Decryption.

So my Bit Locker backup harddrive went missing between 1 and 3 months ago; an event that has caused many wasted hours in vain, searching for something that I couldn’t understand was actually physically gone from my possession. This drive has EVERYTHING of any importance to me and, has the datum equivalent of my existence on it. This drive has been my perpetual data dump since I left the tax firm in 2013. After so many days of panic and stress over the unknown location of this piece of equipment went by without even the slightest insight of where in the Hell it could have gone, I was exhausted by the search and had given up hope for the time being, figuring that like so many things in my life go, it would eventually turn up most unexpectedly.

Yesterday, after days and days of viscous cycling of the tensions between myself and the absolute WORM who I’ve been stupidly calling my “fiancé” and/or boyfriend for quite some time (over a fucking joke of a year and a half), I broke it off for good by wishing him well in future days and explaining that he’s been perpetually out of line as well as out of touch with reality in regard to his constant accusations and explosive and toxic mood swings etc.

His response was to say,

“For the record, Bit Locker encryption is simple to crack.”

My end of the line went deeply silent and then a dial tone on his end.

My mind was reeling from his subtle admission. I know he’s not lying about having my Bit Locker because I never mentioned it’s disappearance to him in the time since he left my residence after staying with me for Thanksgiving. Everything fell mentally into place though, and I am now swallowing the unexpected reality of the person I’ve retarded placed my EVERYTHING in has, in actuality, been using and playing me for a very long time.

When I eventually said something along the lines of:

“So you’re not only a liar but you’re also a thief?”

Because this fucking weasel has always talked long shit about how he’ll “have nothing to do with cheaters, liars and/or thieves”, the slight wasn’t felt slightly but quite substantially by me. So now it all makes sense, how he went home after Thanksgiving with a stolen piece of my property and weaseled his way into my privacy like a WORM.
I don’t know what all is on that harddrive, there’s so much stuff on there from many people’s computers over the years; including my Mom and my Daughter’s. This time very personal time capsule of information and historical data also includes all of my photos of ex boyfriends (meaningful or otherwise), childhood, family (dead, missing or alive), as well as any other document attached to my existence over the past decade or more. It was a thing that never saw the light of day and was permanently at my residence.
My piece of shit former fiancé rifled through my shit and stole it from my house while visiting me for Thanksgiving! The implication behind his performing such an action while we were supposedly on the happiest of terms has staggered my ability to be sensible. I am feeling so incredibly violated by someone (some… thing) who I’ve worked hard to let into my hyper-vigilant and sheltered stronghold.

These things jade me beyond words.

My heart has hardened once again over night, and the world is a much blacker and ugly fucking place today, like it always used to be…like it’s apparently going to be forever.

I am very full of regret and self-loathing at present; I hate myself for making such a stupid and lasting mistake in the character of someone who got closest to me of all. I hate myself for being myself. I’m likely not going to write for a while here. This website is like a haunting ghost in its own right.

Newly twisted and caught up.

Not giving a fuck.

…just another in a long line of men who misrepresented themselves and turned out to be a sham.

Walk, Talk and Breathe.

Friends that refuse to respect of me,
the smallest of ways that I ask to be,
excused from their own stupidity,
yet – they choose to abuse,
and they find these things funny…
A family turned to the judge and jury,
no hand extended in my times of need,
the after-burn of that first, initial sting,
the day I noticed they were on an opposing team…
Others play the friendly role all too regularly,
to the point it’s obvious there’s no true identity,
behind any of the faces in the places close to me,
just life-sized puppets that walk, talk and breathe…

Some days, I wake up with a feeling of the phantom flowing of arteries near my neck, of blood being aspirated in my throat….

and, the very first thing that my tired mind touches down upon is the static-electric sensations attached to Hatred and Vengeance. I bask in the daydreams of horribly brutal images pertaining to those who buried me in a tomb of deceit and corruption; and happily allow myself the horrid pastime of entertaining the idea of revenge, someday…somehow.

I imagine walking into the courthouse with a pressure release belt made out of C4 and just Ka-Booming the place to ashes; I dream of physically throttling the piece of shit social worker Indira Anupindi until her eyeballs come out of her evil head; I envision her supervisor being mown down by a cowboy truck with 40” tires and then being dragged around by its tow hitch…I entertain the notion of watching the useless judge and her courthouse minions violently drown in arctic waters beneath a layer of solid ice sheet – pounding desperately against it with desperation and regret as the final expressions they will offer the world.

Now that everything is over, and the nightmare of being held hostage by the local courts through my delinquent child, I find myself being certain that wherever any of the above mentioned pieces of shit are now – they most definitely don’t give a second thought to the shambles they have left me with, in place of what should have been the rest of my life…just as certainly, comes the awareness of my own seething and rankling injuries; the ones inflicted by this specific arm of the corrupt government…

As I am prone to feel oppressed and uncertain down to a genetic level, these long simmering realities have come to weigh on me like an anchor over time; and my response has always been held in check because of the trickle my daughter might feel from my becoming a national news sensation behind whatever that response might be. I no longer give a fuck either way – not a care left at all in that context. I don’t think down the road when it comes to this issue of mine… not about who will be hurt by my response, not about how I might be personally hurt by my own response…not about anything else beyond Revenge.

And, on these days, it’s best if I just sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up.

Penny-pinching.

Ah, the insatiable façade…
of government organization,
charged with the ongoing care,
of a child’s “protection”,
and look at the job they’ve done!
Producing mass demoralization,
burning without consideration,
crushing and burying memories,
fueling the hatred inside of me,
thriving within the destruction,
so many of my moments: stolen,
spiritually drowned and chopfallen,
hiding like cowards behind,
the safe-guarded legal confines,
professional rape of the mind,
is defined in some subsection,
of a somehow “acceptable”,
and despicably procedural,
forced systematic separation,
court-enforced parental,
very public lynching,
then perpetual alienation,
stealing and penny-pinching,
and completely legal,
purely conjectural,
the picture in full,
strikes the eye as odd,
an agency playing God,
motivated by sheer evil,
operated hypocritically,
signed in disappearing ink,
no control,
no cause for hope,
down with this agency!
Else soon enough,
they’ll own all of us,
in with the afflicted,
contradicted,
and doomed, too,
no light gets through,
tried and convicted,
by a government’s rule,
backed by ignorant fools,
cracked heads affected,
from such a shallow gene pool.

Around.

You don’t know what my tears taste like,

because your lips do not catch their’ fall,

and the tendency to judge my actions…

well, you’re nobody to judge me at all.

You don’t have a clue what I’ve come through,

I don’t care where you think that you’ve been,

as soon as you’ve perfected your own shit…

maybe, come back and take a crack at me again.

I don’t need a single person’s approval,

and most certainly wasn’t looking for yours,

I know who I am, against your presumptions…

I stand for the steps you’ve never taken before.

People like you only shrink when compared to,

somebody with half of a beating heart,

I’m not sure why it shines so sure from your eyes…

a slice of humanity would break you apart.

Please keep your greed from my scenery,

if you own the slightest hint of a clue,

of how much I despise the habit of lies…

take heed, if you know what’s good for you.

Because, one day you will taste my teardrops,

you will feel the fathoms of my own grief,

despite all of your efforts at destruction and doom…

someday your reflection will look just like me.

HATE.

“You get justice in the next world; in this one you have the law.”
~ William Gaddis

I’m not angry at her; it’s hardly her fault at all – what she has become. I am angry at myself, at her monster of a sperm donor, and at the failed juvenile courts system of the United States of America. I am angry at the useless social workers who weren’t paying any attention to what I told them when I reached out for help with her so long ago; I am angry at the many handfuls of children’s services that miserably disappointed her needs back then; I am angry at the laughable façade called the JUSTICE that remains only through legend and lore.
I am angry at the judge who has sat back for over six years now and watched with a wretched smile as my only child has been spiritually battered to death under her “care”; I am angry at the court-appointed legal representative that gets paid to protect my daughter’s rights as a clueless child in the midst of a heinously constructed legal process; I am angry that my community doesn’t give a shit about my daughter’s demise; I am angry at the various grown men (at least one of them, an employee of above mentioned failed court system) who saw it fitting to have sex with my underage child, beginning when she was only eleven years old.
I am angry at the case worker who claims to love my daughter and truly care for her…she is undoubtedly the BIGGEST piece of shit breathing air at present – the one who could and should have stopped many things many times, but didn’t. I HATE HER. And, I hate nobody else in the Universe.

Without Consideration.

Ah, the insatiable façade…
of a government organization,
charged with the ongoing care,
of a child’s overall “protection”,
and look at the job they’ve done!
Producing mass demoralization,
burning without consideration,
crushing and burying memories,
fueling the hatred inside of me,
thriving within the destruction,
so many of my moments: stolen,
spiritually drowned and chopfallen,
hiding like cowards behind,
the safe-guarded legal confines,
professional rape of the mind,
is defined in some subsection,
of a somehow “acceptable”,
and despicably procedural,
part of systematic separation,
court-enforced parental,
public lynching,
then perpetual alienation,
penny-pinching,
and completely legal,
purely conjectural,
the picture in full,
strikes the eye as odd,
an agency playing God,
motivated by sheer evil,
operated hypocritically,
signed in disappearing ink,
no control,
no cause for hope,
down with this agency!
Else soon enough,
they’ll own all of us,
in with the afflicted,
contradicted,
and doomed, too,
no light gets through,
tried and convicted,
by a government’s rule,
backed by ignorant fools,
cracked heads affected,
from such a shallow gene pool.

The “Unsecret” Dialogue Chronicles – Part 3

A NOTE ON THE VOICES OF “S” AND “J”:
• “S” SOUNDS LIKE AN ADORABLE SOUTH AFRICAN (WITH TOURRET’S)
• “J” SOUNDS LIKE A HIGH-STRUNG VALLEY GIRL (WITH TOURRET’S)

Liquid noisily splashing against plastic sheeting in background.
J: So, uhhhh….were ya gonna tell me about the toaster or…..?
S: J…would you please stop stepping there! You’re making a mess – LOOK!!!
J: Sorry, oh oops…my foot was stuck to some Jello-y stuff that’s stuck down…oh shit…oops…
S: J! Stop fucking around and help me with the mirror real quick – hurry!… or else the dude you didn’t see yet becomes a problem for us!
J: Okay, okay…
slips and slides her way over to the counter and climbs up next to S, who is tearing off a sheet to cover the vanity mirror with
J: Bear! The toaster!
S: Right right…the toaster…

the two struggle briefly to reach all the way to the ceiling, as they are only ten feet tall – combined.

J: This is about your Gods damned burgle, isn’t it?
S: Huh? Oh….that….huh?
J: Don’t play dumb with me!
S: You do realize your own circumstantial lack of leverage here, don’t you?
J: THE TOASTER!!!
S: Huh?….

*The final sheet of plastic has been lain; and the two tiny creatures sit down on the vanity counter-top with surprisingly heavy ‘thuds’, one grinning widely and the other exhaling a sigh of frustration *

S: That toaster was well worth the money I spent on it, though – for the record…

J is totally distracted by a shimmer in a puddle of dark blood

J: Why?…how much did you pay for it?

CLICK HERE for Part 4!

Comes Around.

You don’t know what my tears taste like;

Because your lips do not catch their’ fall,

And your tendency to judge my actions –

Well, you’re no one to judge me at all.

You don’t know what I’ve been through;

I don’t care where you think you’ve been,

As soon as you’ve perfected your own shit –

Maybe, come back and talk to me then.

I don’t need anyone’s bullshit approval;

And I most certainly wasn’t looking for yours,

I know who I am, against your presumptions –

I represent steps that you’ve never taken before.

People like you; seem to shrink when compared to:

Anyone with even half of a beating heart,

I’m not sure why it shines so sure from your eyes –

A slice of true humanity would break you apart.

Please keep that ugly face from my scenery;

If you have the slightest hint of a clue,

Regarding how much I despise – the falseness and lies –

Take heed now, if you know what’s good for you.

Because one day, you will taste my teardrops;

You will feel the depths of this grief,

Despite all of your efforts at destruction and doom –

Silly you, someday your reflection will be me.