The Dream

Just as the title of this blog mentions, as well as my book, it is about a dream that has persisted for well over 25 years.  The Train Runs No More. This dream came about because I defied my parents once when I was younger and was almost killed.  Because of the fact that I defied my parents once, because I was almost killed, and because I had other external forces always against me, I was haunted by this dream continuously, every night.  The same goes today for children in school except in these days, children are bolder and meaner.  The more you rebel against it, the more they aspire to getting some sort of reaction from their victim.  I have yet to determine if it is because they aren't getting any attention at home, not enough from their friends, or maybe they see too much on television, or it could even be in the video games they play.  The writers of some television shows have tremendous imaginations, not to say that that is a bad thing, but some children fall into the trap of "trying this at home".  Some children spend so much time with television that the unreal becomes real.  The parents, both of whom are working and maybe even one of them is working two jobs just to keep up with the souring economy, have little time to be with their children.  When they are, they are so tired from working they don't want to be bothered.  Or if something is wrong, they put their head in the sand and hope the situation goes away.  Those that go to church seeking guidance, are distracted with the "wonderful works" that either have been done or need to be done around the world without regard for the need of help right here at home.  If one looks beyond the curtain, they find there is trouble within the church.  The pastors, priests, and preachers all have taken advantage of the power that they possess and have feathered there own nest with the tithing that has been received from its followers and use it for ill gain.  The Lord was supposed to swoop down on Oral Roberts if he didn't receive $8 million dollars by a certain date.  Really?  I was waiting to see the Lord make his swoop.  The way the media is and was, I was waiting for a televised cast of it.  Ol' Oral never got the money, and he never got swooped.  Jimmy Swaggart used his tithing for hookers, and ol' Jimmy Bakker did the same thing.  The Catholic organization took their donations and used it for legal services for the protection of their priests whom raped and molested children.  When it wasn't used for legal services, it was used to pay off the victims hoping they would go away.  Nowadays that same money is used to help illegal immigrants coming into this country, most of whom only want to come here rob, rape, and steal because when they go to jail in this country, they know we will put them up with three hots and a cot.  The Crystal Cathedral is being auctioned off because of the sins of the son.  But, I have digressed too far from the point.  Parents need to pay more attention to what is being said by their children.  Study their body language, look between the lines of the story being told.  As in the last topic, I have been ostracized by those I have attended school with, even by my own family, just because I am different.  However, having moved to another area and developing a whole new world of friends, I have learned to become resourceful and depend on no one for anything.  When you do become needful of your friends, you really find out just who your friends really are.  Even being denied a chance to tell my children goodbye when being kidnapped by their mother, or being denied ability to attend funeral services for my mother by my wonderful brother, has yet to incapacitate me any.  All of these people will answer soon enough for what they have done.  It may not be as soon as I wish for, but it will come.  In the end, the energy I expend, is and will always be positive energy.  I now have been with the same woman for almost twenty years because we respect each other and take care of each other whereas I couldn't ever find that with the first wife.  Yet I am deemed at fault.  The proof is in the pudding as they says.  The Train Runs No More.

Defiance

Up to now, now being out of high school for those at this time, they have put up with a lot of crap.  Not wanting to be classified as a tattletale, having to take what was dished out.  On the other hand, if they have already talked to their school administrators and nothing  seemed to work, then just as those who protested against the Vietnam War, if everyone is talkin', but there ain't nobody listenin', then it's time to take it to the next level.  Create a disturbance that no one can avoid.  In other words, and this is strictly my opinion and you need to decide for yourself just how much repercussion you are willing to take, the next time your "offender" feels necessary to oppress you in some manner, then make an approach in a non-threatening manner, and attack with such fierceness that everyone will notice and witness.  But, I am not saying to use a deadly weapon.  I am saying to use your fists if I have to spell it out for you.  Then when the corporal punishment begins, all you have to do is just reference the times you tried to make the administrators aware.  Two things will happen.  The mistreatment will stop or you will be expelled from school.  They can deny you admission to their school, but they cannot deny you and education.  But, you have to be ready for that crap.  After all of this, you have been ostracized by everyone in your graduating class.  So?  Ostracized.  You should be proud that not only was your graduating class able to learn a word greater than two syllables to describe their actions toward you, they were able to perform it as well.  It shows they did learn something.  But, they are like elephants.  Whatever you did or didn't do, acted in a certain way, or carried yourself, or something you said, they will NEVER forget, and they will NEVER let you forget.  The one thing in my favor;  even without a college degree from a major university, I still don't have to resort to buying my clothes from shit holes like Walmart, Mervyns, K-mart, Kohls, or even mid-level stores like Dillard's.  No wonder Dillard's went out of business.  I am able to associate with millionaires, low wage earners, engineers, blue collar workers, or whomever I feel I need to be around at the time.  I don't have to have a clique, I have never belonged to a clique, I don't need a clique now, and see no need for a clique.  I have been able to experience all levels, all races of people, without discrimination.  If my brother and my ex-wife find it necessary to ostracize me from the rest of my family, as well as my classmates doing likewise, then those people have a very narrow view on life and can't even see the forest for the trees.  Some people get eaten up by all that Christian crap.  Some can't handle their drugs and alcohol.  Some can't just leave people alone.  They just have to keep fucking with you until they get a reaction.  Then when you have responded in the manner that they were looking for, they never speak to you again.  The only way I have not responded is by taking my own life.  They have all wanted me to go away and die, or in the case of my ex-wife, she wanted me to commit suicide.  Because I stood in defiance, they are all so pissed off that that I am still here that they can't even see straight.  But, I have not missed them anymore than they have missed me.  However, my classmates did put one poor soul that they used to mistreat in school up to contacting me just to find out if I am still alive after all these years.  I explain that encounter in The Train Runs No More.  What's so astonishing is they put all their energy into having someone one contact me about a class reunion and to see if I am still alive, just so they can show that they still don't want me there.  Many of them have passed away even before me.  Many have let themselves go and have swollen up to be so fat that they have several rolls on their body.  WHETHER YA LIKE IT OR NOT!  I'M STILL HERE!  And I ain't goin' nowhere yet.  And the best part about it is that I am happy.  I am satisfied, and the woman that I am with now is not only my wife, but my best friend, my confidant, my lover, my everything.  She is that thing that some of my former classmates are still searching for, married or not.

Satisfaction

So, here I am.  I wasn't able to go to college because I didn't want to make the sacrifices that others make if they really want to go, like living in such a small ass place that you can't even fart in the place and walk away so that you don't have to smell it.  Or, picking up food in places when you should be paying for it.  Whatever it takes to go to college and you aren't able to get any school loans because of some governmental quota system.  I was denied entrance to a major university in Houston because of such a quota system  so was a gentleman by the name of Allan Bakke out in California.  He was denied entrance to University of California at Davis.  The only difference was, he was able to take his case to court.  He won his case.  But, he won after eight years.  Just long enough so that he was too old to go and acquire his medical degree.  I couldn't even take my case to court.  Disappointed?  If I dwell on it, I let it control me.  If I let it control me, then it eats me up inside and I am no longer that person that I used to be.  So, I held my chin up and moved on.  Just like the shitheads in my high school.  If I dwell on the way they treated me, then I become angry and lose myself.  So, I moved on.  If I allow them to bother me or effect me in anyway, they have won.  Those hypocrites in school that tried to "save" me and get me to follow the Lord.  I could see that they weren't practicing what they preached and I refused to follow such hypocrisies.  They gave up on me and moved on.  The negative path that some of them followed, because I exacerbated the path that they followed, they became jealous and no longer wanted to associate with me or even know me.  Fuck them too.  I moved on.  I haven't missed a thing.  My ex-wife.  After she discovered that I was not about to commit suicide at her request just so that she could collect on my life insurance policy, and by the way, to demonstrate how stupid and ignorant she is, insurance companies don't pay if it is suicide, then she decided just to kidnap my kids and be done with me.  After calling the police, they tell me a domestic quarrel is not considered kidnapping.  I suppose if I beat the crap out of her everyday or molested the children in someway, she would have every right to kidnap my kids and I would have been more understanding.  This couldn't be further from the truth.  Even with the great salary I was able to acquire even without a college degree, we didn't purchase the two story home on the hill with a picket fence around the yard like she had expected by now. She was able to steal all the money out of the bank only to be used on jewelry for herself, new clothing for herself, while she dressed the children in used and hand made clothes.  The rest of the story is detailed in my book.  In the meantime, I had gotten wind of a class reunion with my high school.  I called to get the details, but had discovered that nothing had changed.  When the person on the other end of the phone realized who I was, they hung up.  In other words, even after all this time has passed (ten years), we still don't want you here.  I never gave it a second thought.  Why would anyone want to go back to visit with people that treated you like crap in the first place.  Why reopen those wounds?  Does one enjoy self-persecution?  Since it was just me now, why not enjoy myself?  I began taking vacation time and hitchhiking around the country.  I wouldn't so much as suggest it now because the world has become even more mean than it was when I was younger.  Unless one is physically able to handle themselves and willing to deal with the aftermath that comes from protecting one's self, it's not advisable to hitchhike anymore.  I enjoyed myself.  I had my encounters on the road.  I took care of those encounters and never looked back.  I have kept my chin up ever since and those that don't want to associate with me, their loss and my gain.  My nose is clean now and I'm satisfied.

Signs

Signs. Signs.  Everywhere there's signs.  Blocking up the scenery breaking up my mind... Just as the song by the Five Man Electrical Band says.  There are signs with everything you do.  There are signs with everywhere you go.  All you have to do is read the signs.  When you pull up to a busy intersection in a car that you just started to learn to drive in and you don't know what to do because there is not a traffic light there, but there is a pole with a big red insignia on it, all you have to do is read it.  You shouldn't ignore it just because there is very little traffic at the moment.  Read the damned sign!  But I ignored the sign.  I ignored several signs.  The girl I finally found in my long, arduous search was dolin' out that ass as though she couldn't give it away fast enough.  Defining my relationship with her in The Train Runs No More, she was the only one of her siblings that wasn't married yet.  I think she felt left out.  Anyway, with her giving me as much as I wanted to get, just about anytime I wanted to get it, she was able to apply the blinders so that I couldn't read all the signs available to me.  After having knocked her up, and by my own free will, I still wanted her because, she looked like Linda Carter of Wonder Woman at the time, I asked her to marry me.  Having done that, I was then not only invited into her family, but also asked of my opinion of a disagreement between her and her younger sister.  Like, I am supposed to settle whatever argument they were having.  Trying to be nice, I held back my opinion and just told her father that whatever opinion he had, that was the one I would go with.  Excuse my language, but, FUCK THAT SHIT!  That was the first sign and with the blinders on I couldn't read the sign.  I shouldn't have been nice.  I should have been myself.  Then when we showed up to the church for the rehearsal and there was a church sermon going on instead, that was another sign.  Then, I had my brother as one of the ushers.  I have no idea why.  Inside, my mind was asking why I would have someone who absolutely hated me so much that he couldn't talk to me without criticizing me all the time, in the wedding.  On the outside, by this time I was so selective of my friends, after separating myself from the dirt I used to hang with, that I felt I needed him for appearances.  I didn't pay attention to that either.  And, finally, as we began to file out at the wedding ceremony to wait and greet my soon to be wife, my brother tells me I still have a chance to turn around and leave.  There were four signs.  Of all the things my brother had to say to me, I should have paid attention to that one.  How many does one need before one realizes that something isn't right here?   And premonitions.  Those of you that have them, you have them for a reason.  Pay attention to them.  You might learn something.

Beyond the surface

So, you find somebody; like I did.  They were fun to be with.  They were happy to go out with you.  They were enjoying spending your money with you, not to mention the sex that was exchanged.  As long as they kept the sex coming, you kept the money coming, no pun intended.  But what was really behind all of that?  Did they really want to be with you?  Or were you just an escape bridge to get them out of the home they were in or the situation they were in.  My encounter is described in The Train Runs No More.  In my case, one attractive blonde lady was living with her divorced, alcoholic mother in a place that I wouldn't even house my dog in.  But the sex was great.  When she saw that I wasn't ready to get married or even ask her to marry me, she decided to call it quits.  She was married within a month after leaving me.  She wanted out of the house that she was in.  I was dating a beautiful Mexican lady for a while.  She had two beautiful, young daughters that I used to help her carry in from the car when they fell asleep on the way home from the baby sitter's house, as though I were their father.  I had been under the impression that she was divorced.  After several months of constant sex with her and I decided to ask for her hand.  She tells me her husband would not be happy with that.  Husband!  Bitch! Aren't you divorced!  Her answer was no and that her husband would not allow her to get divorced.  I was her escape while her husband was out running around with some other whore.  And then there was one that didn't care if she loved me or not.  She just needed a man with a good income to help raise her daughter.  When she could see that I was not quite set with a good job or income, off she went to find one that was.  She also married within a few months.  So, when your looking for someone, look beyond the surface. Find out why they are with you.  What is behind all of their efforts of being with you?  Just what the hell is their intention?  I wound up getting married to a person whom I thought had loved me.  It turned out that after six and a half years of marriage, she didn't get out of married life what her parents had in the thirty years of marriage that they had gotten.  She only married me because she was knocked up.  Not because she was in love with me.  All of her siblings were married and she felt left out. Besides, had she been in love with me, she wouldn't have tried to attack me once or ask me to commit suicide.  Who would do that to their spouse if they loved them?  Defined in The Train Runs No More, before you take on a partner, you had better know what you're getting into.  To this day, because my ex-wife didn't get what she wanted, even in divorce, she vowed that I would never see my children again and she has held true to her word.  She even caters to the hatred that my brother holds for me because he caters to her very wishes.  Have I missed my children?  On the one hand yes.  But, on the other, after being raised by someone with all that resentment and influence upon them, I have not missed a thing.  That only tells me just how simple minded my children are, as well as my brother, even though he thinks he is the cock of the walk.  Be careful of the shit that you step in.  You just might track it all over the place.

Sibling Interaction

While working at the insurance company I had three days off each weekend.  To take up my time, I then would tend bar at a discotheque.  I managed to pick up women there and out to breakfast we would go after the bar closed.  From there, on to their apartment.  I was still learning how to approach women.  I knew how to get them in bed, I just didn't know how to keep one as a girl friend.  If I wasn't tending bar, then I would go to Houston for the weekend and party there.  For some peculiar reason, my brother had me stay with him.  I don't know why.  He always would ridicule me.  He never missed a beat.  But then, him living away from home now, maybe I was missing the ridicule.  Maybe my personality was missing the abuse and the only satisfaction I could find was to stay with him or find it in the beds of available women.  In any case, it seemed to be more pleasant for a while.  He managed to run into some nice women.  Some were rich and I would wonder why they chose him.  Some were with child and I would wonder why they chose him.  All were attractive.  Then he ran into one that was peculiar.  She wasn't very attractive.  She had short hair like a dyke and was different from all of the others.  I never will forget.  One Saturday morning, my brother and I were up talking with each other.  She had called to see if she could come over.  He told her I was there, but it didn't matter.  She could come anyway.  I had grown used to his jabs and I was now jabbing back.  When "dykelike" finally arrived, we were introduced and we sat and talked.  My brother had said something to me that I thought was a jab, so I answered back in likewise fashion.  After my answer I looked at her face.  She was glaring at me with such disapproval of my answer to him that I could see hate in her face.  From that point on, it was down hill from there.  Not only was my brother putting my parents down for the clothing they would wear, but also the furniture in their house, the cars they would drive, even the things my father would do to keep busy.  For a full description read The Train Runs No More.  Even she would join in and it wasn't her place to do so.  She always thought she was better than my parents or even me.  I don't know how.  She was doing harder drugs than I was at the time.  Two things my mother used to say:  "Water seeks its own level and when you play with trash it will fall in your eye every time".  How right she was.  Eventually, I found other interests and stopped going to Houston, not to mention I had quit the insurance business and found other employment.  I was still trying to find myself.  I did learn that with the ridicule that my brother had to offer, apparently he didn't like it when I began fighting back.  His disposition began to evolve. And my evolution was changing as well.  I did manage to learn to listen to people and if there was something about them that I didn't appreciate, that would be the last time I would be around them.  I have developed an uncanny ability to detect within thirty minutes of speaking with someone whether someone is worth their salt or not.

After High School

After getting out of high school, by that time I was not under constant ridicule by my older brother.  He had done like everyone else.  To move up in the world you leave San Antonio.  Move up in the world.  Is that what you call it when you leave a low wage paying city and move to a higher wage paying city?  He was still punching a clock.  Anyway, at that time, if one wanted to make more money, they would leave for Houston.  It's like not living at home, but your still within driving distance.  So, I was less apt to be ridiculed on a daily basis now.  Yet, I was still getting my feet wet on how best to approach women.  After a funky job here and there, I finally landed a job at the world's large insurance company in San Antonio.  It paid more than any other job I had found there.  It was also a place to have a real smorgasbord as described in The Train Runs No More.  At the time, it was probably seventy-six percent women and twenty-four percent men.  I had a hard time working there because there were so many good looking women there.  Most would wear clothes that they couldn't afford on the salary that they made.  Many were there in search of a husband.  Others were there to have more than their share.  Every once in a while, I would go down to the parking lot on my break time or lunch time.  I would see a car with a couple inside hammering it out.  Either the husband wasn't getting enough at home and find some extra there, or the wife wasn't too happy at home and she was giving some away at work.  Doesn't matter the situation, the smorgasbord was there, and a guy could take a real advantage of it if he wanted to.  The parking lot was nice and dark in places like a cavern, completely full, and rarely checked by the over paid security force there.  Plus it was convenient.  You could meet a woman there, take her to lunch or dinner there, and get some ass all while being at work.  The problem with that was, if anything happened, like someone getting pregnant, someone cheating on their spouse, or even more embarrassing than that, then that piece of news spread like wildfire, not just in the department, but it would go from one end of the building to the other.  It may as well have been printed in a news bulletin.  I also became a victim of that.  I ran into a beautiful Mexican girl there.  She and I began hammering right from the start.  You can draw your on conclusions as to what happened after.  I didn't know how to handle all the gossip and speculation, the ridicule and embarrassment, so I quit.  And I didn't get to continue with the girl either.  Probably better off.  As attractive as she was, she was still from the west side of San Antonio, where white people aren't supposed to get lost unless they are looking for trouble.  It's ridiculously poor there, and strictly Mexican.  No whites allowed.  Digressing back, if one were looking for a spouse, or looking for some strange, that insurance company would be the one to work at.  It was a city all to itself, with entertainment, every once in a while one could buy their average clothing there, have their meals there, child care, it was all there.  I wasn't able to handle the ridicule though.  So, I left.