The Warning: Or The Dream That Became A Nightmare.

It has been quite a while since I last wrote anything on this Blog of mine. Somehow it became little more than a place to post my latest artwork. There was a time when my writing was far more prolific than my art.

Today is the day I close this series that is ‘The American Diaries’. I have no desire to return to that country. My experiences there became a nightmare that is with me every day of my existence. The country itself is beautiful but really, that is all that was.

A few years ago I received a warning from an individual that I brushed off immediately as little more than ‘sour grapes’. The individuals around me seemed far too awesome to warrant the warning about them that I received. There was not one thing that I could see that matched the words that warning contained. I will begin right now by saying, “I am sincerely sorry for my scorn and disbelief. You were right and you were trying to do your best at the time. I understand that now. Hindsight remains 20/20. I don’t know if you are reading this, but I hope you get to see my sincere apology here”.

I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought I had finally found a family. I thought that I had discovered the two most beautiful and selfless individuals on the planet, somehow. My gratitude for a gift that, apparently, came with no strings attached, turned out to be far from what I thought it was. It was a gift, and one I made sure I stressed that I could never repay, because I could not. Apparently, that was just fine and was not expected. Perhaps I was naive? Perhaps I was gullible? Perhaps I really did think that there was real goodness in this world? I don’t know. I try to remember every day WHY I thought it was exactly what it was. This usually leaves me feeling like a complete fool. But, I digress.

While I could not repay the gift and was apparently not expected to, I felt like I owed these individuals something of myself at least. It was the least I could do and I tried hard. I will not go into a great deal of detail because, even though I am in this situation now, integrity will not allow me to provide copious amounts of detail to strangers reading this on the internet.

Suffice to say, the least I could do was try to help what turned out to be  something so dysfunctional that it made me shiver in horror. I knew I had to get my hands exceptionally dirty in order to lance one giant, pus-filled, lethal boil. But I was driven to do it because I felt like I OWED something in turn for what I still felt was a gift beyond anything I had ever had the joy of receiving before. And yes, I knew that I would be loathed for doing what I did. I did it anyway. It is my nature to confront, even when confronting something is going to get me into trouble, or leave me a Pariah of the Highest Order because I know love. And I know hard love best.

The thing that surprised me the most was the lack of comprehension concerning my actions. That surprised me more than anything that followed. The motives I was accused of were so far from my actual ones that they may as well have existed in a different galaxy. I don’t know why it surprised me, but it did. And that was on top of the knowledge that drove the decision to lance that huge boil even though it would win me no popularity contests.

When one feels ‘indebted’ one will sometimes do extreme things; above and beyond what should be done. But when ‘indebtedness’ is felt profoundly, profound actions ensue. Such was the case with me, and I truly believed I was doing the right thing.

I did not do all that I did in order to be thanked profusely, because that was never the point. I did not do all that I did in order to win some kind of perverse Sainthood.  I did not do all that I did in order to feel like a decent person. I did it because I felt it was the right thing to do, I felt indebted and required to do SOMETHING, and the mess I saw was not one that I felt could be left like that. It couldn’t.

So, what followed as a result of my attempt to lance this boil?

Betrayal. Hatred. Complete and total misunderstanding. Abhorrence. Confusion. Pain. Othering. Demonization. And, finally, a systematic daily series of psychic attacks that have no intention of letting up until I am dead. Every day. Every single day.

I was warned that I would be chewed up and spat out when I was no longer of any use. I was warned that I would be turned upon and torn asunder.

I did not heed that warning.

I wish I had because it was the most accurate one I have ever had!

They won’t stop until I am no more. It is a nightmare that infests every second of every day. Beings like that do not seem to comprehend that unconditional love is not always kind, but it IS always wielded with the right intent in mind.

I don’t know how much longer I have before I am no more. THIS post will no doubt double the efforts to see me dead if it is read.

I wish they would stop, because I wish they would truly COMPREHEND the ‘what’s’ and the ‘why’s’. I do not entertain any hope that either will happen, though.

So what do I entertain? Death. Non-existence. Which is where they wish I already WAS and are working steadily towards putting me, and fuck what anyone else around may prefer. Their wishes are irrelevant to this determination to end me.

‘The American Diaries: A Nightmare Beyond Imagining’.

No more.



Filed under The American Diaries

2 responses to “The Warning: Or The Dream That Became A Nightmare.

  1. Steve

    Psychic attacks? Death threats? Emotional and mental anguish? Why have you NOT talked to me about these ppl? You know I have no qualms in retaliations and you definately know I don’t believe in the three fold law. If you can’t control what you call up, don’t call it up in the first place. We need to talk…….

    • S.

      Because, unlike others, I do not call friends in to join together and 1) Mob together to destroy the living FUCK out of an individual on my behalf, and 2) I believe in a little thing called ‘The right to personal privacy’. Also, this has nothing to do with me ‘calling something up’. This is to do with the actions of real, living, ‘human beings’, Steve.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s