long dream

lots of travel , many countries,
beruit or holland

hostange situation
stiar case.

50 note

money machine


In what what a very long convoluted dream, I was somehow in Amsterdam ( I think) and I was across a seemingly deserted street when I saw two glass doors about 400 feet out with masked gun men and mp5 machine guns (odd since they are only used in law enforcement) I then panned to my side of the street and saw Elizabeth crouched down by a stair case, yet she was still in the line of fire. I then saw the police snipers and agents hidden away., It was about to hit the fan.

I reached in to my jacket and drew my side arm and ran as fast as I could to be by her side. She didn't smile, more so the look of disgust I now see this look from her in most of my dreams. (Odd since I never saw this look in reality). I didn't care, even though it broke my heart, I loved this girl, and she was going to do amazing things for our world. I needed to get her out alive even if it meant being sacrificed. Although the situation was not that dire. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Better her here than inside the building with the gunmen.

I can't recall what happen next, however memories of that moment stayed with me throughout the very long dream. I could not possibly recall then entire thing.

I was then at the main family house overseas. It was all very odd, very european. Small modular modifications, back lit closets encased by frosted glass. The sort of place I imagine superman to have(if he actually lived in the fortress of solitude). I then walked in to the massive bathroom, then by one shower , then two, then three. I had to tell someone that it was official, that I could now prove the old bat (my Grandmother) had lost it. (She is constantly expanding on our main family house )

So I saw my Uncle (not really blood relative, more so a dear friend of the family). He said it could not be as did my aunt. Yet, three shower stalls in one bathroom. And there were sinks everywhere. # sinks (though one was a double) in the bathroom, and then a larger low hung one in the bedroom. Although the closet units were quite nice. The shower units I think were the space age sort from the Netherlands. Very efficient and silent. (IE: a person outside can not hear the person showering).

I was then walking along with my driver and he gave me a 50 note and told me I had to do something with it. I couldn't quite understand. I later entered in to meetings and met with officials and religious figures. I was just in country so I guess I had a lot of people to meet. (as is usually the case in reality, a 3 week stay usually comprises of over 100 meet and greets along with various business affairs, barely enough time to sleep)

A bit later, I am at the place my Aunt and Uncle were staying (still part of the main compound, although perhaps not the main house) and as they drove off there was a girl to my right. She wanted to smell my cologne, and so I let her and she whispered something like "oh my your palate" I though she liked the variety of colognes I wore, but then she started to kiss me (neck) and I had to pull away. I think she was of some relation to my Aunt and Uncle(who are not blood relatives), or even a servant and they were just pulling away. One look in their rear view mirror and we would both be dead (not literally).

So I pulled away, and told her no..however I can't recall what she looks like as I never looked at her. A few moments later my voice mail rings on my phone(had it been the normal ring I would have woken myself up to answer my phone). I am dreading this and it's my Uncle. I think it's about the girl but no. He's irate about the 50 note. I was suppose to give it to someone and how it was a grave act of disrespect.

I kept thinking it was almost nothing in American why would I want to keep it? That I honestly did not know what to do with it. That said amount you could easily find in change on the streets of NY at any given time (I know this since once, someone and I , as we were walking around we picked up every bit of change we say, lots of pennies go forgotten. We gave them to the 1st homeless person we saw along with a twenty)

I then realized I had a bit of a cash problem. It seems the same amount of currency I have with me now (In reality) I had in the dream. So only a few hundred usd. I thought I should be fine but I needed to convert my funds. Perhaps a ATM machine, although I was almost positive that the stack of checks on my desk remained as I left them, uncashed.

I then found myself at a very...american strip mall. It was practically deserted. It almost seemed cartoon like and western. in the depths of a store I found a currency conversion machine. I popped my money in thinking it would be instant and, up came a screen asking me to wait 38 minutes. I had places to be , and someone waiting for me. Yet I waited The person , she then became a bit anxious and asked me what was going on (I had come outside for a breather). I let her know.

Although I don't know who she was or what she looked like, I didn't look straight at her. I think it was almost like telekinesis. (something Elizabeth and I almost seemed to have when in person) As though I could feel her disappointment and aggravation.

I can't recall much more, however many such dreams filled my day ( I sort of slept it away..should have been outside with a chain saw clearing up debris. tsk tsk, such a nice day too)

¶ 11/27/2006 01:07:00 PM //

This years events started going downhill before they even began. I believe a few days prior to heading to CT I was out and about and I received a call that there would be a function at the purple house. Said owners of said house, refer to theirs as the "new house" (despite the fact several homes have been bought since) and are generally regarded as dicks. However family is family and I said I would attend one of the three days their event was going on for. It being thanksgiving and all.

Yet at these function, be attending there is somehow the mentality that you can't eat meat, prior, or after said functions which is just such a load of shit. I don;t even know the purpose of said events and it's actually a bit scary how fanatical certain branches of the family are becoming, and how they lack and sort of answers. Be the the person educated or not, the questions are greeted with blank stares.

Yet each faction tries to out do each other, as well as families vs one another. ie: well my function had 1,500 people attend. Well my function had 2,500 people attend. Does god even care? Well guess what fucker, I care , you deprive me of my gobble gobble.

When my grandfather was alive, he would go all out. My mother even recalled one year how he had the turkey prepared three different ways before being finally satisfied. It was really his holiday. Since he left, the turkey is lackluster and everything else pretty much omitted. no real get together in lights of the massive rifts that have since developed. Ungrateful children fighting for scraps of what was once a great legacy, and a widow spinster who let's the name tarnish away. At lest the food bank got a few turkeys and a nice donation.

Elizabeth had such problems with her family, and yet she would always choose to forgive and forget, for the sake of family unity. She would always note how she was out soon,and that it was better to leave such pieces in tact and remove oneself from the situation rather than shatter the fragile state with the truth. The truth always suffer for the greater good. Elizabeth new all of the horrible things that my family did to me and, yet they did worse to her.

I had a disinformation campaign painting me as a potential assassin, a woman abuser, a thief and a liar. I had personal property destroyed, various law suits, was made homeless and yet, Elizabeth told me to forgive, forget, and move on. I did for her sake.

Since Elizabeth left I have become considerably less passionate, less emotional, cold and rational. Yet something snapped on this trap.

It's as though I need a lawyer by my side when talking to my family. I'm fed lies and disinformation in the hopes that I will repeat said follicles and be thought the fool. I'm asked to commit crimes and when I refuse, I'm lectures about family and how disobedience will not be tolerated. I give constructive solutions to ideas and then I'm reminded of what a black sheep I am and how my residence here is not permeant, that I am simply a guest and should know my role.

Just a week prior I was telling my father the popper steps to take in addressing a family matter, and amongst other measures, he went on about digging up corpses and mutilating bodies to send a message.


Well after hearing a lie about silly things, I snapped. I demanded to know why he did not respect me as a human being and why he insisted on feeding my leis that served no purpose other than to humiliate me. This is not a new field for him, I even recalled how we even had a therapist once (appointed by the state in light of my father giving me several stitches across the forehead) he lied to the therapist about things I said and did. Yet such lies from him about myself are taken as the truth, he goes behind my back and repeats them to dishonor me, and yet e also dishonors his own name.

While yelling he got up and told me I didn't know who I was dealing with and that he would fuck me up. this was the last straw. I am taller, faster and stronger and I threw him back in his chair and was ready to take his head off. Something I would have done without hesitation when I was 16 if given the chance.

I yelled to him that we were adults, that I am now the stronger and he the weaker, that he had no chances in ever defeating me , and all he could do was respect me and hope I respected him back. That as a son I could only take so much. Yet with overwhelming odds he was still defiant, he said that he was stronger and I was the weaker one. I told him that if he could get up, that Iw oddly admit defeat and leave and then he went on about how he didn't have to prove himself to me. This fucking pompous prick was still so self righteous and he kept repeating the same blatant lies.

eventually he told me that either he would live here,or I would. Then I told him he could go fuck himself and that I'm going back to my house, and congratulated him fro driving me off as he had just driven off my brother (who just made the final move out of their house) I told him to enjoy his big house and all his empty fucking bedrooms, that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted because no one cares about a old man pretending to be a something, when in fact he is a nothing.

When I was in my auto , I realized how heavy I was breathing, how mad I actually was. I hadn't been this mad in years, I could not recall ever being this mad. I was fuming, raging, and I tried everything I could think of to calm myself down. yet I couldn't I was literally waiting for a excuse to flip, to scream, by arms felt like loaded chambers, I was ready to just get in to a fight.

I was about 40 minutes away when my mother found out and called me. I told her I was already gone and I was not coming back. she ask what happened and I then asked her if it even mattered. That I would tell her what happen and it would contradict his story which would inevitably portray him as the hero. She then told me fine and hung up.

About a hour later, I was a half of the way home and she called me again to come back for dinner, and then I could leave. She did go shopping specially for the ingredients for this dinner, and she laid a massive guilt trip on me, so I drove back at a bit of a quick pace.

When I arrived home they acted as though nothing happened, that I was once again merely a guest. I ate alone in the formal dining room and have been alone about 90% of the time since. I keep thinking if I run in to him I'll knock his lights out (thank god it's a big house)

This morning they left to another family function and I let loose my tongue and all I do now is swear and rage. My mother asked I stay until Sunday at the very least , and I'm giving her every excuse to send me back home without being outright rude.

IE: It's raining out, so I told her she was best off taking my auto. She said it would get dirty, however I then told her since it was outside it was already dirty and I had spent about 12 hours a few days ago cleaning it. (on her most recent vacation I spent about 35 hours on it) That her auto would only get dirty. She claimed it was too big. I argued her past autos had been larger in size, she then said she was used to smaller autos. I then reminder her about how she used to suddenly become claustrophobic when it came time to sit in my old auto (a smaller sports coupe) She then said her car wasRockafellar safer, I then asked her what it had, that mines did not? AWD, ESM, traction control, abs, a million airbags and then I gave up I said fine. I said she could take whatever the fuck she wanted but if she didn't take mine, I wouldn't ever clean her auto again. She said fine.
About 5 minutes later she came to the guest room Iw as staying in and asked me where the keys where. I told her that I was under the assumption we came to a understanding. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted, and thus less work for me.

I realize there is no need to be this rude, curt, or have such a sharp tongue. Yet I'm so mad at the fact that he gets away with so much shit, and she lets him, and always takes his side. I almost wish I had beaten him up as thats what he's going around telling people , and portraying me as a ungrateful son.

No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do I can never make these people happy. I have countless accommodations for heroism, and valor in the line of duty, and my mother only scoffs asking why I risk my life for others? I volunteer and they ask why I would work for nothing. I have awards for professionalism and they say its the equivalent of a award for being normal. I've had several prominent positions in public and private sectors, and yet they always scoff and preach the opposite, then again half the time the lambast me and claim I have falsified my documentation, and then demand proper paper work. As though I'm on trial, and when I do they scoff more so (very scoffy this lost) . I always feared of Elizabeth meeting them, and part of me thanks god she left, and thus never had to meet them. Although I pass Rockafellar and a weekly basis, and it really breaks me heart, the penitential of amazing possibilities resided within those gates. However it's not as though she has ceased saving the world, more so saving the world , via having nothing to do with me. She saves and I destroy, and round and round it goes.


Argh, Fuck thanksgiving.

¶ 11/23/2006 03:26:00 PM //

Amongst many painful reminds of what was...to add to the ever growing list of thing I can't bring myself/breaks my heart to do...

Go to MOMA
View Starry Night by Van Goh
Eat blue M&M's
Go to California without her
Date after Elizabeth
fallout of love...

and now...I cannot see Mission Impossible 3, because thinking about doing so...only reminds me of Mission Impossible 2, and thus breaks my heart to see it without her.
If only I could go with her, so we could ignore the movie together...


Although I did dream about her again last night, it was of the x rated sort. I couldn't seem to satisfy her no matter what I tired and she finally gave up out of frustration. (Far, far from the reality of our past encounters, more like giving up out of sheer exhaustion on her part) yet it makes me wonder. Perhaps I could not mentally stimulate her? or provide for her in other matters and fashions that she needed? It seems I will never really know and only be left to asking such questions...why?

¶ 11/21/2006 03:46:00 PM //

I can't help but feel, at lest part of me feels what a tragic loss Elizabeth was...I'm still devastated, I still cry(not really), I still lose any and all control, I have no more passion...for anything. It's the mundane repeating itself. I pray that she will return and yet...part of me knows these wishes shall never come in to fruition, while another part of me does not want them to.

The logic being...that I can not be happy without Elizabeth, or so I feel has been fact up till this point in time, and I also feel I can not be happy, without Elizabeth being happy. Thus , even if she was with me, she would not be happy, and thus I would not. Either case...I don't think I can win. The closest I come to happiness, is knowing she is happy with someone else. I can't bear the thought of entrapping such a wonderful person. It would be like taking the birds and trees, flowers and blue sky's, taking the moon and the stars, and hiding them, keeping them to myself. I need for her to be free.

At somepoint, love simply fails to conquer for some. For others, it only conquers themselves.

Some days I think I'll make it, till I close my eyes, see her smile, smell her scent, feel her touch. Nothing about us made sense, nothing about us should have worked, but I didn't care. Nothing made sense until I was with her and then...then it was all worth it. It was all so crystal clear. It was so simple, so painless...do whatever I must to be with her, to stay with her. Yet, I did not want to limit her freedoms in any form or fashion. I always wanted her happiness, above all else. For there never to be a reason for her not to smile , for her heart not to be light, and eyes to stop shining the way they did so brilliantly, so radiantly.

If such a understanding, such a wonderful and caring indavidual will have nothing to do with me...then what does that speak of the evil, horrible, vindictive bastard that I am?

¶ 11/13/2006 04:27:00 PM //

Having the sort of auto I have, is like dating a supermodel...who cheats.

In 2 months ago It had close to 10,000usd worth of work from the dealership(2 trips), and then last month the warranty expired. Since then...

1. broken bonnet sensor
2. broken door latch sensor
3. Cd player error
4. Rear wiper
5. Coolant leak
6. The return of the coolant leak

All problems have been fixed, however I think I may have been better off buying a Austin Martin. Although some say a Austin Martin is a guaranteed night with a supermodel, however recent studies have found a puppy to be more effective. I've always wanted a dog, and Martins break down all the time.


Dating Elizabeth on the other hand...I now know was like dating a supermodel/bond girl ...who cheated.


Once a year, I give away as though it's going out of fashion. I sit down to a table, surrounded by my broker, my accountant, my lawyers, etc and I sign away the life I pretend to live for a few hours. Amongst the checks for legal retainer fees, bribes, donations to charity, court settlements, benevolent associations, etc a check is slipped in there by nefarious parties, cleared by my lawyers and it's looked at, however never spoken about. I sign the check and off it promptly goes via fed-ex. The only monetary sum that I continue to spend on Elizabeth, is via private investigation firms. Agencies, public and private , tax payer, and privately funded agencies, that look after my only real interests on this world, or the next.

I tell them to never get involved unless you see physical harm, never interfere with day to day operations, and to be as visible as the air. I tell them I need no reports, but if I find them slacking, I will come down hard with enough hired guns to put the apocalypse to shame. I will come down with vengeance so blind in it's rage, so furious that god himself would be taken aback and cower in fear. Hell hath no fury as do I should I ever find something should become of her, the goddess who once masqueraded as my angel.

Hence my surprise when I found myself in a seedy New Jersey apartment, surrounded by men with accents and arms, poised for a ok coral. This being one of the few times I have ever traveled with such a private security contingency in the states. I feared for what I would do after hearing from the messenger, the one I never expected to see.

Elizabeth, I've consulted with my counsel, those hired, and from those above, and it pains me to say this... however I know of your problems. I know about your recent on goings, and turmoil with your father, I know about the weponization / militarization programs, that if not already, will come up. I also know of the others, of your new found materialism, that never seemed to exist when I was around, blinded by love. I still love you, love that still runs through my core and as much as I wish to be rid of it...I can't. I am forever yours, by choice of forces in action that reside far beyond my capacity for reasoning. Yet I still respect your decisions , namely the one to never see me. Out of respect for you. However part of me feels, that although most times you do know what is best for you, this may not be one of those times.

Let me help, you don't even have to see,hear, or even speak to me. Just a simple email, even by proxy if you so wish it. I know you're in trouble, I know this is a dark time in your life. In the past, I have shown a willingness to sacrifice for you in the past, and this time will be no different other than you will not have to deal with me. Should you choose to involve me, I promise no harm will come to you, or your family. As you have asked in the past, I will leave them alone and keep my distance. Only those who wish to harm you (with the exception of your Father) I can be as discreet as you wish, or as pronounced as you wish. I can provide tactical advisers if need be, and agency consul.

Elizabeth, for you , I would assemble legions, we would take over the world for a smile form you, to hear you are in trouble, I would do anything to get you out. I would go to school, become a biomedical investigator, develop a cure for ebola, just so I could help you with your homework (if you can wait 20 or so years..Although you said I was smarter, it was never so, it was always you that was the truly gifted one)

For you I would alter space and time, I would move mountains, defy logic , reasoning, the laws of physics, the laws of man, the dictations of sanity.

Yet I understand all these things are not reasons enough, or increase the likelihood of you ever loving me again, that they are mearly the meanderings of a person you once knew, however if my living on the edge of insanity, my flawed reasonings, my willingness to do horrible things for a saint as yourself, if these are methods by which you can escape your problems, your troubles, please, so be it, let me know. I'd rather be a soldier employed in service of a ungrateful princess, that a soldier exiled while you are in need. Let my corrupt morality help you in your higher cause. Even god once worked with Satan, let me be your Gabriel...let me be your means to a end. I promise you total isolation from myself and my methods.

Please?

¶ 11/11/2006 07:11:00 AM //

I know I did...
I didn't actually vote like this...but I was tempted...












Ahh our old freind Papa Smurf.





Won'the ever be able to afford his rent?
Is public housing really that hard to get?


As a side note, I went to the RTDH (Rent is too dam high) website and...sigh.
He has the worst page, with repeating music and he's selling his book " A vet for life"....le sigh. Now if the book was "Soldier for Life" I'd think ok..he's going to enlist and reup every time...but nope. He's a vet for life. Isn't that just sort of the defacto standard? Sort of like saying I'm going to retire for life after the age of 65?

¶ 11/07/2006 06:39:00 PM //