Ohio School Shooting

This school shooting that happened on February 27 is exactly what this blog, what my book, "The Train Runs No More", refers to.  It refers to children that are so disturbed by something in their life that they strike out with the only thing that comes to mind first without thinking about the consequences.  Some of these children don't have a real positively influential parental figure in their life to start with.  They can only observe what others have, what others do, and wish that they had that in their life.  These kinds of children are nice up front.  They are nice to talk to, some are polite, but rarely do they speak intimately of their life "away" from the everyday norm.  The only parental figures in this poor kid's life committed spousal abuse against each other.  The mother reportedly is a drug addict.  The father, if he wasn't beating up the mother, he was assaulting another woman or a police officer.  He had no close example to follow.  He had been deemed a loner by news reports.  Most likely he was a loner because he was embarrassed by the home life that he had.  In his humiliation he didn't want to express such disappointment to his classmates.  Who wants to hear about such negativity?  He failed to find one true trustworthy person whom he could call a friend.  He lived with his grandparents because he didn't have any place else to go.  Giving them the benefit of the doubt, his grandparents probably did the best they knew how about raising a child again.  At the same time, T J Lane, the kid, had to go to school with classmates that were living with their parents, not people that were much older practicing parenting.  Maybe TJ was bothered by this.  He was "different" from other students.  Having no outlet about the goings on in his life, he expressed his thoughts by writing them down, but he probably didn't re-read them with an unbiased opinion to see what he could have done better or handled the situation better.  Instead of confiding in one tangible person, he confided in a vast number of intangible people from Facebook.  There is no closeness there.  There is no intimacy there.  There are no emotional responses from people that "see" from a different perspective there.  

Some children fall victim to playing morbid video games where they shoot, maim, and kill people.  These games are played so often by children that some fail to find the difference between fiction and reality.  I am not blaming the video game producers.  I play them myself.  I enjoy them to no end, but there is a limit to everything.  When these children are placed in real situations, it becomes hard for them to decipher which is real.  To compound the issue, a high percentage of homes in America have to have a handgun for protection.  Usually this handgun is kept within quick reach and kept loaded.  The people serious about protection keep their handgun locked up somewhere so that when a situation does occur and usually at night, they have to leap from their bed, go unlock the safe, load the weapon, and by the time they have done that, they have been found by the perpetrator and assaulted or killed.  Others just reach in the night stand by their bed, grab the gun and shoot from where they lay, or go find the perp, and when they see something move in the dark they shoot.  More likely they have shot at the wrong person and as luck would have it, they killed the person they were shooting at and it was probably the wife whom heard a noise long before you even woke up and decided to investigate herself.  Getting back to the poor, "disturbed" kid, this is where the gun was ascertained from and then taken to school. 

One thing I have never been able to understand is the satisfaction of physically harming others.  What satisfaction is gained from that kind of action?  That kind of satisfaction is like taking drugs.  It feels good only for the moment, but when the moment is over, you have to do it again.  It doesn't last.  What is gained by taking another innocent victim's life whom had no interaction in the "role" that these kids play?  In my own life and experiences I have been backed into corners with no way out at times, but I have never resorted to taking the life of others.  Maybe my own, but never others.  Only at that last moment did realization take over, and yes, even "the hand of God" reached out and showed me that my life was more precious than I realized.  For not being a "christian" or practicing Christianity, this was an astounding moment in my life.   I have always thought about others before myself.  I have always helped others before I helped myself.  I always care for and about others before myself.  It was at that moment that God reached out and asked me just to think about myself for just one moment and visualize what I was doing.  I stopped in midstream of trying to take my life and I have been the happier for it.  Although I still do not practice Christianity, nor do I even wish to promote it or any other religion, I do not take my life for granted nor anyone else's.   Each life is precious, no matter how small a role in this vast, disappointing world that we live in.  I do not take it for granted.  To the dismay of others whom do not feel that or try as they might to keep me from having any importance in life, my retribution is that I have continued to live on where other classmates have passed away earlier in life from one of life's diseases.  That is my Karma.  That is their Karma and all it requires is just a little time and patience.  For these kids, we must chip away at the ice that contains all that emotion.  We must defuse the bomb that is ticking away inside.  Become these kid's confidant.  Help them.  Invite them into our lives sometime.  Throw water on the fire that is burning inside them and help them discover "things" from another perspective.  As the old saying goes, "Two heads are better than one". 

Now, more lives were taken than has been realized.  Not only the injured students, the ones that have been killed, but also the innocent by standers, the witnesses, the survivors, the parents of the attending students, even TJ Lane himself.  He may have been a "good" kid as described by one of his classmates, but now, he will be warehoused as "damaged goods" for the rest of his life.  A kid with good grades in school that will never be able to amount to more than a hill of beans outside the joint.  He will never see the outside again.  So, rather than striking at the desired subject that he wanted to strike at, he misfired and caused more damage than can be realized.  If people could only write down their emotions, put them down and come back and read them again when they reach a better frame of mind.  Or, at least let a trustworthy friend that can be confided in and allow them to read them.  If that could only be done, there is so much "pressure" that could be released, that one cannot realize the relief that can be gained.

Expressions

I have associated with teenagers before whom in conversation have expressed some difficulty in their life.  Because of the direction the conversation would take, they must have been looking for a response, so I responded with my own experiences and how I handled them at the time.  Because of my response to their explanation, and my suggestions of how they might try handling their predicament, they then responded with, "You must be a "preacher".  It's not a matter of preaching.  If they weren't feeling some uncomfortableness in their life, they wouldn't be expressing themselves to me.  If they were expressing themselves to me, then there must have been some sign that their parents weren't interested in their feelings and emotions.  They must have been too caught up in their own lives to pay attention and listen to their children.  Some children act out violently because it is the only reaction they know to respond with.  That isn't the answer either.  The answer isn't to get back at them.  One never wants to get back at another.  They should always get even.  Getting even is a "punishment" that fits the "crime".  A child that gets so harassed, so ridiculed, so persecuted that they feel compelled to take a gun to school to "even" the score is not the answer.  That child is only getting back.  He is not getting even.  That does no good what so ever except to get someone hurt and usually, it is the innocent bystanders that get hurt.  For the child that feels this uncomfortable in life, the answer cannot be found in a day.  It can't be found in a week.  It may not even be found in a month.  It takes a great deal of contemplation.  Even outside intervention may be needed.  An immediate response is only "looking" for trouble and it will be trouble that there will be no turning back on and could even be detrimental not only to the victim, but innocent bystanders.  Patience.  As quoted by Pema Chodron, "Buddhism teaches us that patience is the antidote to anger and aggression."  One needs to stop, wait, and get "smart" about his reaction.  Whatever you do, whatever you say at that moment, it will be wrong.  His blog expresses what I cannot.  He teaches what I cannot put into words.  If everyone were to read his blog, it is my feeling many people would react differently toward one another and the world would be a better place with his teaching.  Soon, everything comes around and falls into place just as you would be hoping for.  It's all about patience.

If parents would take a moment from their busy lives, if they would put down the remote for a moment, if only they would sit with their children and allow conversation to come from them, let it flow like water from a fall; don't force it; observe and listen, then maybe they might discover something about their children.  However, those children that never speak about issues in their life, they are hiding something.  What they are hiding is only destructive to those whom love them the most.  What they don't realize is that when they hide things, they are pushing away the most important people in their life.  When they make an unsatisfactory choice, the reaction they receive may not be the one they are looking for and one of two things will happen.  Either they will lose the one that loves them the most, or the one that loves them the most will be lost forever.  The result will be the same.  For those in an uncomfortable situation, don't be afraid to express yourself.  Just be smart about who you express yourself to.  Above all, don't feed your enemy.  Just be patient.

Low Spark Of High Heeled Boys

There is a song that has some meaning behind this wonderful family of mine.  The song is called, "Low Spark Of High Heeled Boys", written by Steve Winwood and Jim Capaldi.  One of the verses is:

If I gave you everything that I owned and asked for nothing in return
Would you do the same for me as I would for you?
Or would you take me for a ride and strip me of everything, including my pride
But spirit is something that no one destroys
And the sound that I'm hearing is only the sound
The low spark of high heeled boys.

Well.  I have been taken for a ride by my brother.  He wasn't able to have children of his own so he "stole" mine.  He interfered with my relationship with my children by providing the things of which I could not provide, so now my selfish, simple, weak minded children will no longer have anything to do with me.  As I explained to them before, I don't pay people to stay away.  If they want to come and visit with me, then we can talk about their needs.  But if they don't want to bother with me, then they needn't bother with asking me for money.  So, the big ol' bro has stripped me of everything that meant a great deal to me and even my pride, but the one thing he can't strip me of is my spirit.  My spirit beckons me to step over the mine field and keep on moving through this war.  Those that drop along the way in battle, I don't even look back and worry about, just like a mercenary soldier.   I can't worry about them.  If I do, then it only brings me down.  The ol' bro and my ex-wife may have crushed my pride, but they have yet to crush my spirit.  His hatred of me has become such that he kept my mother's funeral services from me and I was never allowed to attend.  I was never allowed to say goodbye.  I will continue to rub that in too.  I wouldn't be surprised one day that I be out on the street one day and his only way to shut me up is to shoot me.

But I have digressed quite a bit from the point of this blog.  The point of this blog is for children whom feel they walk in my shoes, or parents who find their children walk in my shoes is to look at the situations that have transpired and try to correct the paths that lie before them and smooth them out.  You have to allow your children to get hurt sometime.  They need to experience disappointment.  You can't protect them all the time.  But, you cannot allow for their self esteem to be crushed like a spider underfoot.  Mine has been at times.  I have been able to recover, but probably not in the manner I should have.  I am not proud of some of the things I describe in The Train Runs No More.  They were a release for me at the time, that provided me satisfaction.  I have been driven to the point of suicide, but to the dismay of others, I managed to pull myself out of that mud.  You cannot allow your children to be so harassed by others that they are simply crushed and find no way to discover satisfaction even if it is only within themselves.  I am appalled by those that feel compelled to humiliate others so much that their victim can only find relief through suicide.  I am appalled by a mother of a boy who cannot bring herself to confront the mother of a girl that likes her son and just make a simple request of the mother to change her daughters mind.  Even closer to home, a teacher that has moved into the neighborhood tries very hard to control the other neighbors around her whom have been in the hood for years.  But because she is a teacher at a local elementary school and I will not succumb to her wishes, she tries to set me up for a malicious crime which she was unsuccessful at pulling off.  The bullying never stops at any age and for of all people, a school teacher to do what she has done, she should know better.  So, after I turned up the fire a little and drew attention to her actions, she had a choice.  Lose her job as a teacher or back the hell off.  It has been approximately three years now since she pulled her little stunt.  She doesn't even look my way anymore.  Even the local police know who I am and they even know I wouldn't attempt what she was trying her damnedest to assert.  So you see?  It never stops.  Some people never grow up, and bullying is at all levels, and in all facets of life.  It all depends on how much energy one wants to give it to keep the action going.  The best approach is just to tell these people to shove it up their ass and keep on moving.  The sound that you hear is only the low spark of high heeled boys.

Bullying Can Take On All Forms

Have you realized that bullying can take on all forms?  No?  Maybe you're fat and there's some skinny people picking on you because your fat.  Maybe you're skinny and people of average weight are picking on you because your skinny.  Maybe you have red hair and people "pick on a ginger"or you speak with some form of accent foreign to the geographical region.  Maybe there is some physical appearance that you have, handicapped or otherwise, that is not the norm of the immediate "community".  Maybe you act differently, or think differently, or maybe you're not the same religious faith as someone else.  Bullying can take many different forms and it spans many different walks of life.  Even into your own family.  One of your children has a problem with the other and they pester the crap out of them until they get what they want.  Maybe a husband isn't getting some form of satisfaction that he needs and it isn't always about sex, so he beats the crap out of his wife on a regular basis.  Or it could be the other way around.  It's been known that the wife will do the same thing.  Maybe, after your children grow up and you don't do what they ask you to do, therefore you don't get to see your grandchildren.  Really?  Seriously?  Bullying can span all walks of life even into religion.  Yes, my faithful, Christian followers!  Even into religion.

Take my particular case for instance.  In school, I didn't think like others and I didn't act like others, so I only had a few friends.  I didn't play sports like others, therefore, I was deemed uncoordinated.  Because I was uncoordinated, Guitar Playing Man proceeded to attack me one day while playing basketball.  And we were supposed to be friends.  After that, we were still friends, but the "feeling" just wasn't the same.  The many years difference between me and my brother made life difficult for me as well.  He was older.  His physique was larger, therefore, he was "smarter".  Really?  In what way?  So far, he has been able to destroy the relationship I used to have with my daughter.  He wasn't too compliant at my father's funeral either.  And my mother's funeral services?  He did have the courtesy to tell me she passed, but he never told me she was so ill that she had to be hospitalized.  I never got to speak with my mother before she died, to his satisfaction.  He told me there would be funeral services for her after her body had been cremated.  That was a year ago.  I'm still waiting for those funeral services to happen.  Just how long does it take to cremate a body anyway?  I know with my mother-in-law, it only took about three months.  If I were stopped on the side of the road somewhere and I was on fire, and if my brother were just happening to be driving by, he would only stop long enough to throw gasoline on me just to watch me burn faster. 

I didn't have the same religious faith as others I had gone to school with.  The more I looked at my own faith and began to realize how hypocritical it was, then I began to ask questions.  When I asked questions, I received a brow beating and if it wasn't that, then I was preached to by those of other faiths until I couldn't be preached to anymore, and then they preached to me some more.  When I didn't succumb to believing , then I was ostracized.

I had friend that would treat me a certain way that I felt was against the grain of the way I wanted to be treated or spoken to.  When I confronted them with what they were doing or saying, then they felt as though I were bullying them because I was expressing my feelings to them.  Because most of them were no longer allowed to treat me this way or that, they then became no longer my friends.  As the old saying goes, "if it doesn't feel good, don't do it".  Well, the treatment of me didn't feel good and I didn't like it, so I would no longer allow it to happen.  Since I would not allow it to happen anymore, the friends I do have are few, but at least we care about each other and we care for each other, and we are "there" for each other.

Bullying can take on many different faces, many different places.  Some white people feel that the blacks have to be beat until the color of their skin becomes white.  Jews don't believe that Jesus Christ is the savior that other faiths believe in and other races therefore feel their very existence must be destroyed.  Gay people must be beat until they become straight again.  If you are not a Christian, you are either beat with prayer sessions until you do become a Christian or you're ostracized.  Christians don't believe Catholics are of a christian, believing faith.  Does it really matter so long as they believe?   And if I choose not to believe but still use the bible as a moral guide, which I find some Christians not even doing, all I find is them reciting verses at the appropriate time as a useful, defensive weapon as a demonstration of their faith in God, then that is my choice as long as I treat others as I want to be treated.  But because of my feelings, I must be ostracized.

Seriously?  Is that all you have?  I come home and I close the front door and lock it.  Once I am home, I don't worry about another freaking thing unless I choose a subject that I want to be worried about.  So, ostracize away.  Keep my grandchildren away from me because if you believe that your Christian practicing mother is doing the right thing by inciting you to hate your father so much that you can't even bear to mention my name, then I don't even want to see your children that have been raised by someone with so much hate in their heart.  You continue on practicing your Christianity and your Missions to the Netherlands.  Go save your hookers of another land instead of trying to help people right here at home.  Hypocrites!

Bullying can take on all forms.

It's Only My Humble Opinion

I want to point out the fact that I am a professor of nothing.  As I have stated before, I have performed no scientific studies.  I have taken no particular surveys.  I have only performed my own personal observations, and have formed my own humble opinion.  I have run into situations, stopped and looked at the situation and have asked myself why.  Then I began to look at others and "watch" for answers.  But, I was trying to compare apples to oranges and the results weren't "true" results.

You have raised a child for years, five years, seven years, nine years.  Both parents "ogled" over their child from birth, celebrating their child's birthdays with their friends, taking their child to Disneyland, Sixflags, Universal Studios, presenting them with toys, and entertainment of all kinds, even being admired and appreciated by the friends and relatives of the parents. The Easter Bunny only has to visit one basket, and Santa Claus only has one choice of a plate of cookies to choose from.  Life is wonderful. Then one find day another child comes along.  The first child has "had it all to himself/herself" all these years.  Now, there's an invasion.  An invasion to the presentation to Santa Claus.  The Easter Bunny has to bring an extra load of eggs.  Half the toys at Christmas now belong to somebody else.  Attention from the parents is now being divided between the older and the younger child.  The older child doesn't get all of the admiration of others that they used to get.  The older child has been to school long enough to "learn reason".  They have been to school long enough to know how to manipulate.  We try to teach acceptance.  They have acquired something that we all try to teach our children not to do-hate.  Few are taught what selfishness is.  Few parents recognize what selfishness is.  In some cases selfishness can coexist with hate.  None of this means that the parents love the older child any less than the "newer" younger child.  It's just different.  It has to be different in order to bring the younger child up in the world.  But in the eyes of the older child, it is not viewed this way.  Their territory has now been invaded by an uninvited guest.  No matter how much time has been spent preparing the older child for a new member to the family, the physical presence is not realized until it happens.

This is something that must be contemplated.  Parents should realize what the results of such a situation might be.  Not that that will be.  Again, this is no scientific study.  This is something that should be discussed between the parents to see if they really want to do this.  This is not about abortion.  That discussion is for another blog and not mine.  Each individual has their own situation and all of America can not decide for an individual what is best for them because they are not in that situation and this is an argument that will go on until the end of time.  This blog is not the place for that.  My discussion is only the results that have occurred in my family and the discoveries that I have made.  One discovery that I have made is that I was a mistake.  It was unfortunate for my parents that they were going to have another child and especially so many years later, but they never thought twice about it.  It happened.  I happened and they made the best of it.  However, I don't think my sibling brother has ever made the best of it.  It has been trying most of my life with my brother.  With my friends and acquaintances that have siblings, there are maybe one or two years apart from each other and life is wonderful for them even into their elder years.  That has not been the case in mine.  I have paid dearly all these years.  Only now am I able to look back at the mine field and decipher where I should have done this or should have done that and maybe life would not have turned out the way it has.  I have also learned that one cannot change the mindset of the other.  Each has to do it on their own, and they have to make their own decisions.  How much pain does one want to endure?  How much conflict does one want to continue with?  Just as my ex-wife has asked me once, "If life is so bad for you, then why don't you just kill yourself?"  Her statement was then followed up with, "At least I will get the insurance money and live better".  She did make me stop and think if I was really "seeing" everything in a negative way.  However, the company I worked for at the time covered their employees with a ten thousand dollar life insurance policy.  Ten thousand dollars.  Is that all it takes for her to live "better"?  Ten thousand dollars"?  Really?  And then insurances don't pay if there is death by suicide.  For that, I should have gotten out a long time ago.  Maybe it would have cost me less after all this time.  She has hoped that I would commit suicide ever since.  And somehow she has also been able to "charm" my older brother as well.  That couldn't have been too hard though since he has hated my very existence from birth.  He has interfered with my relationship with my children ever since the divorce and now my ex-wife has gotten exactly what she had hoped for.  She hoped for the longest time that my children would never see me again.  They haven't.  For minds that weak that they can't see through the smoke and mirrors, I have to let all of that go if I want to have a more satisfying, fulfilling life.  If I have to make sacrifices just for me to go through life without depression, so be it.  There are some lyrics by John Lennon that state:

 "You ask me for a contribution
Well, you know
We're doing what we can
But when you want money
For people with minds that hate
All I can tell is brother you have to wait"

The only time my daughter contacted me was to ask for a contribution to go to Europe so that she could pray for a bunch of hookers in Germany that chose to be in that profession.  She hadn't seen me for two or three years by that time and then she sent me an email asking for a contribution.  No phone call.  Just an email.  She can't visit with her father, but she can go to Europe for the benefit of some hookers?  You must be kidding me.  Needless to say, I did not contribute and she has not spoken to me since, so the Missions to the Netherlands in my humble opinion with have to wait.

Research before bringing another child into the "world" so far apart from the next oldest child.  Find out what the repercussions are of having children so far apart.  Are you willing to endure the headaches and tolerances they you will have to go through or present you with?  Are you so special that you will be able to make smooth the paths between the two?  Are you willing to do this until the day you die?  My mother had to die with me being prevented from hearing her last words or even being allowed to attend her funeral services.  She had to die with her family in shambles.  It's only my humble opinion.

Making Sacrifices

Once I was out of high school, that was the time to become an "adult".  You don't have to go to college if you don't want to.  It's a smarter road to take, but you don't have to if you don't want to.  It takes money to go.  If you don't have it, you need to get it.  You need to apply for loans.  You need to have all the right answers on the applications.  You need to present all the right "papers".  My father on the other hand, felt the need to remain as "private" as possible.  That meant that as few people as possible needed to know what he did with his money or where it came from and that included colleges, universities, and the IRS.  Since he would not allow copies of his tax returns to be presented to the colleges and universities for application, that meant I was stopped dead in the water.  I tried to apply for government loans.  At that time, a government quota had to be met.  They wanted diversity in their school.  Upon application to a Houston university I was stopped because I wasn't a member of a minority that there was a quota for.  Much as the case of Allen Bakke vs The Regents of University of California , I didn't have the money to fight the issue and my parents didn't want to go to the trouble.  I kept trying to figure out how I could live on my own and go to school.  Sacrifices.  It's all about sacrifices and facing those fears.  Earlier in high school, I had injured my back working at a local grocery store.  I injured it in such a manner that the pain would not allow me to move my legs and for a short while I could not work.  It took me a year to recover.  Afterwards, trying to find a job was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.  Since I injured my back, almost no where could I find a job.  Talk about having adversity in life.  I grew up with a shithead brother that really didn't want a brother to start with.  I had to go to school where I got picked on since I didn't "fit in".  I tried fighting back, but that didn't work because all I got was in trouble.  Now, that I had become an "adult", I couldn't seem to support myself.  If I couldn't support myself, how was I ever going to support a girlfriend that someday I had hoped to marry.  My doctor sat me down in his office one day after examining my back x-rays and explained to me that with my particular injury, I would not be able to do this kind of work or that kind of work.  More than likely I would be living with my parents for quite a very long time.  Really doc?  Would you just like to pull the trigger now and spare me the pain and humiliation of being a weakling in adulthood also?  Really?  Reflecting on all of this, I did have it pretty good at home.  My clothing was paid for.  My food was paid for.  My electricity, gas, water, rent, everything was paid for.  My parents didn't believe in giving me an allowance.  "Allowance"?  Allowance for what?  I never did understand that.  If I needed money, I just asked and told them what I needed it for.  I was honest with them and they were honest with me.  So, I asked and I received.  If I were to move out into my own apartment, having trouble trying to find a job and wanting to go to school at the same time, there would have to be an awful lot of sacrifices that I would have to make of which I was not willing to.  So, I stayed home and went to a local community college paying for it myself with what measly little part-time job I could locate until I couldn't afford it anymore.  Also, looking at the future with my current girlfriend, as attractive as she was, I let her go and sent her on her way because I just knew I would not be able to support her.  I also went and bought a bicycle.  I didn't like being told "I can't".  I bought a bike and began riding long distances and eventually riding up to a hundred miles in a day.   After a time of riding like that, I built my back muscles up and I was able to find work of any kind.  I even did some construction work for a while when I was told I wasn't supposed to.  I was not going to be kept down.  But, by that time, I had lost my girlfriend, and I had to move on.  I made sacrifices after all and I had to keep my chin up while doing it.  I had made sacrifices after all.

The Do Gooder

So, my ex-wife left.  She left taking the children without my permission.  She left playing on my ignorance and fear of the law.  I was trying to be nice throughout the whole ordeal.  Nice.  In a divorce, one cannot be "nice".  Your being "nice" will be taken advantage of every time.  I certainly didn't find the proper attorney either.  I did a little research and found that mostly, the men that had male attorneys did not gain as much as the ones whom had female attorneys.  I relied upon a female attorney.  I also did not read the "signs".  You know.  What I had discussed earlier in this blog.  When I walked into her office, there were books all over the floor and papers every where, all in disarray.  With an office such as this I was wondering how her practice was.  I sat and talked with her and she talked a good game.  After spending my money with her, it turned out she couldn't do a thing for me anyway because my wife had run back to her home state which she had not been in for eight months.  My ignorance of the law.  During the process, my brother played on my emotions and ignorance.  After a life time with the bastard treating me as though I was the gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, I still played into his hands.  He was the information gatherer for my wife and she used it all against me.  As she professed, she made sure that the children would never see me again.  Only, that was after my daughter would turn eighteen.  Remember, my son had ADHD and he would listen to no one.  He stayed in touch as long as he was able to get financial help from me.  But, if the help was not there, I would not hear from him.  The good ol' bro was explaining how I should be and how I should react and what I should do for the children, all the while, he was giving my soon to be ex-wife money and food to support the children.  Falling back to the definition of bully.  I didn't realize it until too late and I was still trying to be nice so that I could still see my children.  After it was all said and done, the children also became the information gatherers and when there was no more information to gather, there were no more visits from them.  And the daughter also turned eighteen.  Even so, she made another attempt of getting money from me.  She told me, "God needed money so that she could go to Germany and pray for some hookers".  Sounded to me like Oral Roberts was on the attack again.  First, if God needed the money, why didn't he contact me himself?  Second, if some hookers in Germany needed her prayers to help them leave the business, why couldn't she pray for them right here at home just like we do for our soldiers off in another land fighting a foreign war?  Third, by this time, she was now into her college years of religious indoctrination and she didn't feel the need to visit with me any longer.  If someone needed money, I would give it to those that come and visit with me.  I was not going to pay someone to stay away from me.  I'm quite sure she could do that on her own.  Instead, she turned to the good ol' bro and he supplied her the money.  The good ol' bro.  The "do gooder".  It seems to me if he wanted to do some good, he would have encouraged the ex to get the son on medication so he could be closer to "normal" whatever normal is.  And if he was any kind of brother at all, he would have stayed the fuck out of my affairs rather than fuck up the relationship I had with my daughter.  Instead, since he was married to a bitter, selfish, dyke-like woman that was just like him, he encouraged my daughter just to stay away.  Hell!  He already hated my guts for coming into the picture at birth and infiltrating in territory.  Now, he had to bust up everything that meant anything to me.

Finally realizing all of this, still having the dream that has plagued me for so long, I decided to follow the suggestions of professional psychologists and start a journal.  Writing a journal of all of my emotions was actually a release of my contained emotions.  It began to flow out like Niagara Falls and I began to let go.  Once I began to let go, all things began to fall in place.  Once they started to fall in place, I began to step over the debris and find my way.  I found my way to satisfaction and happiness.  And no more dreams However, the ones trying to make me feel bad as a person, still make their attempt at trying to make me feel bad.  What pisses them off the most is the fact that I have found my satisfaction and happiness and they obviously have not.  The things that they attempt to do to me just runs off like water on a ducks back and it pisses them off even more because they don't know what to do now except just to keep me ostracized.  Really?  Is that all that you have?  Really?  I am still alive and well.  I haven't committed suicide at your behest.  Is that really all that you have?

Focused

As a parent, you want to give as much room to your child as possible, but at the same time you want to set limits.  In other words, when you take your child to a friends house for a visit, do you want to be asked back, or is your friend anxious and looking for a nice way to ask you to hurry up and leave so that they can put back all the things they had to take out of your children's hands that they weren't supposed to pick up to start with?  As often quoted by our grandparents, children should be seen and not heard.  In other words, "Here are some things I will allow you to play with and quietly so that I may talk to your mother, but beyond that, you may not play with anything you want in this house and you may not get so loud that I cannot hear your mother speak".  Rarely is that practiced today by parents and I simply can't wait for them to leave my house and God forbid they ever come back.  If a parent notices that their child not only is focused upon something, but becomes obsessed with it, that is not a good thing.  In the case of my son, afflicted with ADHD, not only did he focus on whatever it was at the time that by either removing the item or removing him, he became angry.  He became so angry that he "turned blue in the face".  Sometimes I would have to physically restrain him in my arms until he calmed down to let him know that "play time" was over.  This is the time to notice that there may be something not right with the child.  After growing up and "learning" what to do...lie, cheat, steal, defy...once focused, they don't change if they are not medicated.  In his case, at his high school he was introduced to the United States Army by way of a school "presentation".  The Army was in search of a new crop of soldiers.  They presented to the high school students just how much fun it is to be in the Army.  They did not present the fact that they have to follow orders 24/7.  They didn't present the fact that their uniform must be wrinkle free, or make their own bed, or organize their trunk, or even so much as respond with "Yes Sir!"  All my son was able to focus on was the fact that it looked like fun to join.  He signed up without my permission, but he was over eighteen at the time.  His birthday came after the start of school, so that's why he was still eighteen and still in high school.  When he began his shenanigans and I explained to him that I had had enough, I sent him back to his mother whom got rid of him in the first place because she could no longer handle him.  She didn't care if he got into the Army.  She was rid of him.  As a young child, he couldn't follow orders.  "Learning the legalities of what children can do after turning eighteen", he didn't have to follow mine either.  I gave him a choice.  The street or his mother.  He couldn't follow orders in the Army either.  He wound up with seventeen discrepancies of not being accommodating to a soldier and was later "less than honorably" discharged.  Something of which to this day he will deny because he no longer possesses all the copies of his DD214 that he once showed me.  They don't exist in his possession, therefore the charges did not happen.  He was focused on a girl while here, I explained would not be a good  choice for him.  After being sent back to his mother, he was so focused on her that he came back to marry her while he was in the Army.  She happens to be an illegal immigrant with thirty other members of her family that all live with her under one roof.  All of them illegal.  And, they are pumping out the anchor babies like it is going out of style.

If a couple is going to have children, they need to be agreeable parents, they need to concentrate on the future of their children, and they need to do what is best for the child.  In my son's case, had he been handled properly, medically, I believe his future would have been brighter.  As it is now, he and his family will be nothing more than wards of the welfare system.  I am of the opinion that parents really need to pay attention to the daily lives of their children, turn off the television, put down the cell phone, and interact with their children.  Even medicated, they can become something special as is the case with Michael Phelps.

Some People Never Grow Up

Some people aren't mature enough to get married.  Some people are more mature than others. Some are too selfish to get married.  Some are too hateful.   Some never grow up.  And some, have no idea about marriage.  In my case, maybe I was too young, and my wife then, was too selfish as well as too young.  I was twenty five.  Twenty five.  It's only a number.  Maybe inside, I was going on sixteen.  Not that I still wanted to party.  I just saw things in a different light than what I thought it was supposed to be.  I grew up thinking marriage is supposed to be filled with love, giving, caring, respect, and yes I can't forget sex.  The sex was there that's for sure.  I think we were about equal in not being able to get enough.  But, unbeknownst to me, my ex-wife had hidden well the fact that she had ADHD.  We had some vial arguments.  I'm not going to say that I was an angel, but sometimes I didn't even know what I did except give enough in "things" that she wanted.  In the arguments, her name calling came out unlike what I had imagined marriage to be.  Sometimes I would wonder how I ever fell for this person, but I was married now, and there was no turning back.  I did not want to be another government statistic on failed marriages.  Eventually, I was given no choice.  I lost that battle.  Along with that, the older sibling brother whom held a dislike for me since the day I invaded his territory, began waging a war against me that hasn't quit yet.  As I said, some people never grow up.  It was a long, arduous battle.  It still wages on.  I don't know whom he is battling with now, but in that war, knowing that I lost, I walked away.  I no longer exist.  I no longer exist in his eyes, my ex-wife's eyes, or my children's eyes.  My ex-wife told me when she left, she would make damned sure I never saw my children again.  She has held true to her word.  A nice thing coming from one who praises the Lord day in and day out.  She told my mother one time she is even praying for her glorification in God so that when she meets with Him, she will be virgin again and bear his children.  Talk about being eaten up with religious crap!  One child is lost with all that religious indoctrination and I will never be able to see her again.  The other is lost with not treating his ADHD and going through life feeling everyone else is a fault, but him.  People have as much disdain for the word "retarded" as they do for the "N" word.  What they don't realize is a handicapped person is one that realizes that they are deficient in some manner and acquire as much help as they possibly can so that they can "make" it through life.  A retarded person is one that has an affliction and refuses help of any kind and refuses to acknowledge that they have a problem.  My son has ADHD really bad, refuses to medicate, and finds everyone else at fault.  My son wound up in jail for assault on his pregnant wife.  After my help of getting him out of jail, I have not seen him since.  He also is lost and most probably from the beckoning of my ex-wife and "loving" brother.

So, during the divorce, I stepped back.  I stepped back into drugging because my ex had visions of taking all of my money.  Her goal was to break me as much as possible, and going back to her original wish early in our marriage, that I commit suicide.  Obviously, the latter never happened.  My goal was to show I had too many expenses except to take care of my children to the limits of the law, which I did.  I was drugging again because it felt good inside.  It took away the pain.  It made me feel good on the outside.  I could "see" things "I ain't never seen before".  I was finding satisfaction.  But, it wasn't enough.  Finally, I reached for an area that my ex was hoping for.  But, I got interrupted.  After that, I decided to take a trip across the country for my vacation that I earned from work.  I packed up my backpack and hitchhiked across the country.  During my week of hitchhiking, I was finding fresh air, God's sunlight, and association with people that I would ordinarily not have met.  I also forgot to take my drugs with me.  The withdrawals began while out on the road.  The one thing about it, I don't possess that gene that tells me I am going to be addicted to this or to that.  While out on the road, I had to quit because I had no choice.  Recognizing the symptoms, sometimes I would turn down rides.  I didn't want people to see me like that.  My withdrawal wasn't as bad as other people's withdrawals.  I have been around some that I would just rather shoot them between the eyes with a 12 gauge shotgun just to put them out of their misery.  By the end of two weeks, I was my old self again, appreciating the fact that I was still alive, even more so, that I defied the wishes of my ex-wife and sibling brother.  To this day, he has yet to give up on trying to crush me, yet I continue to step over his debris field, and march on because I have to.  And that is what pisses him off the most.  I ignore all his attempts.  I move on and I am satisfied.

They Never Give Up

Some how one of the dumb asses in high school who used to get picked on just like me and bullied once in a while was able to contact me by letter when I was in St. Louis, Mo.  He was one of twin brothers that I went to high school with.  As a child, we would ride our bicycles together around the neighborhood and we attended catechism together. I used to go over to his house to get him to go riding and there his father would be sitting in his lounge chair watching television in his underwear and drinking beer way past drunkenness.  It didn't matter if the daughter was in the house, he was still in the front room in his underwear.  It didn't matter if visitors came over, he's still in his underwear.  I don't believe I ever met the man when he was sober.  The daughter wound up marrying the first thing that came along just to get out of the house-her second cousin.  The only difference between this guy and I was he joined the school football team as a coaches assistant-a butt wipe to all the football players.  And they picked on him to no end. 

He had reached me right when I was going through a layoff at the aircraft plant there.  I sat down and read his letter.  Then I read it again, this time reading between the lines.  The last time I was contacted about a high school reunion and I called back to find out when and where, the person that I was speaking with did not recognize the name I was using at the time, but when discovering who I was, she hung up.  Now, reading this letter, he was only contacting be because he was urged to do so by the rest of the cronies there to see if I committed suicide yet.  I threw his letter away, never let it effect me, and I moved on through the lay off without any help from anyone else.  Years later, I was contacted again by the same guy, not only by phone, but also by email.  By phone, I spoke with him about five minutes or less, and I gave him too much information-I'm still alive-and then I followed up with a reply to his email.  He never answered back.  It was only a ploy by the "others" in high school, still using him as a dumb ass, to find out if I was still alive.  They never give up.  They feel that by ostracizing me from the class reunion will in some way effect me.  I refused to give them any energy when I went to school with them.  Why would I want to give them any now that I am way out of school having built a more responsible "life"?  Thet never give up and they never will give up.  I have found out that several of them have died off from poor health, others are locked up in the joint, and others themselves have committed suicide.  I on the other hand am in good health and plan on defying their wishes.  It all depends on the amount of energy that you want to apply to it.  I have never looked back.  I have always moved forward.  With or without their entity they rely upon called God, if heathens like them use their god as their staff, I will choose another entity and do with it what I think best.  So far, I have managed not to fulfill their wishes, but to carry on a happier life than I had then, despite all the odds thrown at me.

The Debris Field

I never thought that I would "make it" after leaving high school.  Having lived a life so far of being ridiculed by both family and friends, I didn't have the best self esteem there ever was.  I grew up with a mother whose "post" was always in the kitchen holding a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other.  I grew up with a father that was the nicest man that walked the face of the earth, but he put up with a lot of crap.  If you ever crossed him, he had a temper.  Although he would get frustrated and angry at times when he spanked, he never abused us.  As described earlier, I grew up with a brother who never could say anything to me without ridiculing me.  I went to catechism on Saturdays only to find priests stumbling around from having too much wine, or speaking coarsely to the parishioners as one did to my mother when I had an altercation there and I didn't even start it.  There was a nun I knew that once she met a man, she couldn't rip that habit off soon enough to get in bed with the guy. I was surrounded by such fine examples that I could almost just throw up.  These fellow classmates in high school that tried to "save" me for Christ also were in the backseat of their boyfriends car hammering it out contrary to what they would preach to me.  When one of these students parents found out what their nice daughter was doing, they yanked her from school and moved to Georgia.  Never heard from her again.  I even had an art teacher who couldn't even speak decent English ridicule me of a craft project that she gave each of us to do.  Because she didn't understand the design of it, it meant nothing to her and therefore, was nothing but crap to her.  It was the yin and yang Chinese design symbolizing how things interact with one another.  Because of her public ridicule of me right there in class, it's a wonder Adolf Hitler was not reborn again.  Being bombarded by all these people, plus the ridicule adding to the stress of trying to find myself, I was having this dream every night of being run over by a train.  Every night.  I would wake up in a cold sweat and then go back to sleep once I realized it was only a dream.  Some people don't realize what they do to another when they constantly ridicule.  Or maybe they do and it's sad that they don't feel guilty that they drove their victim to suicide.  They walk away, unfeeling of what they do and absolve themselves with the graciousness of God.  Contrary to that, some parents try to boost their children with everything that they do is right, when one can see that what they do is definitely wrong.  There is a matter of encouraging a child, but when the child is electrocuting a creature to death, I can't see why the parents write it off as a science project.  This being described in The Train Runs No More.  Again, Karma came back around on that one.

Having excelled in my field of aircraft work, ascertaining a salary that I found quite liveable, and having money left over at the end of the week that I didn't know what to do with, I found quite astonishing to myself.  I looked back at my classmates and those that I still heard about were making merely a living.  Big deal.  What I was doing, I did not even have to sell drugs doing it.  I built quite a bank account too.  I am so glad that I never hooked up with one girl from school who married a fireman only to wind up getting herself beat up on a daily basis and raped after.  She was merely looking for a financially supporting father to her daughter.  She wasn't looking for a husband that could love her and her love him.  She deemed me not capable of being financially supportive.  She found one of those, weeks after she left me.  It was so quick, I know being loved by her did not enter the picture.

Having this element of life to grow up with, I left, but I left with baggage that I thought cared for me, and later turned out that she also only wanted to be taken care of.  Without going over the same history again, I kept my chin up and marched on through the "mud of life" and am still doing well.  It just takes time and patience to find that satisfaction.  Some try to find it immediately, some search for a while, others never find it.  When it is found, others are not happy for you and never will be.  They try as much as they can to disrupt that satisfaction that has been found.  If you ignore them, that only pisses them off more, and they try to rub you out of the picture.  So they did that.  So what?  If people are that easily led that they can forget all about you, then they never cared for you in the first place.  All you can do is just step over the debris and keep on marching.  It's either you or them.  Who is most important?  You or them?

Through The Eyes Of A Child

We as "normal", for whatever "normal" is, responsible parents of children that are different try to raise our children the best that we can.  We who are attentive try to notice something in our children.  We may notice a great talent in our children.  We may notice something peculiar.  We may see that they don't do "what others do"  We may notice difference in them.  Those parents that are truly intent about their child, and most are not, just as the Moody Blues Song says, "With the eyes of a child You must come out and see...", if parents could just resolve themselves to see through the eyes of a child once, you will come out of your busy life, your daily stresses, your distractions of everyday life, and you will see what your child sees, what they are going through, and how they are reacting to the situation.  Just as in meditation, one must close off everything.  Shut the door on all distractions, stop concerning one's self with what must be done in the next moment, forget about their selfishness for a moment.  If a parent could just do that for a moment and visualize the world that their children are in, they just might be more helpful to their children.

When married to my first wife, I used to get down on the floor with my son.  I would not interfere with his play.  I would "study" him.  I would look at what he was playing with at the moment and try to visualize just what the heck is going on "upstairs".  My wife would be watching television, or doing some sort of craft that would only wind up in the corner collecting dust when complete, or doing something that had no business with the child.  I could almost see what he saw, but not quite.  What I could not see was the busy-ness that was taking place.  I could not see the infliction that was taking place.  Inside, it was growing like some bacterial disease.  He began to become less focused on any one subject.  He would become more upset with things he could not accomplish.  As our world around us began to change, the cold war coming to an end changing the economical needs of our country like less dependent upon military weapons, the aircraft industry which was an excellent paying job began to waiver and lay off people.  The stresses of a "new" life began to change.  I was less able to "see" and through no fault of myself and not blaming my wife at the time, We could not see that Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder was taking hold.  He was constantly irritating his younger sister.  Having grown up with a tormenting older brother,  I was not about to let that happen in a second generation.  All of these stresses not to mention having to move yet to another location just to keep employed, apparently was too much for my wife and she just left one day taking the kids with her.  By law, in her mind, she can take the kids with her anywhere she wants and there is nothing the husband can do about it.  Today, however, there is everything one can do about it, but without digressing, when you now have two parents, where one feels cheated in life and will do everything she possibly can to turn the children against their father, and having an ADHD child, this kind of situation can be very stressful, even a detriment to the child.  To add salt to the wound, I had a weak, "do gooder" brother that hated my every action.  When asked not to interfere, he became a monster only for his own selfishness instead of what was good for the child.

If we could only see through the eyes of a child.

We All Make Choices

People were created different for a reason.  If they weren't, life would get awfully boring.  Since people are different, those that have little imagination emulate  others that they like or hang around with.  Those that they don't like, they pester, they annoy, they torment, they persecute, they make them feel bad for even being a human being or being alive.  Those that are the victim, either rebel or cower.  If one rebels, then a group begins to form.  Strength in numbers right?  If one doesn't like another, why not just say, "I don't like you", and walk away.  But, NO!  They have to be insistent upon how much they don't like the other person.  They have to be so insistent that they have to create a group following.  The victim feels so insecure, so inadequate, so weak, that the perpetrator feels the need for them to lie prostrate on the ground begging for mercy and even at that sometimes it's not enough.  Just as that little girl in Missouri that liked a neighboring boy.  Because the mother found her to be different, or maybe not good enough for her little boy, she had to torment this little girl to the point of suicide.  What the little girl found fun, releasing her inner most feelings through the use of modern technology like a computer and My Space, became a weapon used against her until the mother received complete satisfaction-suicide by the little girl.  The mother may have been acquitted, but she will never be free of guilt.  She will have to answer to God.  I never paid close attention to the story, sort of like religious followers, "only pay attention to useful verses of the bible", but I'll bet that this mother after tormenting this girl, was in church every Sunday without missing a beat, praising the Lord, and giving great thanks to God, as do most religious hypocrites.  All through the week, they may be the devil, but on Sunday, they are God's greatest angel.


In days long past, people were helpful of one another.  They were considerate of one another.  If they did something wrong, they told you sorry and meant it.  Today, I don't know one person that can bring themselves to say the word sorry because just saying you're sorry is a sheer sign of weakness. People today plot, they contrive, they scheme, of just how they can take something and turn it into a weapon.  Whether it be one's birthday, or some holiday, they conspire just how they can spoil something special to someone they don't like.  What's worse is that if it happened to them in childhood they raise their children to be even more conniving so that what they didn't get to accomplish in their childhood they will accomplish through their children in adulthood.  These people never grow up and bullying never goes away.  It just takes on different forms with newer technologies;  all in the name of God.  And these very people wonder why I resist religion.  Anything can be used the wrong way.  Religion, when used the wrong way becomes the down fall of society.  These people prey on the weak and unfortunate.  The weak and unfortunate don't have the "eyes" to find their way.

In my own humble opinion, in the days when there was no television, cell phones, radio, or even board games as we know them today, no other distractions of the world, men sat down viewing the world as it was.    There also were those that prey upon the weak, that abuse the power they had, and mistreated those that could be intimidated.  These men sat down and wrote morality rules.  To give these rules of morality power, they also gave it a spiritual power from an entity that could not be reached by voice, sight, or written word.  Most likely, to enhance imagination, hashish or peyote, or whatever hallucinogen,  was used during these rituals.  They wrote these words as to how humans should react to one another, amongst one another, and how to love one another.  It is the greatest story ever told and should be read by everyone.  I do not feel it should be memorized so that when prompted, the proper verse can be recited at the proper moment as a weapon against evil.  This story should be taught to children as to how they should treat others, but not indoctrinated.  Within each of us is "god" if we just look for it.  But the lot of us do not.  It is found that there is more fun in sin than in sainthood.  We all make choices in life.  Some of them good.  Some of them bad.  Most probably that is the reason for so many "church goers".  To guide those who are doing evil, away.  Some use church as a basis for promoting their evil by pronouncing it "the word of God".  We all make choices.

Dream Fulfilled

I had the job of my dreams.  Actually, my dream was like that of every young child; to grow up and either be a spaceman or be the President of the United States.  At least that is what the teachers were trying to do with students in those days.  They were trying to broaden the students imaginations and possibilities of what could be.  Today, teachers aren't only there to teach reading, writing, and arithmetic.  They are there to impress their morality upon you, their politics, and their religious views.  As a student, if you did not accept their views of how life should be, then you received a low grade in the work performed.  Even more to the point, teachers are becoming more like the priesthood.  The people we entrust the most with the safety of our children are the very ones that take advantage of them and molest them.  In the priesthood, a child molester would hide out there.  Who would ever suspect a priest of any wrong doing such as that?  More and more, the teaching profession is becoming the same way.  They prey on the weak and those being entrusted to them.  It's all about trust.

I dreamed of being a spaceman and I came close.  I built airplanes, missiles, and spacecraft.  To be an astronaut I had to have thirty five thousand flight hours and a least a bachelor's of science degree in space aeronautics. I wasn't able to get into the military and I didn't have the money to continue my education.  However, I am still satisfied.  I was able to build spacecraft that we shot off to Jupiter and beyond.  With my field, I was able to get out of the small, crappy little city of San Antonio where things remained the same with little or no progress of the longest time.  I traveled throughout the United States, I lived with different cultures of the United States, and I have not remained so narrow minded as those I left behind, those afraid to leave the surroundings that they were comfortable with.  I haven't been able to do all things, but I have been able to do many.  I haven't been able to accomplish all things, but I have been able to accomplish many.  I have not gotten rich, but I have become comfortable.  I have no wants for anything especially for those belonging to religious cults that are so eaten up with worshiping GOD, praising the LORD, fellow-shipping, and performing missions to somewhere either helping or praying for people in some far off land instead of trying to help those in need right here in the United States, those that are so religious that they couldn't say shit if they had a mouth full of it.  I have my own beliefs and I help all people instead of those that I feel might win me a mark with GOD.  And best of all I am satisfied.

Which One Are You?

Lonely.  Merriam-Webster's definition of lonely is being without company, cut off from other human beings, not frequented by human beings, sad from being alone.  Alone.  Separated from others, exclusive of anyone or anything else, considered without reference to any other.  These are two labels that people like to use, but one more than the other.  The former is used more often to disgruntle others with, or to make them feel bad as a human being.  There is a difference between these two words.  Sometimes it's good to be alone, with your thoughts, maybe floating down a lazy river, relaxed in a canoe, absorbing the fresh air, the beautiful sky, the birds chirping, the gentle breeze rushing through the leaves of the trees that may be lining the shore.  Or maybe your sitting on a mountain side, looking across the valley, taking in the purple sky and amber waves of grain.  Being alone is not harmful.  Feeling lonely is.  If one allows themselves to be depressed and lonely, it is only due to the persecution of others.  It is only the wishes of others.  It was the wish of my ex-wife that I become lonely.  Her initial wish was that I commit suicide.  When I did not succumb to that wish, she kidnapped the joys in my life hoping that loneliness would effect me to the point of suicide.  I have not allowed that to take place either.  Loneliness and being alone are what you make of it.  I am never lonely.  I never allow myself to become lonely.  One should never allow themselves to be lonely.  One has friends and one has acquaintances.  Friends are those that one can tell secrets to and those secrets will be held tightly and not released to another soul.  Acquaintances are those that one socializes with, but when something personal is shared with them, they either use it against you, or they tell ten other people.  I have few friends.  My first best friend is myself.  My second best friend is my current wife, and my third best friends are my dogs.  Some of you may be married, yet your wife may not be your best friend.  She may only be your acquaintance.  Some of you that are married, your spouse is your best friend and that is the was it should be.  I never had that with my first wife.  She was not even my acquaintance.  She was simply someone that could take from me all that she could get without the stigma of being pregnant and unmarried.  Since it was my first wife's intention to crush me, I decided I was not going to allow that to happen as described in my book .  If I did not find solace in the nightclubs I frequented, I took my vacation that I built up at work, I packed up my backpack, and I hitchhiked.  I was alone with my thoughts at how best to approach the world with the rest of what I was allowed by others to have.  It was a plan to continue through my life with my best foot forward as they say and accept only the positive energy that the world has to offer.  I conversed with different people along the highway.  I shared with different walks of life.  I compared philosophies.

Today, the one thing I find sad is that our world has changed in such a manner that one cannot even hitchhike anymore without being assaulted by another stranger.  I recently had to drive from California to Michigan.  In all that distance, I came across only two hitchhikers, both young, and no backpacks.  So with caution, I had to leave them on the side of the road because that told me they did not have a place to "be".  Hitchhiking used to be fun and "the thing to do".  It's not anymore.  If one decides to do it, they cannot do it alone.  Always travel with partners now.   I found hitchhiking to be therapeutic for me and it changed the way I approach the world.  One needs to find that approach and don't be afraid to do it alone.  There is nothing wrong with being alone.  Just don't ever feel lonely.

Finding Solace

As described in my book, The Train Runs No More , once I fell in the dirt in and after high school, it followed me every where.  But once I left San Antonio, Texas, it began to shake off.  Still, every once in a while, a pile would show up; and it did again in St. Louis, but only for the moment.  Then I began to find a new interest since the wife decided to kidnap my children.  Yes. Kidnap.  As long as children are removed by one parent or the other without the permission of one parent or the other, it is called kidnapping.  I could understand it if I beat the hell out of them on a regular basis, or molested them in some form or fashion, but that couldn't be further from the truth.  These two kids were my pride and joy.  So, she took them with intentions of crushing me like a bug and expecting me to just roll over like a dog in the street with my legs up in the air.  I didn't.  I wasn't going to give her that energy.  I was treating her just as though she were one of the bullies in my school.  I refused to give her that energy of being hurt.  I had the money.  Why not keep myself distracted from the pain and hurt?  So I did.  I turned to some friends right down the walk from me at the apartment that I had first moved to.  We were always doing something together every evening.  If I wasn't there, then I turned to some of the night clubs across the river, in Illinois.  I found solace there and much more.  My book describes in detail what I found.  What I found is really defined as adult content and is advisable for parents that read my book to decide whether they want their harassed teenager to read it and find out how I was able to release bad energy.  I began spending more of my time there because that was my release.   Everyone has their own way to find release.  This was my way.  Some may stoop as low as indulgence into drugs and alcohol.  I would not condone that method too much as that way is too easy and does nothing because you have to come back to the real world.  My release happened in the real world.  It was suggested that I sit and journal.  But I resisted that method thinking not only do I not need to do that, but that won't do any good.  I am not understanding of psychology too well, but had I performed that method at that time, I might even be a better person than I am right now.  Somehow, writing something down like that is like taking the top off of a pressure cooker.  As I say, I don't understand how, but it works now, and it would have worked then.  I didn't do it and I was plagued not only but the childhood dream in my book , but other dreams began to crop up because my wife had kidnapped my children from me and got away with it.  Satisfaction for me.  I began finding satisfaction and it worked for me.  I was determined not to dwell.  However, the sibling brother whom hated me from birth, began to interfere.  And interfere he did.  To this day the hateful person that he is still believes he has done nothing wrong.  Karma will come his way.  Sooner or later, it will come.  It always does.  It may not look like it will come soon enough, but belief and prayer to whatever entity that one believes in, will make it come.  All it requires is a little patience.  In the meantime, if you constantly wish for one's death, you had better build two coffins, because it will eat you up inside if you let it.

The Stress

So, I acquired this new job in St. Louis, Missouri building implements of destruction.  The money being offered was the best so far, not to mention the benefits to go with it.  However, the only way to maintain that job was to join the union.  Union.  I never appreciated unions.  I find them only to be good for those that are fat, lazy, and ignorant.  On the job, if they can't keep up for one reason or another and their supervisor comes over and has a chat with them trying to encourage them to excel at what they do, then the employee deems it as harassment because they want to continue working while they keep their elbows on the bench and their ass firmly planted on a stool.  Or maybe you walk into a fuel cell of an aircraft and find a bunch of the slugs just stretched out on some mats sleeping when they should be working.  And while this is going on you discover the president of the union has not only been laundering money, but he has also been spending the hard earned union dues on hookers.  This is what use I have found of unions in this day and age.  They were good in the 1920's and '30's when people really were being maltreated, but the lot of that has long since been gone and it is only for the weak minded who doesn't want to work, but they damn sure want the money.  But, I have digressed.  This new area that we moved to, the furthest north we had ever lived, was different.  Instead of having definite divisions in the city of races, they were mixed here.  Sometimes jobs were in the predominately black area.  So?  It's a freakin' job.  But, since the then wife had never experienced that kind of element before in her life, the stress of living there, the stress of traveling to those areas for work, the stress of having to start over again, the stress of moving there, the stress of....the stress, the stress, the stress.  And for the rest of the story of what happens you have to read The Train Runs No More.  After getting divorced, and having to pay court costs, attorney's fees, and child support, this now great salary has become, just barely.  So, I dealt with it.  I got in as many visits as possible with my children, but with one of them, I began to discover something was seriously wrong.  I tried discussing civilly with the ex,  but that only went so far until she also discovered on her own that something was seriously wrong.  As a couple, I guess we never paid attention and the situation just sort of snuck up on us.  It was discovered that my son had Attention Deficit Hypertension Disorder, ADHD.  What an ordeal to have.  Some children have it only mildly.  Others have the full force of it.  I got lucky.  My son had the full force of it.  Always busy, hard to get his attention focused, difficult for him to follow direction, obstinate, when focused, it was only on what he wanted and if he couldn't get it, the tantrums would fly.  As a couple, you have to work together.  As a single parent, it's difficult when you have to maintain a full time job and all you have surrounding you are people that "watch" children instead of baby sit them, yet they want to be paid the same.  If the job becomes too difficult, they tell you they don't want to do it anymore because it's not easy.  Good thing there is no union involved in baby sitting.  You have now, two divorced parents where one didn't get what she thought she deserved, both are at odds, and be damned with getting along.  It is always the children that suffer in divorce, especially when one child is afflicted with something.  Because it is so difficult for the mother to constantly correct the child at school while having to work, she took him out of school to home school him.  Home school.  What a farce!  Especially with a child afflicted with ADHD.  Her version of home schooling was to place the books and homework in front of him, expect him to have the work done by the time she returns home, and all is good.  How ridiculous for a child like that.  My son missed three months of school because of that stupid shit.  At his age, approximately nine or ten at the time, that was a lot.  I have to say that my son now has not grown to be the most brilliant kid of all.  He has done some pretty stupid shit because of his obstinateness, and our not being able to get along as divorced parents.  Not to mention that there is the weakness of the all knowing, overbearing, hateful sibling that can't stand me to start with.  Because he does, no matter how ill fated, he would rather aid someone that is against me than to aid the environment of the afflicted child.  So, now we are all on this railroad of stupidity like an out of control locomotive.  All the while, I am still contending with this dream that I have had every single night since being a child, with no way to counter act the dream  All of these stresses I have to deal with and I have to deal with it alone.

Decide Where You are The Most Comfortable

You grow up with people that no longer get the reaction from you that they used to.  Or maybe you view things even more differently now that you are out of high school than they did.  Your thought patterns have become wiser.  All the while, they have not reached that point yet and they no longer get from you the energy they once received.  You've separated yourself from the pack.  You're wounds begin to heal.  Then you meet that special someone and maybe it didn't turn out like it should have.  All they do is cost you money, whether it be through acquiring things, or going to something that someone that has sold them tickets to because it was simply a fund raiser for this cause or that.  You're spending money all the time and you never see your bank account increasing.  You sit down with that someone to discuss what your goal is as a couple, but they don't want to talk about it.  You're deemed selfish because you don't want to spend any money.  Really?  Why not spend some money on something that will do you the most good, like a house instead of an apartment where you are compartmentalized amongst a bunch of other people that you don't find that desirable to be around?  You may have to start with an apartment, but why end up there?  It may take a while to get that down payment, but all it takes is patience, focus, and fortitude.  But let's say that part didn't happen.  The torment begins in "The Train Runs No More".  Let's say that your field of career choice requires you to move if you want to maintain the same living standard that you have been able to acquire.  You have now earned this vast amount of money in a field that you love, but because of American greed, or poor economy due to cut backs and policies made by the political administration in office, you have to go through a company wide layoff.  You have finally gained the understanding from your spouse that with the restraint of always having to buy something, your bank account is now growing and in order to maintain that, you have to move to another region just to maintain what both of you have acquired so far.  But the field that you have chosen is economically driven and although you are earning money that you have never seen before without having to resort to selling drugs, you now are moving periodically, just to maintain.  Your spouse finally says, "Screw this crap.  I can do better on my own!"  And you split.  After a time, you purchase a house. You buy a new car.  You wear better clothing and you do this by yourself.  Your spouse on the other hand, lives in an apartment, and then move to another because they can't make the rent, and then another.  Resorting to what looks like an opportunity to buy a house on a government program designed to help the poor by paying one dollar a month to pay for this house, and they can't even do that by themselves.  They become embittered.  Where there is children involved and they have won primary custody, their attitude is now being impressed upon the children, but because you are unable to be with your children the way you used to be, they have become weak and embittered just like your spouse.  You have no choice in the matter when they are simply used as a tool of extraction for more money than what is deemed by the court only to find that it is not being used the way it was intended.  You say no more.  Then you become isolated from your children.  Your older sibling, which already hates you because you came into his world and messed things up for him, becomes an opportunity for your now ex-spouse.  Together, they plot, they machinate against you while they think that you can't see the forest for the trees.  What time you do get with your children is only spent with you revealing "secrets" to them because they were sent as "spies".  How do you know this?  Because after they return home, a week or so passes, long enough for the ex-spouse to be "briefed", and suddenly the children need this great sum of money.  Being nice, you give it to them the first time only to find out it didn't go where it was supposed to go.  So the next time you tell them no.  Then the embitterment sets in and eventually you have to make a decision as to whether you want to maintain a relationship no matter how unhappy you are forced to be, somewhat like it was with all of those idiots that you grew up with taking advantage of you, and antagonizing you.  You're still being bullied.  It's just taken on a new form and this time, it has been passed on to another generation.  Or you decide to let go, and go on enjoying the happy, enjoyable life that you are in at the moment.  Only you can decide where you are the most comfortable.

Not From My School

Because of the issues of being treated like the gum stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe all of the time, I made it a point not to find any girlfriends from my own school.  I didn't need anyone to tell my potential girlfriend just how uncoordinated I was or how ridiculous I could be, or even the world issues I was concerned about that no one else was.  I could do all that on my own and with grace instead viciousness. So, of the ones that did show any likeness toward me, I ignored.  I was friendly, but I ignored their "advances" if you will.  I found one that I became quite attached to.  Unfortunately, if you want to know the full detail of that relationship, you will have to either read my book, The Train Runs No More, or download the Kindle version.  I can tell you the relationship did not turn out to be a happy one.  Afterwards, I went through several stages in my life.  Some were fun, memorable stages, all done without the so called "friends" from high school.  Why travel down the same road with someone that was not desirable to me or me to them?  Sometimes I turned off the road and took a different avenue which lead me either to a dead end or one with disastrous results.  But, I would find my way back.  I eventually found two other women, one of which I wasn't ready to get married, the other that when I was ready to marry, she finally came out and told me that while her husband was out having a good time with other women, she was doing likewise with me.  The one thing I was able to leave her with was a memory.  She became pregnant, but tried to brush it off as not mine.  I know better, because all the parameters added up just nicely.  However, I wasn't able to get her to divorce her husband and marry me.  I had to move on rather than dwell on something I couldn't have.  There was also one that was looking for a husband to be father to her daughter.  She wasn't looking for a husband she could love.  She was looking to be financially taken care of.  End of story.  She saw that maybe I was too weak for that so she moved on.  Just as well because when I ran into her, she was one from my high school that I was not good enough for then and still wasn't.  She had just divorced from a husband that couldn't greet her any other way but beating the hell out of her and then raping her.  I'm glad that relationship never worked out because I eventually realized that it would not have been good for me.  Not from my school.  I finally settled on one.  She had all the things I was looking for, except for her family.  There was just something about her family that was not right.  I just couldn't read the signs.  Refer to the blog spot, Signs.  After all was said and done, I was speaking with a counselor to help me get back on track and he explained that by all accounts, she was a victim of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder that knew how to hide her affliction very well.  She also was one that wanted to be taken care of.  In this day and age, one can't be taken care of because it is simply too expensive to live.  It takes two salaries to make a relationship work unless one wants to continue living in the dump they came from.  I also became my own entertainer.  Everyone else had brothers and sisters to run around with and party with.  Mine hated me to the point of having little association with me.  But then, I look at other people's brothers and sisters.  They were all closer in age group.  They grew up together.  I was nine years apart from my brother.  I infiltrated his little domain.  I was imposing.  Needless to say, the relationship was not close with him.  I even received a letter one day from my dying father telling me to watch out for him because even he did not trust him anymore.  Being that the ol' bro was the stronger of the two, more calculating than the younger, and had a larger "army", I lost the war.  There's one thing I have that my brother will never have.  I have my father's love, I have my father's trust, I have my father's blessing of my current beautiful wife, and his wishes that we do well.  That is something the brother will never be able to have nor will he ever be able to take that away from me.  And THAT is what pisses him off the most!  He has been trying to break me emotionally, ever since, and it hasn't worked yet!

Fall Back

There are those children amongst the group that fall back in the crowd because they have been so maltreated, abused, bullied, whatever word you would like to choose to use, that they are afraid of their on shadow because they may receive the same treatment as they have in the past.  Maybe they received this treatment from a neighbor, a fellow "friend", a sibling, or even one or both parents.  Some teachers are able to recognize this kind of a child and the good ones try to get them involved.  In the game of tag, softball, football, or whatever other game that might be politically correct these days, since the liberals don't want to discriminate against these types of children, the kids waiting to be picked to be on this team or that, are picked by their peers that they hang with, while the rest wait.  The others fall back hoping not to be picked as if the "problem" will go away.  Finally, in the end, one of the "captains" is stuck with the last picked.  The last picked already feels inadequate because he has been picked on by his siblings at home.  Especially, the one that didn't want him in the family to start with.  So, when they do get to play and they make a mistake during the play, that mistake just augmented the feelings of the "captain" as to why they didn't want to pick them in the first place.  Then that is followed up by negative remarks to the "fall back" making them feel worse.  It then becomes a vicious cycle because they didn't want to be there in the first place.  On the other hand, had words of encouragement been used, then the "fall back" would have lifted a bit to try harder to make a better play the next time.  But, human beings are not "wired" this way.  They are"wired" to be mean and hateful until it happens to them and they learn that they don't like it.  Some never learn.  Some carry it into adulthood and die with it thinking they have done no wrong and the problem is everyone else.  There are some of those teachers, I wonder how they ever got into the educational system.  They find these children that fall back, and they befriend them, trying to help them, all the while these children become the prey of a legal child molester, which only exacerbates the problem.  Same thing with priests.  You wonder how they get into the priesthood.  In defense of the good teachers out there that recognize the problem with "fall backs" and encourage them to excel in a whatever they do, I commend them.  For these children, it is best that they march ahead no matter how thick the mud is and don't look back.  I've taken the view, due to my particular situation, that when my fellow "soldier" has fallen, in this great battle that I am in, if I stop to help, I will also die.  Unfortunately, in my march, I have also died.  The Train Runs No More details this .  I have learned to pick my battles and where I can see that the battle will only be a life long war, I had to make a decision as to where I would be happiest.  Therefore, if I have lost or have been lost to some of my family, it is only because I don't give a rat's ass about battling with them anymore.  If it compels them to steal all that I have from me, then I must not need someone whom is compelled to steal from me.  So, I move on to a brave new world that I have chosen to create for myself, where I feel comfortable, where. I am appreciated, where people don't have to take from me, where people don't have to ridicule me because they have nothing better to do.  It is my world now and I am the happier for it.  It is the world where I am treated the way I want to be treated.  And in return, I treat them with the same respect they have shown me.