeps me in this wheelchair for POLICAL reasons, and forces me to buy my own lightweight wheelchair. How many other atrocities are allowed to propagate by the United States government? The truth is, sadly,we will never, ever, know, unless we all stand up and be not afraid to speak our minds, even when completely off base. It’ll throw them off when they try to follow. Your deaths in your family from all forms of cancer, your family that’s been denied food stamps while the head of the household figures and re-figures the family budget until they fall over in a heap of tears and sweat baffled as to the government’s reasoning, you, trying your get your child into a systematically Caucasian college system that never spelled your name right in any class, all twelve years of primary education and you, the one’s that literally puts food on our tables, yet get deported, degraded and mocked for doing so. No one can do everything but every one can do something. We CAN make a difference, but it’s going to take everyone of us to do it.
A month supply of the cocktail of pills can cost nearly 10 thousand dollars or more. AIDS is a formidable foe. Being diagnosed with AIDS from the start, I didn’t know what that meant. But it’s a numbers game, a cell count that makes no sense at first. Once your T cell count drops below 200, you have AIDS and it doesn’t matter if they rise above at a later point. Once you have AIDS, you always have it. And having it makes you suseptible to any and all illnesses around. Thrush got me diagnosed in the ER, where I was told that I had 18 months to live, Meningitis followed a couple years down the road and Pneumonia has become as familiar to me as the flu is to the majority of the population.
One such time, Pneumonia had me comatose and in the hospital for a month. Due to lack of oxygen to my brain, I had dementia. When I came to, I remember coming through a light so bright that I could not see through it. But I did hear the doctor say, “Mike,do you know where you are?” as I would imagine an alien abductee to hear once they reach the space ship. My guess was the last hospital I had been to but it was way off nevertheless. I thought that the doctor had a surgery lamp on me. I highly doubt that was true. I was only comatose for a matter of hours so the rest of the month I remained in a frighteningly demented state. The nurses assistant visited all day and would continuously tell me her name but I couldn’t remember it, even if she told me a mere hour before. Having dementia, is not a comfortable state of bliss, it’s like watching a movie that started before you arrived and is now playing at a rate your eyes nor mind can follow. My Mother visited often, with my sisters, and brought me a notebook, knowing my proclivity for writing but I was so confused I was making notes to get in touch with people that weren’t in my life anymore. And then my right foot was on fire and I didn’t know why. When the physical therapist came in I would scream when he tried to put a sock on it. I wanted to ask the doctor what was wrong and I tried hard to remember but the doctor only came in to see me in the middle of the night. Not knowing what was wrong, I tried to get out of bed and go to the bathroom, I planted my left foot and then tried to step with my right but it didn’t move. I fell hard, smacking my head on the solid hospital floor leaving a lump on my forehead. Late one night the nurses had received an order to bind me to the bed, so they came in and began to tie me to the bed and put a diaper on me. I fought hard. Traumatized, I was fighting for my life. In my mental state I didn’t understand, nor would I allow a diaper to be put on me. When my Mother came to visit, I would beg her to untie me but she never did. Soon enough I would learn to untie them myself but I never remained free for very long as the nurses kept a close eye on me and would re-tie my lashings.
Fresh out of drug rehab, I was having dreams that I had a bag of Crystal Meth on me and kept trying to get anyone, nurses, housekeepers, it didn’t matter, to give my a syringe from the dirty needle container that I saw on the wall. That only stopped when I asked my Mother and was yelled at by my eldest sister. In my demented state I was sleeping and having dreams with my eyes open. Waking was like seeing a painting come to life before your eyes. Later my Mother would tell me that my doctor told her that I might not come back fully. In my demented state, a nurses assistant was flirting with me, telling me how her boyfriend treated her bad over and over. But she stopped my hand when I attempted to palm her breast, I called her a cock tease as I watched that nice full butt walk out of my room.
I was discharged to the first of many nursing homes I would visit. There I had to get used to walking with a cane, never getting an answer to what was wrong. The week long stay seemed like a month, my mind not yet recovering it’s integrity. Appalled by the treatment of the elderly I had a sit down with the administrator and tried hard but failed to articulate my concerns. I couldn’t stand the way my roommate treated his unappreciated wife, so I wandered the halls and slept minimally in the foyer by the television, watching a show called Insomniac. My mother came to visit daily, alone, and unbeknownst to me was fighting hard to get me into a home for people with HIV. She succeeded after calling everyday, basically being unrelenting, making my name known.
At this home I was introduced to a clinic and a doctor who put me on my first cocktail of pills with side effects ranging from diarrhea to nausea and headaches. Fortunately, I never experienced any of these. I attribute this to my hard drinking ways before I got sick. And the dementia slowly went away. After a battery of tests and many MRI’s a doctor from UCLA said he could not see any trauma to my spine but told me that I would never walk again. I had finally began to be able to remember peoples names and could probably find my way home only to have a doctor I did not know, tell me I was never going to walk again. At that point I almost preferred the confusion. Although the doctors could not find any trauma to my spine I knew that I had hurt myself after a fall from a billboard while high on drugs and my disease just exacerbated it. Which is why I can not walk and am now in a wheelchair. And a relationship began that still exists today with a pharmacy that loves me and has actually sent me a Birthday gift consisting of Calvin Klein products, these people do not know me and haven’t taken the time but because of the near 10 thousand dollar medication regimen that is gifted to me by my doctor.
The pharmaceutical industry exists to keeps my head above water, to support their families and the lobbyist that pay off politicians that make sure to keep undercover a cure. My doctor is just doing her job and I love her for it, she makes me feel like a human being and won’t let me fall through the cracks even when I’ve raised my arms preparing for the inevitable downhill of this rollercoaster and she’s only doing what Scientists profess to be the truth. It is with those scientists with whom I have beef. Their explanations of what this virus is and how it got into the human population seems far fetched, at best, and a outright lie to many. How can a society that can discover the theory of relativity not be able to solve the problem of a virus? Unless the virus is so foreign and unnatural that it was created by Dr.Gallo and not discovered. Conspiracy theories always seem wild and spouted by a crazy person. But this theory is shouted from mountain tops by many people, many of which are scientists.
And the pharmaceutical companies should be ashamed of themselves. There are very few generic AIDS medications and there effectiveness is debated , which is why so many are dying in Africa. They cannot afford the proven medications available in the United States and other developed nations. If I had to pay for my medication out of my pocket, I would be dead. But the government knows that, so they make sure that they pay for it. They make sure that the pharmaceutical companies get their money so they can afford to pay the lobbyist that pays them right back in the end. It’s a vicious circle that consists of jeweled cuff linked hands with suffering empty pockets in the middle without whom the circle would just be men holding hands. They contain us like they would a secret oil well or diamond mine. The definition of AIDS is political and very convoluted. Some say it was a reason for the CDC to get funding since there was no existing marketable disease after polio. There are more than 12 definitions of AIDS worldwide. The definition of AIDS in America is different than the one in South Africa, in America it’s just a name that is a level of illness that insures government benefits. Yeah, our government throws us some pennies while they make million off of us. I’ve had friends with one T-cell who spend their entire U.S. Treasury check on drugs because their quality of life is so low, many are living in shelters surrounded by strangers. Many lose their own family due to this disease. Just because this disease is 30 years old doesn’t mean that ignorance has ceased to exist. There is so much confusion and discrepancies in diagnosing HIV.
A man called The Berlin Patient was the first man in the world to be cured of HIV through a bone marrow/stem cell transplant. But, how available is this? Will Medicare pay for it? No way. There are cures out there but they are not front page news as they should be and they are not available in the birthplace of the disease, the United States. The Berlin patient bares that name for a reason. He now lives in the bay area but got his treatment overseas. the most advanced military country in the world could, but does not, spend the money necessary to develop a cure for political reasons. America lets my friends die for political reasons, keeps me in this wheelchair for POLICAL reasons, and forces me to buy my own lightweight wheelchair. How many other atrocities are allowed to propagate by the United States government? The truth is, sadly,we will never, ever, know, unless we all stand up and be not afraid to speak our minds, even when completely off base. It’ll throw them off when they try to follow. Your deaths in your family from all forms of cancer, your family that’s been denied food stamps while the head of the household figures and re-figures the family budget until they fall over in a heap of tears and sweat baffled as to the government’s reasoning, you, trying your get your child into a systematically Caucasian college system that never spelled your name right in any class, all twelve years of primary education and you, the one’s that literally puts food on our tables, yet get deported, degraded and mocked for doing so. No one can do everything but every one can do something. We CAN make a difference, but it’s going to take everyone of us to do it.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Journal entry to my niece
8/26/2013
Last night, I slept deeper than I have in a very long time when a nurse came in to give me medication. Earlier that night I was talking to a fellow patient about the reality of being at the mercy of the government when it came to our ailments. I then told him that I have HIV, which is really a half truth, since I really have AIDS. And I told him that they(the government) are keeping me alive with pills just to make money. They definitely do not want a cure. Politicians are plied with money from pharmaceutical companies.My pharmacy would hate to see me go. It’s a scam. Some scientists say that HIV doesn’t actually exist. It’s a hotly contested subject. In the movie “House of numbers” you can hear and see scientists prove and disprove the existence of HIV. Some say it was genetically engineered to control population. I feel like someone’s meal ticket. I’m tired of it. I’m paying for their quality of life while mine is in the toilet. Living in nursing home is no kind of life. But everyone wants to make sure I’m taking my medication as if that’s a sign of health. In reality the only persons health I’m caring for by taking my medication is the corporate execs. at the pharmaceutical companies. AND stem cells could get me out of this wheelchair but my insurance will never pay for that because I’m insured by the United States government who doesn’t give a shit about me only the money they can make off of me. Last night I had decided to stop taking my HIV medication and just see how long I can survive without it. I’ve forgotten what it feels like not being under the influence of these drugs. BUT first thing this morning a man that I’m working for that is blind and needs me to write for him called and needed me to put an ad on the internet for him to recruit artists for his talent agency. I swallowed my pills this morning before I remembered how angry I was the night before. I owe my blind friend a debt of gratitude for giving me a reason to keep taking my medication.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Landslide Chapter 2
Sirens wailed and police cars sped down the street but nobody knew quite whom it was in the car. An underground network was created by people with short wave radios and word was out that your policemen might not actually be policemen. It seems that police stations were being taken over and nobody was announcing their arrival. So, it was advised that nobody stop for a police car. But as like before, if you see a police car you can count on it seeing you, too, only now you have much more to worry about than a ticket. It was very important for the invasion to control law enforcement.
David made it to his girlfriend’s apartment and he saw his little boy for the first time.
Listening to short wave radio, Armando learned that England, France and Spain went down, too, right along with America. The president’s assassination was a non-verbal cue for all involved to strike. Northern Ireland was a war-zone like in the 1980’s only this time the British would not be responsible, they are fighting a common enemy. But they weren’t quite sure who they were. Nobody was.
The third world was taking two giant steps forward. The West was stuck in the cement boots of complacency. And the East was here to open our eyes, it was our turn to sit in the backseat, to play second fiddle to a country that is not necessarily “better”socially or more prosperous economically, only the most ruthless bully on the playground. Numbers have nearly always trumped skill on the battle field and even Sparta would have to concede to defeat in this situation.
The third world was taking two giant steps forward. The West was stuck in the cement boots of complacency. And the East was here to open our eyes, it was our turn to sit in the backseat, to play second fiddle to a country that is not necessarily “better”socially or more prosperous economically, only the most ruthless bully on the playground. Numbers have nearly always trumped skill on the battle field and even Sparta would have to concede to defeat in this situation.
This was a hostile takeover like the world has never seen. Americans were not even given a reason as to why half of the world has come to take them over. We didn’t ever listen to reason anyway or otherwise they would have used more diplomatic methods. It didn’t matter what border we ran for, they were occupied, too. It was a takeover of the continent not just America
although the narcissistic Americans thought it was just them. But it was not, it was Canada, Mexico, Central America and all islands in between. Besides Cuba, they were not included in the circle of Western countries even though they are now more Capitalist than ever. Their years of loyalty to the Soviet Union paid off, apparently. The U.S. government was motoring along corrupt as ever bilking their own people out of their life’s savings.The appetite for suffering of America’s Congress was astounding. This was supposed to be a representative government. Just who are they representing? It was questions like this one that made some of the population lean toward the propaganda. Citizens like hearing that they wold no longer be a pawn in a tawdry group of men’s penny ante chess game. And it wasn’t just the uneducated, it was the socially aware, business owners sick of the exorbanent taxes they pay the Feds, and those who held a grudge against the United States for years of repression. They called this the land of the free and the home of the brave. While the ladder is sure true, the former is only true if you play by their rules which are based on the morality of men, who are faulty. These rules were written by the same men that wrote, “We the People...”. Even that needed amending. So, some were leaning toward the propaganda and the American government couldn’t actually defend it’s tenets. This country was a melting pot that grew to despise immigrants. A supposed “democracy” with corruption like a virus working it’s way through the entire animal, head to toe, making it legal to steal by calling it “taxes”.
although the narcissistic Americans thought it was just them. But it was not, it was Canada, Mexico, Central America and all islands in between. Besides Cuba, they were not included in the circle of Western countries even though they are now more Capitalist than ever. Their years of loyalty to the Soviet Union paid off, apparently. The U.S. government was motoring along corrupt as ever bilking their own people out of their life’s savings.The appetite for suffering of America’s Congress was astounding. This was supposed to be a representative government. Just who are they representing? It was questions like this one that made some of the population lean toward the propaganda. Citizens like hearing that they wold no longer be a pawn in a tawdry group of men’s penny ante chess game. And it wasn’t just the uneducated, it was the socially aware, business owners sick of the exorbanent taxes they pay the Feds, and those who held a grudge against the United States for years of repression. They called this the land of the free and the home of the brave. While the ladder is sure true, the former is only true if you play by their rules which are based on the morality of men, who are faulty. These rules were written by the same men that wrote, “We the People...”. Even that needed amending. So, some were leaning toward the propaganda and the American government couldn’t actually defend it’s tenets. This country was a melting pot that grew to despise immigrants. A supposed “democracy” with corruption like a virus working it’s way through the entire animal, head to toe, making it legal to steal by calling it “taxes”.
Armando was arming all the family members that were old enough to fire a weapon.
“No, not her, she’s just thirteen” says Armando’s wife Lupe.
“It’s OK,” turning toward his niece “just don’t point it at anyone you don’t want to hurt. OK, mija?” Armando says completely dismissing Lupe’s misgivings.
“I didn’t know we had so many guns.” Lupe says.
“You never know, you know how they are.” ‘Mando says, “Recordar?”
“Si”Lupe says like a scolded child. But with that one word, remember, ‘Mando expressed mutual fear. Lupe did remember living in central Mexico and seeing the remnants of cartel hits in the streets. What Lupe was remembering and what ‘Mando was trying to convey to her was how they came to America.
Armando got involved with the cartel through a chance meeting at a party in Chihuahua thrown by his sister.
“Yo creo, los estadounidenses so estupido” a man who has introduced him self as Guillermo says. “What do you say ‘Mando?”
“Yo creo, los estadounidenses so estupido” a man who has introduced him self as Guillermo says. “What do you say ‘Mando?”
“Yeah, they’re not my favorite people.” ‘Mando said just to be going along with the crowd.
“And they’re all on drugs, if it’s not street drugs it’s doctor drugs. But they put food on a lot of people’s tables.” Guillermo and ‘Mando were sitting in the backyard of ‘Mando’s sisters house at a rot iron table and chairs. Guillermo had brought a buddy with him and was sitting next to him at the table. “Oh, I apologize, this is my compadre, Juan.”
“Hello,” Juan extends his hand across the table and ‘Mando shakes it. His grip is particularly firm but Armando doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know just who these guys are. They both sit back down and sip thir beers.
“I can get you in if that’s what you want.” Guillermo volunteers a little too much information because Juan kicked Guillermo under the table. But’Mando was interested in making more money so he could get himself and his new bride out of Mexico. Guillermo and Armando talked more later on at the party and the next day he was working. He had a smuggling assignment. He was to take five kilos of coke and thirty pounds of marijuana across the border in a new car and he was told to bring a female companion but tell her nothing.
Not everyone can do this job, you’ve got to be cool under pressure or else end up in prison. ‘Mando and Lupe agreed to not to keep secrets so he shared with Lupe what happened at the party when she was off with the girls and Lupe got very angry, it was more than Armando had ever seen.
“Estupido, dios mio!” Lupe exclaimed
“I was just thinking about us.”’Mando said.
“What, getting us killed?! Lupe asked.
“No, getting us out of Mexico!”’Mando expained.
“And what to you plan on doing?” a furious Lupe asked.
“Get across the boarder, make the delivery and disappear.” ‘Mando had given this some thought.
“Disappear to where?” Lupe was starting to calm down because she liked the idea but was still concerned.
“I have cousins in L.A. and family in the mid-west.” ‘Mando informed his wife.
“Not Los Angeles, there are too many eyes that know too much.” Lupe said.
“I agree.”’Mando said.
So, that is how ‘Mando and ‘Lupe got to America and ‘Mando had not thought about being wanted by the cartel since this whole thing broke out until now. Late at night he scanned the airwaves for Spanish speaking people because he knew that this would not slow the cartel’s roll, if anything it would speed it up. Without border patrol illegal drugs and guns were rushing into the country like a wave from a broken dam. Unstoppable. One night while patrolling the radio he came across a language that he would later learn was Russian. He heard the sound of a helicopter behind the voice and heard the voice saying only names of cities in English, St. Louis and Kansas City. The helicopter was in the area although ‘Mando couldn’t hear anything outside of his house.
So, that is how ‘Mando and ‘Lupe got to America and ‘Mando had not thought about being wanted by the cartel since this whole thing broke out until now. Late at night he scanned the airwaves for Spanish speaking people because he knew that this would not slow the cartel’s roll, if anything it would speed it up. Without border patrol illegal drugs and guns were rushing into the country like a wave from a broken dam. Unstoppable. One night while patrolling the radio he came across a language that he would later learn was Russian. He heard the sound of a helicopter behind the voice and heard the voice saying only names of cities in English, St. Louis and Kansas City. The helicopter was in the area although ‘Mando couldn’t hear anything outside of his house.
David made it to his girlfriend’s apartment and he saw his little boy for the first time.
“I’m so glad you go away, I was so scared.” his girlfriend, Jennifer, says as she wraps her arms around his developed arms. “Did you see anything out front?”
“Yeah, they have soldiers posted but they don’t know their way around like I do, I made it here didn’t I.” David says while holding his little boy. “What did you name him?”
“What we agreed on, Michael.” Jenny says.
“Here, hold him, I need to make sure the apartment is secure, did you move my pistol?” David asks.
“Not in five years have I moved your pistol.” Jenny says.
“That’s my girl.” David says as he goes into the closet and reaches up to the shelf where he last put the Glock. He pulled it down and it was loaded just as he left it five years ago.
“Wait, before you go.” and Jenny gave him bedroom eyes.
“Now...damn it, let me just make sure everything is OK. I’ll be right back, hold that thought.” and David was out the door.
Jenny didn’t like it but in a way she did, she liked seeing her man take control of the situation and fresh from the penitentiary he was huge, arms, chest and that shaved head made him look really dangerous. He turned her on. Nothing changed in the five years he was away, and occupied with her first child she didn’t have the time to entertain a new man even if she wanted to which she didn’t. Jenny had gotten used to hearing gun shots since the siege began but what she wasn’t accustomed to was her boyfriend coming in the door sweating with a hot pistol.
“Those guys are crazy, they act like this is their home turf, I had to remind them where they were.” David says as he tries to catch his breath, “Only took two well placed bullets. They’ll be leaving us alone for a while.
Now what was on your mind before I left?”David says knowing full well what was on her mind. It’s been on his mind for five long years.David picked up his girl by the waist and put her over his shoulder and went into the bedroom and plopped her down on the bed and shed his clothes like a strong breeze blew them off. She only had a sundress on so she was naked ahead of him. She lay before him in all her feminine glory and he crawled onto their bed and started kissing her feet first and slowly moved his way up her calf to her thighs past her prize and onto her flat stomach up to her full breasts where he toyed with her nipples until she could take it no longer. He grabbed her head in one hand and kissed her hard enough for her to taste all those years of pain. He then went back down to her prize and tended to it until she was bucking him off. Then they made slow love, David wasn’t going to rush this, he dreamed of this moment too long to rush through it.
They had to be quiet be quiet because their little boy was sleeping on the couch and the apartment was a small one bedroom. They were rolling around in each others scent and taste. They heard the creaking of from footsteps and then heard a knock at the door.
The lodge was overtaken by Russians. Kelly and Jessica made it down the hill. It was a ghost town, no cars on the street, no pedestrians on the sidewalk. Kelly and Jessica were on skis and stopped at a diner on the edge of town.
“You open?” Kelly shouts as she walks in the door.
“Yeah, come on in, you ski down here?” the elderly waitress says. “And we ain’t going nowhere!”
“Can we have some coffee?”Jessica asks as if reading Kelly’s mind.
“Yes, that would be nice.” Kelly adds, “What has been going on down here?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” the elderly lady says, “ My name
is Jean, by the way.”
“Yes, we skied down here from the resort because there was just too much activity and foreign forces invading. I imagine it was the same for you.” Kelly accepts the cup of coffee, “Thank you, I need this more than you know.” she says to Jean.
“Well, it started early yesterday with the foreigners scantly wandering through town, I guess doing reconnaissance. Everyone noticed them, everyone knows everyone in this town, but nobody said anything to them or about them. We just figured that they were tourists that got separated from their group. Then this morning those wandering tourists were donning camouflage and had rifles on their backs. They seem to have multiplied, too. Who are they?
“We don’t know who they are or what they are doing.” Kelly says and then is interrupted by a frightened Jean.
“Because nobody wants to come outside, you had to have noticed that when you approached the diner. Ever since the president got shot things have been crazy around here.” A frantic Jean stops to catch her breath.
“Can you turn on the television?” Kelly asks.
“And that’s another thing, the television is out and it’s not just here, it seems to be everywhere.” a worried Jean says. Her parents come to mind and she wants to call Boston.
“Can I use your phone? I seem to have forgotten my cell.” Kelly asks.
“Here, you can use mine.” Jessica offers. But no luck.
“Cell service is out.” Kelly says and then asks. “Can I use your land line?”
“You can try but I tried earlier and it was out, too, not even a dial tone or busy signal.” Jean informs the two young ladies dressed in fluorescent orange jump suits and jackets.
“Oh, shit! Excuse me, this is bigger than I thought. We gotta go, stay inside, Jean.” And Kelly and Jessica were gone. Kelly was leading the way and Jessica was putting everything she had into following her.
“Kelly!” Jessica shouted and Kelly stopped about fifty yards ahead of her. After waiting there a second she backtracks and meets Jessica.
They both continue to run then stopped and were mesmerized by the sky above. Two objects were doing a dance creating consecutive figure eight’s. Those objects were roaring fighter jets.
They both continue to run then stopped and were mesmerized by the sky above. Two objects were doing a dance creating consecutive figure eight’s. Those objects were roaring fighter jets.
“I hope the guy coming up the back is us.” Kelly remarks.
“Yeah, I’m sure he is.” Jessica says.
“Or she, right?” Kelly says.
“Yeah, right.” Jessica adds.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
serendipity VI
In the morning Lisa explained, then introduced Rod to her Mother and Kevin, who was all too happy to help, once he heard of the reason why he was there. Lisa played it up a little saying that, if Rod goes back, he will be in serious trouble with the gang. Lisa explained that he was there to protect us.
“You’re in the house of the lord, you need no protection here.” Kevin said.
“That’s right, you need no protection.” Michael suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Maria was sitting at the dining table and Lisa and Rod were sitting across from her while Kevin was standing at the edge of the table. No one saw Michael walk in and it surprised Rod who jumped up from his seat.
“No, no, Rod it’s OK, he’s a friend.” and Rod sat down. Michael stood off to the side, but it suddenly appeared to be the center of the room due to the well of energy that he brings with him everywhere. The angels sang, the heavens parted and the sun shone around his body as if he were a sail on a boat. His halo was visible, but only those that knew could see it.
“I will take care of the protection, you my friend, have other thing to deal with.” Michael was talking to Rod and motioned with his eyes toward Lisa. He needed to allay her fear and comfort her. Lisa’s nerves were ruined from all the time worrying about her Mother and her Mother was always worrying about her son in the hospital. Michael was there to take the worry away and give confidence that it will all play out in it’s proper way.
“The lord does not wish us to be bogged down with worry, it ages your body and puts shackles on your spirit. Isn’t that right?” Michael looks over toward Kevin and nods, Kevin nods back. “Now,when are these people supposed to be coming?” he directs the question to Rodrigo.
“I don’t know exactly but it will be soon. You don’t care if they know you are here, do you?” Michael was looking straight into Rodrigo’s eyes and could see the previous evening when he came there, he knew that the gang didn’t know he was there, yet.
“We’re going home today.” Michael announced, the information landed on Maria and Lisa like a boulder.
“But.” and that’s all Lisa got out of her mouth.
“The gang knows you are here and we can’t put the church in jeopardy anymore. Thank you, father.”Michael said.
“So, you’re just going to drive out of here.” Rodrigo said
“No, we are going to drive out of here.” Michael said.
“But, remember what happened when we drove over here.” Lisa was referring to the shots that they magically dodged.
“Yes, I remember the ride over, it was quite breezy that day.” Michael completely discounted her concern because nothing actually happened.
“And I want you to have this money, Father.” Lisa was putting wrapped stacks of hundred dollar bills in his hands, while saving some for her brother..
“That’s ill gotten money.” Father replied.
“Then do some good with it, then that will make the money righteous, right?” Lisa said.
“Well, I suppose so.”the Father said
“Well, gather your things.” Michael said
“So, we’re leaving right away?” Maria, an obedient listener, finally speaks up.
“Yes, sister, we’re leaving right away.” Michael said lovingly to the faithful Maria.
“Well, don’t forget this,” Kevin takes a wooden, hand-made rosary from around his neck and gives it to Maria.
“Wow, thank you, Father.” a devout Maria said.
“And you,” Kevin turns toward Michael and grabs his hand, “It has been divine.”
“You are doing a righteous job with your church and he is very proud of you. I think Cynthia wants to see you off, too. Cynthia!.” Kevin calls his right hand nun. She enters the room drying her hands off on a rag.
“Yes, yes, Father.” Cynthia
“Michael is leaving with Maria and Lisa.” Kevin said.
“Oh, well, it was nice having you and your little friend,” Cynthia is referring to Rod, “May God be with you along all your travels.”
“Thank you, you were very gracious welcoming us in like you did.” Maria said.
“OK, we should go now.” Michael said as Lisa got her last bag packed and stood up ready to go.
“I’m ready...and a little scared.” Lisa admits in front of everyone.
“Fear is a good thing, but completely unnecessary right now.” Michael informs the group. Kevin opened up the door and Maria bravely walked out first,Lisa followed because if anything were going to happen to her Mommy, it was going to happen to her, too. And Rod came out after Michael.
The white Mercedes started fine and Michael backed out of the parking spot. Everyone instantaneously felt a sense of calm come over them when they hit the street. Again, Michael and Maria sat up front while Lisa and Rodrigo sat in the back.
“Just who are you?” Rod blurts out involuntarily. Lisa elbows him.
“No, that’s quite alright,” Michael makes eye contact with Lisa through the rear-view mirror and winks. “I’m a family friend. A very close family friend”
“El es nuestro amigo divino.” Maria said that he was a divine friend.
“Mom! That’s enough!” Lisa demands.
“Usted dice demasiado!” Lisa tells her Mom she talks too much.
“Now, now, let’s not argue in front of company.” Michael looks in the rear-view mirror at Lisa who is closed off and sits with her arms folded; he gives her a look acknowledging her frustration and sending her love.
“Yeah, I don’t want to hear a Mother and daughter fight at a time like this, aren’t there bigger fish to fry?” Rodrigo responds not paying any attention to the lukewarm explanation of who Michael was. They came upon low-rider rolling four deep at a stoplight. Rodrigo and Lisa cringed as the gangbangers looked over at them. But they couldn’t see them, somehow, Rodrigo thought it was the reflection off the windows that made them unable to see. Lisa and Maria, who were really oblivious to the situation, knew differently. Suddenly Lisa felt a strong sense of pride wash over her. Pride for knowing Michael, pride for giving the money to the church, pride for having a Mother like she did. And her dear brother.
“I have a surprise for you, Maria” Michael said as he turned a corner going away from their house. “I can’t tell you but you’ll know where we’re going before we get there.” They all sat in silence just absorbing the presence of divinity. Rod sat quietly knowing somewhere inside that he was in the car with someone very special, besides Lisa, whom he honestly had feelings for. That was the only reason he was in the car. They rounded the corner onto the street that the hospital Julian was in.
“You’re in the house of the lord, you need no protection here.” Kevin said.
“That’s right, you need no protection.” Michael suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Maria was sitting at the dining table and Lisa and Rod were sitting across from her while Kevin was standing at the edge of the table. No one saw Michael walk in and it surprised Rod who jumped up from his seat.
“No, no, Rod it’s OK, he’s a friend.” and Rod sat down. Michael stood off to the side, but it suddenly appeared to be the center of the room due to the well of energy that he brings with him everywhere. The angels sang, the heavens parted and the sun shone around his body as if he were a sail on a boat. His halo was visible, but only those that knew could see it.
“I will take care of the protection, you my friend, have other thing to deal with.” Michael was talking to Rod and motioned with his eyes toward Lisa. He needed to allay her fear and comfort her. Lisa’s nerves were ruined from all the time worrying about her Mother and her Mother was always worrying about her son in the hospital. Michael was there to take the worry away and give confidence that it will all play out in it’s proper way.
“The lord does not wish us to be bogged down with worry, it ages your body and puts shackles on your spirit. Isn’t that right?” Michael looks over toward Kevin and nods, Kevin nods back. “Now,when are these people supposed to be coming?” he directs the question to Rodrigo.
“I don’t know exactly but it will be soon. You don’t care if they know you are here, do you?” Michael was looking straight into Rodrigo’s eyes and could see the previous evening when he came there, he knew that the gang didn’t know he was there, yet.
“We’re going home today.” Michael announced, the information landed on Maria and Lisa like a boulder.
“But.” and that’s all Lisa got out of her mouth.
“The gang knows you are here and we can’t put the church in jeopardy anymore. Thank you, father.”Michael said.
“So, you’re just going to drive out of here.” Rodrigo said
“No, we are going to drive out of here.” Michael said.
“But, remember what happened when we drove over here.” Lisa was referring to the shots that they magically dodged.
“Yes, I remember the ride over, it was quite breezy that day.” Michael completely discounted her concern because nothing actually happened.
“And I want you to have this money, Father.” Lisa was putting wrapped stacks of hundred dollar bills in his hands, while saving some for her brother..
“That’s ill gotten money.” Father replied.
“Then do some good with it, then that will make the money righteous, right?” Lisa said.
“Well, I suppose so.”the Father said
“Well, gather your things.” Michael said
“So, we’re leaving right away?” Maria, an obedient listener, finally speaks up.
“Yes, sister, we’re leaving right away.” Michael said lovingly to the faithful Maria.
“Well, don’t forget this,” Kevin takes a wooden, hand-made rosary from around his neck and gives it to Maria.
“Wow, thank you, Father.” a devout Maria said.
“And you,” Kevin turns toward Michael and grabs his hand, “It has been divine.”
“You are doing a righteous job with your church and he is very proud of you. I think Cynthia wants to see you off, too. Cynthia!.” Kevin calls his right hand nun. She enters the room drying her hands off on a rag.
“Yes, yes, Father.” Cynthia
“Michael is leaving with Maria and Lisa.” Kevin said.
“Oh, well, it was nice having you and your little friend,” Cynthia is referring to Rod, “May God be with you along all your travels.”
“Thank you, you were very gracious welcoming us in like you did.” Maria said.
“OK, we should go now.” Michael said as Lisa got her last bag packed and stood up ready to go.
“I’m ready...and a little scared.” Lisa admits in front of everyone.
“Fear is a good thing, but completely unnecessary right now.” Michael informs the group. Kevin opened up the door and Maria bravely walked out first,Lisa followed because if anything were going to happen to her Mommy, it was going to happen to her, too. And Rod came out after Michael.
The white Mercedes started fine and Michael backed out of the parking spot. Everyone instantaneously felt a sense of calm come over them when they hit the street. Again, Michael and Maria sat up front while Lisa and Rodrigo sat in the back.
“Just who are you?” Rod blurts out involuntarily. Lisa elbows him.
“No, that’s quite alright,” Michael makes eye contact with Lisa through the rear-view mirror and winks. “I’m a family friend. A very close family friend”
“El es nuestro amigo divino.” Maria said that he was a divine friend.
“Mom! That’s enough!” Lisa demands.
“Usted dice demasiado!” Lisa tells her Mom she talks too much.
“Now, now, let’s not argue in front of company.” Michael looks in the rear-view mirror at Lisa who is closed off and sits with her arms folded; he gives her a look acknowledging her frustration and sending her love.
“Yeah, I don’t want to hear a Mother and daughter fight at a time like this, aren’t there bigger fish to fry?” Rodrigo responds not paying any attention to the lukewarm explanation of who Michael was. They came upon low-rider rolling four deep at a stoplight. Rodrigo and Lisa cringed as the gangbangers looked over at them. But they couldn’t see them, somehow, Rodrigo thought it was the reflection off the windows that made them unable to see. Lisa and Maria, who were really oblivious to the situation, knew differently. Suddenly Lisa felt a strong sense of pride wash over her. Pride for knowing Michael, pride for giving the money to the church, pride for having a Mother like she did. And her dear brother.
“I have a surprise for you, Maria” Michael said as he turned a corner going away from their house. “I can’t tell you but you’ll know where we’re going before we get there.” They all sat in silence just absorbing the presence of divinity. Rod sat quietly knowing somewhere inside that he was in the car with someone very special, besides Lisa, whom he honestly had feelings for. That was the only reason he was in the car. They rounded the corner onto the street that the hospital Julian was in.
“Oh, dios mio! Michael, you know just where my heart is.” Maria said.
“I am here to care for your family, it was Lisa’s prayer after all, she called me.” Michael said. “Do you even remember, Lisa?”
“No, I don’t” Lisa admits
“But I pray to you every night.” Maria said.
“But Lisa’s prayer was at the perfect time.” Michael said.
“What’s that?” Maria asked
“That’s all I know, the rest is from him,” Michael points upward. “Apparently, Lisa’s prayer was too honest and desperate to leave unanswered and that’s how I got my assignment.”
“Just who are you?” a confused Rod says.
“I work for the church.” Michael gives an honest answer without divulging anything he did not need to know.
Michael pulled into the hospital parking lot and before getting out of the car he asked Maria for her Rosary.
“Sure.” she takes it from around her neck and hands it to him. He holds it to his chest and bows his head. Suddenly a glowing ring appeared above his head. Maria gasped and Lisa’s eye’s widened. He made the sign of a cross on his chest and his head rose and Michael was smiling. He handed the rosary back to Maria and it was warm, as if someone heated up the whole thing in an oven or microwave. The sun was setting and the sky was a swirl of orange, red and blue like some new ice cream flavor. Rod was outside the car when Michael prayed. And he and Lisa were walking together toward the automatic doors of the hospital. It is usually a walk of sorrow, but tonight it was different. Maria walked with Michael.
“Beautiful sunset isn’t it?” Michael asked.
“Sure it is, what were you doing back in the car before we got out.” Maria asked without hesitation.
“Do you think that just because I’m an angel I don’t pray.” Michael said very matter-of-factly.
“We saw your halo.” Maria said proudly.
“That happens when I connect to the source” Michael said. “You can connect, too, that is what rosaries are for. But I know that you know that. Well, you believed that and now you know it like you know your own name,OK?”
“OK.” Maria said.
“When I was praying I was asking how much I’m allowed to help your son. Whatever happens to your son you must know it’s part of the grand plan. It’s for the better of mankind.” Michael finished and the entered the hospital through automatic glass doors. Michael walked directly to the elevator that they needed to go up to reach the room.He knew what floor and the room number. It was as if he had been there before.
“I’ve been here before, for your son” Michael whispers into Maria’s ear.
They enter Julian’s room and his eyes are closed, a mass of balloons in the corner. People that work at the hospital were buying him balloons and flowers. Tubes were attached to her son like he was some science experiment. Maria put her hand over Julian’s and instantly his eyes opened as if he was waiting for that touch to come back. Michael stood on the opposite side of the hospital bed, he put his hand on his chest and closed his eyes and took deep breaths as if meditating. Lisa was sitting in the corner with Rod.
“Finally, where have you been?” Julian said to Michael like he knew him.
“Julian!” Maria was getting ready to reprimand her son for being rude to someone he doesn’t know.
“No, it’s alright, he’s right, I am a little late.” Michael said.
“But how...” Maria started.
“When children get close they see and talk to angels and God even.” Michael said.
“Close to what?” Maria doesn’t want to know the answer.
“The end.” Michael answers as softly as he can. Maria doesn’t make a sound but tears begin flowing down her cheek like an overfilled glass. Lisa wraps her arms around her Mother from the back and rests her head on her tough Mother. They both are crying but neither make a sound.
“They told me you were coming to show me the way and you gotta get back soon, that’s just what I heard and I think you know who I heard it from.” Julian said.
“What is he talking about” Lisa asked.
“I think right now we should just let love fill our hearts, all of us.” Rod stood up and walked to the hospital bed and reached across and grabbed Michael’s hand creating a circle of love that enveloped Julian.
“Did you help Lisa?” an exhausted Julian asked Michael.
“How did he know?” Lisa said.
“Yes, Julian I have touched them all you can go.” Michael said.
“Mama, hold my hand.” his Mother grasped his hand. “This is forever.”
“Julian, I can’t show you the way, you have to find it on your own.” Michael said. Lisa put her hand on his leg. And the circle of energy they created through hand holding became electric and started glowing
“The...it’s so bright.” Julian said.
“That is your guide, if you move toward it, it will start to pull you. Follow your heart, my son. And he took an enormous breath and slowly exhaled. By the time the wind was out of his lungs, his soul ready for . his journey
“Mama...don’t forget...” and Julian slipped away. He rose above his body as an apparition. Maria was crying then she smiled, Lisa was dumbstruck as was Rod who was now holding Lisa’s hand hard. Michael had a smile on his face that looked like the smile on Buddha’s face. He had the look of joy, empathy and knowledge of all that is and all that ever will be.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Landslide Chapter 1
The president is touring the country making public speaking engagements to gain support for his reelection. He’s hitting all the major cities across the country and today he is in Los Angeles. The presidential motorcade is making it’s way downtown winding it’s way through the crowded city streets. Confetti is being thrown down from the skyscrapers, children lined the streets with the hopes of seeing the president. It was a normal Southern California day, sunny and seventy-five degrees. Upon rounding the corner at fifth and Broadway the presidents car slows and a shot rings out and hits the president. It was all too reminiscent of the Kennedy assassination except the president car is supposed to be bullet-proof. The decoy cars are not and somehow the president was put in one. The very next day, while mourning the president’s death terror cells begin erupting in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle, Austin, Chicago, Orlando, Norfolk, D.C., Philadelphia and Brooklyn..
The country has descended into chaos like clockwork. Congress cannot convene due to roadblocks surrounding the capitol building with armed Middle-eastern men who shoot first and look for I.D. later. The cities are not in contact with each other and no one can see the scope of this coup.The country knows the president has died due to television, but it was cut-off after that report, along with cell phone service.
But the millions in Los Angeles are not taking this lying down. Neighborhoods are mobilizing into mini militia’s to protect their own. The riots of 1992 were a dry run for this day. Koreans were on the rooftops of their businesses guarding their patrons as they hustled in for supplies. San Francisco was not aware of the battle going on down south nor was Los Angeles aware of the battles going on around the country. This was planned, no doubt, and probably before September 11, 2001. If the media were still viable, someone on television would definitely speculate that this was revenge for the killing of Osama Bin Laden.
D.C.fell like a deck of cards erected by a child. All the starched white collars in the country couldn’t talk their way out of this mess. Militia’s in the Midwest were arming entire counties as if they knew what was happening in the big city. They were waiting for this day and it was now here. A man named Armando had family in Los Angeles and communicated with them via shortwave radio and so he was the lifeline to the midwest. Although there was not much life to speak of, but Kansas City as well as all surrounding municipalities, were aware of what was going on in Los Angeles, thanks to him.The hispanics in the country didn’t seem to be as rattled as the Anglo’s or the African Americans. They had lived in police states before in their home countries. And almost all of them were familiar with assault rifles and semi-automatic pistols.
Armando was head of household to a family of five and worked as a roughneck on an oil derrick. It was hard work, one of the most deadly jobs that can be had on land but that didn’t matter to him. He was second generation Latino born from immigrant parents who endured weeks in the desert to get to this country. They instilled in him gratitude for this country’s opportunities and abundant services. He had his first full time job at fourteen years old working under the table at a lumber yard and had been working ever since then. He graduated from High School but had no time for college as he was one of seven children and the family needed the income. But now, Armando’s house was about to become a hub of activity, being that he had a shortwave radio and knew how to use it.
“Yeah, we know the president is dead but everything cut off after that, this radio is all we have left.” Armando says.
“Well, there’s more than that, someone sent paramilitary troopers into the city,this place is a madhouse. How is it there?” his cousin says.
“We don’t have paramilitary troopers falling from the sky but a what-looks-like Chinese army has taken over downtown. We don’t know where they came from, they just seemed to have come out of the ground.” Armando says.
“Do you have any weapons?” his cousin says.
“We’re in the country and aren’t as regulated as you Californians, of course we have weapons.” Armando replies. His cousin chuckles.
“You know that I don’t listen to regulations, I gotta have my AK and so should you, it’s time to arm people” his cousin says and then there’s nothing but static.
Prisoners were released from their cells but they would not find a ride back to their hometowns. Upon release they were inducted the local militia and given a rifle. The prisoner’s knew what was going on, somehow, even better than free citizens did. David took his rifle and got away from the militia the first free moment that he had. He had family in Los Angeles and was determined to get there. He had wanted to run free for years now, being down for trafficking cocaine five years, he had to get 600 miles south and had no car or mode of transportation. He was just running alongside the highway looking for a ride. He knew the police would not be looking for him. All bets were off, at this point, the country was being invaded from the inside.
Soon enough a big rig rumbled along and stopped with a loud squeal of the air brakes. David climbed up gratefully on the side door and opened it. Climbing inside, he found Jerry, an overweight truck driver hauling a flat bed with concrete pipes that were sealed on both ends. “What’s in the pipes?” David asks as he plops himself down in the passenger seat.
“You never mind what’s in those pipes, whatcha name? Mine’s Jerry. I would shake your hand but these pipes are mighty heavy and I wouldn’t want to lose control and drive us into a ditch.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right, my name is David.” David says but that’s it.
“You comin’ from a rough place aren’t you. What, the militia’s didn’t want you?” Jerry says as he pulls back onto the highway, looking into his side mirror.
“No, I didn’t want them, how do you know so much?” David asks.
“CB radio, the world is broadcast through this thing,” Jerry pats his CB on top.“Shit, anyone that tells you that men don’t gossip has never had a CB radio before.” laughs “I guess you’re headed south because you got in my truck but where are you headed?”
“Los Angeles, I have a girlfriend there that just had my baby son.” David says not really knowing whether or not his girlfriend was still there for him, as she said in all her letters.
“Into the belly of the beast, huh?” Jerry says as if David knows nothing of what happened.
“Yeah, I know it’s going to be chaos but I gotta’ go” David reveals the seriousness of his trip without having to go into detail,”How far are you going”
“Well,if you must know, and since you already have that rifle, these pipes are filled with weapons for a newly formed militia down near San Diego.They might be Mexicans, I don’t know, I’m just doing a friend a favor”
“I had a feeling about those pipes because you picked me up even with this AR in my hand, I knew you were armed at least.” David finishes.
“You better believe it.” Jerry.pulls a .45 out from the side of his door and points it skyward.
“That’s a nice piece, I’ve worked with one of those.” David says
“Worked?”Jerry questions.
“No, don’t get me wrong, I never robbed anyone, I sold large amounts of cocaine and used one of those to protect myself, it was my only partner. And still I got popped.” David says with an angry tone.
“Well, those days are over now, right? Look you’re in for a long ride, I have a bed in back, or you can just stretch out in your seat.” Jerry says.
“I appreciate you stopping.” David says.
.They rolled unimpeded down the relatively empty California Highway 99. Jerry didn’t take the tourist-friendly Interstate 5 that nearly runs parallel to the 99 because he knew if there was going to be road-blocks they would likely be on the Interstate. Like Interstate 5, cruising down highway 99, was a tour through Napa in the north to Sequoia National park in the south. It was early morning when David got on board and after they passed Fresno and dropped down into San Joaquin Valley they came across dense fog that made them slow to a crawl, not because they couldn’t see, but so they wouldn’t completely destroy blind drivers in cars. They inched their way along until the fog broke about 100 miles out of Bakersfield, one of the only towns in Southern California with a truck stop. On the outskirts of town they came across their first truck stop and road-block, of big rigs. They couldn’t just plow through the rigs like they were cars, they had to stop. And when they did they got a surprise. It wasn’t whomever was trying to uproot the American government, it was other Americans trying to recruit Militia fighters. Jerry slowed the truck to a crawl as he approached the block. Then a man with a blue bandana wrapped around his face climbed up the passenger side off the truck in a hurry with a semi-automatic pistol in his hand. David was quick on his feet, a survival tool in prison, and had his AR-15 pointed out the window when the man reached his door.
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” the man said in broken English then jumped down from the truck. Then a voice on a loudspeaker came on and said,”Please step down from the vehicle.” this time it was perfect English and David and Jerry talked about what they should do.
“This is my ride, it’s all I got.” Jerry says
“This freedom, it’s all I got. If you want to shoot it out with them, I got your back. I will not serve another man, other than family, for as long as I shall live.” David says with the energy of a man just released from a cage.
“Nah, maybe they’re friendly...alright we’ll get out but I’m carrying this,” he displays his .45, and he hands David a .38 revolver but doesn’t say a word, only gives him a look that says many things, including ‘not until we need to’. Jerry was the first to open the door. The people at the roadblock were just as apprehensive as they were about them and cocked their guns as David opened his door. David let the AR fall to the ground so as to divert them from the odds that he’d have a pistol in his back David jumps down and puts his hands up.
“Who are you?” the loudspeaker says.
“Concerned citizens” David says as Jerry sits, still in the truck
“You can come down from there.” the loudspeaker says to Jerry. Jerry slides down the outside handle landing hard and with a wince he raises his hands.
“Who wrote the Emancipation Proclamation?”
“What!?” David says as he looks to Jerry who clearly has no idea what’s going on.
“Just answer me” the loudspeaker says.
“Abraham Lincoln” David says.
“Alright, stand down boys.” the loudspeaker says and the barricaded crew comes out to introduce themselves
“We just needed to know that you were real Americans.” A lumberjack looking man says,”My name’s John, I put together a posse to protect Americans from the invaders.”
“Who are they?” Jerry asks.
“We thought they were Middle-Eastern but there are also some Chinese and some Russians.” John says.
“How do you know they were fighters?” David asks.
“Because we killed them” John looks beyond David and Jerry to the roadblock and yells, “move that damn thing, yeah, clear a path for our new friends.” he looks back at David and Jerry, “And they were all using Chinese or Russian made AK’s. But I’m assuming you have important business and I’ll let you go if you want, just remember a few things. Don’t stop at all unless you absolutely have to, don’t be afraid to use that rifle, and don’t trust anyone. And get on that CB and let everyone know, if they don’t already, that America is under attack.”
Kelly was a world-class snowboarder living in Vail, Colorado and working for the search and rescue team. Her parents were in Boston, She was a tough chick that all the guys were friends with though none had the courage to ask her out. She’s tall and slender and had a face that would make Cindy Crawford cry with jealousy and a body that would turn Tyra Banks’ head. She was in her early twenties and not quite sure what to think of this life, yet. Everyone was fighting not to be miserable all their lives, it seemed. Now, she didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew that, definitely, she didn’t want that So, she decided at a young age to follow her heart and her heart was in snowboarding. Directly after high school she moved to Vail and got her first sponsor. While she was still in Boston travelling for competitions was nothing new. She handled the money properly and is living off of interest but still rides.This morning she had an interesting encounter. While patrolling the back country she came across a man obviously urinating but had his back turned.
“Hey, we have bathrooms for that!” Kelly yelled. The man turned around and he looked Chinese or Korean but the thing was, he didn’t say a thing, just picked up his rifle and ran away. When Kelly got back down the hill of fluffy powder. She dug her edge in twenty feet from the front door to the lodge and people were running around frantically.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Kelly shouts to the whirl of people moving by and nobody answers. Until finally Kelly’s friend Jessica ran by.
“Kelly, come with me there’s big trouble.” Jessica is also part of the rescue team. Jessica took Kelly to a cabin where all the others were.
“There’s an invasion.” Jeff a senior member of the team.says.
“What do you mean,’an invasion’? Kelly says There’s a group of five, they were all sitting on couches and loveseats except Kelly, she had the chair.
“Like, men with weapons coming down from the sky and shooting people. We have to stay here.” Jeff says.
The American radar saw them coming but they were coming with the power of four Air Force’s. The American fighter pilot’s, while exceptionally talented, were falling from the sky faster than they could take off. The American skies became a tarmac, unloading supplies and people This was George Bush’s Axis of Evil at work.
“This morning I came across a Chinese man with a rifle urinating but he just ran away.” Kelly says.
“That was a soldier, where was he?” Jeff says.
“On Saddle Ridge.” Kelly says.
“Holy shit,they’re going to come down the hill into town.” Jeff says.
“I’ll call the sheriff.”
But that would not matter, within a matter of hours North Korean and Chinese paramilitary trooper will have landed like a tipped over cereal box full of cockroaches, spilled out everywhere. Jeff and Daniel, a sophomore member of the team, grabbed two carbine rifles that were on the wall and peeked out the windows.
“Don’t shoot unless they’re coming this way.” Sissy, a new member of the team, says..
“We gotta shoot them on sight!” Daniel says as his attention is drawn outside a window at the front of the cabin. He’s peeking out like a child playing a very deadly game of hide-and-seek..
Kelly and Jessica were huddled in the corner, the only one’s grasping the big picture. If soldiers are hitting Vail, then what must that say for bigger cities? It’s not like Vail was on the coast or something, at the front door of the country. Many cities would have had to have been over-run to get to Vail. And Jessica and Kelly while not college graduates were no dummies and were globally aware. They ascribed to the well-known bumper sticker,”Act locally-think globally” So, they both wanted to call home.
They were similar in age and back story. They both came from loving households and were prodigies that took to snow like a Gazelle to the Serengeti. They left high school and moved to Vail and had been there ever since. They were both romantics but were currently involved with their sport, exclusively. Kelly and Jessica saw themselves as the only one’s thinking rationally and they felt it was their duty as American citizens to do something. That something did not include weapons.
“I have to go check on someone” Kelly says as an excuse to get away from the trigger happy men.
“And I’m going with her” Jessica steps up and tags along.
“You can’t go anywhere!” Jeff demands.
“Watch me!” the defiant Kelly says and opens the door and walks out with good friend Jessica in tow. They march through the snow together both having the same feeling of ‘oh my God this is really happening’.
“Thanks for coming with me Jess.” Kelly relays to her friend. “We’re going back to the lodge.”
“The lodge? Why?” Jess says “We don’t have weapons.”
“And neither does anyone in the building, if they’re still there.” Kelly is not thinking about her own safety, which is part of being on the team. They hid behind trees as they approached the lodge, dashing from shadow to shadow. People were no longer running and the last one’s there were hiding in the shadows, too, everyone knew what Kelly and Jessica’s jackets meant and they were greeted with hugs. Trees cast shadows at high noon and it was morning on an overcast day. The lodge was empty as they were told that nobody wanted to stay there for everyone was confused and lost and running just to be running. No one knew what was going on. Kelly acted like she did just to because she knew that somebody needed to.
Washington D.C. had been taken by Syrians that were in the country legally as students. They found that they could ship supplies through England and as long as the package wasn’t too big, it would fly right through Customs. They were sending rifles and ammunition piece by piece for years prior to this.
The Chinese and North Koreans were coming in through the west coast and the Russians were already here, though citizens have left their country, love for their homeland ran deep. And when it called, they answered.
Jerry and David climbed back into his rig. With a turn of the key the Cummins diesel engine roared to life. They inched passed the roadblock, blew his horn twice as if to say good-bye and good-luck.
“Wow, I knew this shit would happen. The East was only going to be third world for so long. This is the rebellion. The Chinese want their money back, the Middle-East is mad at the Jews, who are our friends, North Korea wants to kick our ass just for bragging rights and the Russians have beef with us that goes all the way back to Stalin.” David finishes.
“You sure know a lot for a...” Jerry starts but then gets tripped up on his own words.
“For a what? A prisoner!” David feigns anger.
“Well, no, of course not,I just never thought of the penitentiary as a university.” Jerry and David laugh. Jerry sounded a little scared but with a loaded .45 in his door pocket, he coudn’t have been too scared,but he was. David was an intimidating man at 6’4” 250 lbs. and with a shaved head, to fit in with the white gangs in prison. It doesn’t matter how big you are, you don’t want to stand out when you’re in prison.
“Ah, I was just messing with you. But seriously, you’d be surprised how many men go to prison completely ignorant and come out with degrees.” David says
“No shit?” Jerry says through his overgrown grey beard
“There’s nothing to do in there but read and write. And the majority of the guys in the pen don’t have any writing ability so, all we do is read. But trust me, if they could write, bookstores would have to open a section dedicated it to inmate authors and their books would me more scary than Stephen King. But back to the point at hand, all great empires collapse sooner or later, and with America it is going to be sooner than later, I’m afraid.”
“Well, look how long Rome lasted or the Egyptians.” Jerry argued.
“Yes, let’s look at Rome and the Egyptians; Rome lasted some six hundred years and contributed to the growth of mankind, Egypt lasted for 3000 years and contributed so much to mankind that we are still discovering things from them, today And let me ask you a question; what has the united states contributed to the world? The assembly line, the combustion engine was not discovered in the U.S., it was exploited in the U.S. Freedom, liberty for all, do I really have to go there? Our founding fathers were hypocrites and no one called ’bull shit’ for a hundred years. Not until Abraham Lincoln was hypocrisy annihilated, before that Washington, Jefferson, and Jackson and many other presidents were having babies with their slaves. No offense if you’re a patriot and I’ll get out of your truck if you wish but the United States of America didn’t even invent Capitalism. This country is using as collateral the ground we walk on. The Chinese just kept loaning us money like giving a child rope, they always hang themselves in the end. And this is them pulling the noose tight. America is standing on top of other countries bullying them into not moving. It looks like they all decided to move at once”
“Wow, .I would have never expected such a diatribe from a member of our prison system.” Jerry says as he passes another truck and blows his horn.”And don’t worry I do not consider myself a patriot, you should see the amount of tax I pay owning my own truck. They say this is the land of opportunity but sometimes it seems like it’s just opportunity to make someone else money. Because I’m just barely getting by. And this is the American dream? I’m my own boss, I have my own business but I don’t have a large enough house for my family, I don’t have any expendable income. This American dream is more of an American nightmare.
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