posted on Jun, 22 2020 @ 10:08 PM
After My Demise
This is a letter that I have been drafting for the day I have reached a specific point on my journey to the next step on my evolutionary path or
pathway on my journey, it is going to be sent to various outlets with the hope that there will be some attention given to it, I may even make a video
to go with it...In any case, some of what I have to say is designed to elicit shock and awe, but I am sorry to say it will not...it might open some
eyes to the other side of life...the side we are always trying to forget...fat chance for me to forget any of it, good or bad...it is all a part of
me, my His-Story.
Many things we experience are hard to quantify, the moment of inception and the moment of reflection occur at different points on the path. Meanings
change, perceptions change, what is important changes, self pity can become a driving force, anger can lead to self destructive behavior, for and
against, the tide can roll in and it can roll out, supposedly at the behest of the Moon.
Much of our behavior in this or any incarnation will have a random effect/affect on us or others. Having a plan and executing a plan, intentions,
misunderstandings, opinions of others, without any knowledge or with explicit information, unseen actions, life is all so random and unpredictable and
this applies to all and every life (energy).
Being told by a doctor that you have a specific amount of time left to exist in this human form has a weird calming presence to know, some realization
that there is an expiration date, one that we always want to challenge with denial, not me, but it is me and I have been fighting that diagnoses ever
since, I'll show you...And so it goes, the doctor had a theory about my life expectancy and I have beat it and then some, but there does come a point
where the hour glass of sand empties into that black hole and transforms our energy into something else, somewhere else.
After my demise, passing on or the end to this journey, or before the beginning of the next transformation, it would be awesome if I could let those
know that I love or despise, that I have in fact traversed this world and have a few last remaining words and feelings to share, with those dear to my
heart and dreams.
You see, while we are still here, it is difficult to share, the ability for closure has since passed, after leaving to go there, where, anywhere but
here, so if we still care and are unaware, then that too shall be without fear or despair.
To those I hate, such a strong word, but appropriate for a select few, you see hate is a necessary protective guide, it keeps me from allowing myself
to care about those that have wronged me so deeply:
Forgiveness does not come easy for these poor souls, they have burned the bridge that once connected us. I was blind to most of it for many years, but
the hatred I have is for the anger I have for the way I was and have been treated by them, at various times in my life along the path I have been
traveling, they have done much harm to me, as a child, as a young adult, as a grown man into my current state of being.
My Family has abandoned me at my greatest time of need. They offer no hope or joy, or even respite from the pain I endure. They have misjudged me,
been blind to my struggle and have had no compassion or the slightest empathy.
My Abuser took advantage of me. He decided my life was of no consequence to me. That he could do whatever he pleased without retribution from those
that see, in plain sight, what he was doing to me. Under the guise of a teacher and wannabe cop, religious scholar and gentleman, big brother and
mentor, he systematically took away my childhood and replaced it with a completely different version, -2.0, if you will.
At least my Abuser has made an effort to rectify past behavior, unforgivable acts nonetheless, and has reached the point of reconciliation with me to
some degree, a source of much needed assistance. Welcomed, especially since my family and religion have abandoned me.
What is religion but a belief system that is shoved down our throats from the day we were born into this human vessel. Still, it is the foundation for
a strong bond with family and community, of which mine dissipated very quickly around the ripe old age of 11. And my religion was used as a weapon. A
misguided weapon. It was not my religions fault though was it? It was not the fault of those unaware, it was the fault of those that turned a very
blind eye on obvious questionable behavior. Individual choices made by others that completely affected the way my religion let me down.
God is supposed to protect children aren't they? Where was my God when I was being taken advantage of by someone that was supposed to be religious, a
beacon of the community I lived in, immersed in activities involving youth, the culture was changing and certain behavior was being left unchallenged,
the advisory capacity of many adults over youth activities allowed for more youth to do more questionable things.
My Abuser used to let me drive everywhere we went, it was a field trip driving lesson, he was a supervisor for other groups of young Jewish boys, of
which I am sure included other boy toy conquests, because that is what I became, a paid little boy toy. My first ATM transaction was using his Debit
Card at the bank, it was a thrill to go up to the machine, punch a secret pin code in it and out came 200 dollars. Payment for services rendered that
It always started out the same way, especially early in our relationship, before he moved to be closer to me, he had endeared himself to my parents by
showing me attention and acting like he gave a # about my Jewish studies, he was a Cantor (Sang The Service) for the congregation and that is how he
hooked me. When he did move, he made it a point to insert himself into my Bar Mitzvah training and used this as an excuse to have me spend the weekend
at his apartment. My parents were thrilled and I got spoiled and abused at the same time.
I was allowed to go shopping first at the local Kroger Store. I could pick out anything I wanted, so down each aisle, Dorito's, Hot Dogs, Pepperidge
Farm Cake, Beer even, Pizza, whatever I wanted, then to his house where we would watch TV and eat and look at dirty magazines from the infamous "Grey
Box". My first book about sex was introduced to me, The Joy of Sex. It explained all kinds of positions and techniques for pleasure, both sexes, and
it had illustrations.
I smoked my first doobie at his apartment, drank my first liquor, smoked cigarettes, and masturbated to dirty magazines with his blessing and helpful
consideration to detail. There was not a weekend for many months where I did not spend time with him in some capacity, again, much of it was under the
guise of religious instruction.
There is much more to include and until the day I do kick the bucket I will keep adding to it...updates to this thread will come when they do, until
they don't...After My Demise.