The Land of the Average Fantastic

The thing I loved about living in Europe the most was you could be fantastic and still be average. I feel being the most you can be in the US just sets you up to be targeted. I have always felt that way about this land. When I'm not here I'm much more myself. So, set me free.

 I always felt being the man my father was was not achievable on any continent; and I was always ok with that.  I watched this war hero get betrayed by his wife & daughters because he loved his son. Only, I was too young to fully appreciate what I was seeing; and how it would impact me forever.

 There are some people who overshadow you even after they are gone and it's perfectly ok. I was always ok with that. Actually I excelled at it. I think we both agreed that was a problem and accepted it and that it could have been worse given the efforts of my mother.

What hope had I, the son of a divorced war hero, in the affairs of the heart in the US. It wasn't us, it was them.  Sometimes the movie Back to the Future involves going back in time to say '1901' and messing up your grandfather's day, making it impossible to go on a long 'cruise'.. 🤔

 

I wonder if she knows I still think of her.. or if she even remembers me.

I said this on zero hedge and someone said, yeah at that time he could have gone to switzerland I think it was to work on the rails. Of course my imagination ran wild. I'd like to think others have wondered similar things.

 The way she is holding that phone is the anthesis of the rest of the picture. Lucifer laughs back at you from everywhere.

 I think ultimately it was the cell phones that kept me from embarking on that journey 10 years ago. I knew this would not end well. They still think those things are safe. I can't mourn everyone.

In the face of this mess, we have expelled great energy. This is energy that could have been poured into something great & wonderful.

That, I would imagine, is a large part of their function in this realm, to keep us from becoming our true higher self. I tried to tell myself being bad was cool when I was young.  My guardian angles were just like, are you done yet.. 

 In the final analysis, my father did not speak the language of a mother who does not love her son, especially an Italian mother. My mother's disregard for me was entirely foreign to him.  He had been able comprehend & navigate a great deal in life. Just not that.  Seeing how that conflict lived inside of him hurt me a great deal, especially since I knew he had been to hell and back.

I often wondered why he didn't just say fuck it, at some point. I suppose he had invested so much already in his family.

This was the first time I remember him protecting me from them; but I don't remember it entirely. I have never seen my sisters this heavy again, ever. I think it was around this time my mother and 3 sisters decided to turn on this war hero (and me). My abuser is there to my father's left. She never could accept that I existed.

 

The anger & hatred ultimately destroyed her liver? They say anger is stored there.  She wasn't a drinker than I was aware of.

 

They were as close as a family could be. I would never know that outside of photos and some faint memories before I was hustled away to a commercial area of town.  The mother of the year award wasn't going to earn itself. 

 

 I noticed my typos are creeping up. Recently the VA pretty much cancelled my health insurance. Wasn't that great to begin with; but it gets your blood pressure up for a minute when things like that happen.   I could go rage against the machine, but he machine is what enabled it. 

 

 A war hero collecting souvenirs of a life that was going to be taken from him.  This day was semi confusing for me. Why are we taking all these pics.  I don't remember ever seeing this uniform again. 

 

She must have tortured him with I'm taking him and leaving for heaven knows how long.  She pretty much Jobed me. All my toys were left behind save a few; and some of those few my abuser used to throw down the heating grate of our coal heated hell spot. 

 

The steel pier in AC

 My father's sense of humor was just one more thing I never got to relax and appreciate, not with my mother, the happiness police lurking about.  You will eat bugs and like it, says the new world order and their useful idiots. 

 

I suppose mom was among the original body snatchers. She didn't want me for herself.  I was her pawn or ace in the hole, or in this case, ace in the hole in the wall, locked up in his bedroom next to the body shop.

My dad (center) my uncle Patsy (l) and my dad's best friend (r).  Most of what lucy fur takes from you is time.

 When I finally got near 16, we made our move to liberate me from estrogen hell.  She would not give him my birth certificate. All this man had been though, and now he had to find a work around for that. I still have the one he got through who knows what mean$.  

 

I think, at some point, after my dad passed she gave it to me, after she tortured us with it.  

 

I don't think it is possible for a father to love a son more than my dad loved me.

The operatives worked their magic on the females in my family  for sure. It was all a 'perfect' storm.. 

After the body snatching, it all felt like we were stealing when we were having father and son bonding time.

My dad loved VW's

Was trying to keep my chin up. My mother had the usual sand her her nether regions on this day as well. Probably tortured him more than she did me on this day. 

 

Hardly the life he envisioned for his son.  I have no doubt he could see I was unhappy.  I hated living here with a passion I cannot express, not with this language anyway. 

 

 I'm of the mind the experiment is over. My family, well this part of it anyway, has test run the USA for 121 years and it's time to move on; but the shark is in the way.  

 

I feel blessed to stand on the shoulders of such a great man, who had such wonderful brothers and sisters.  We should leave doubly more when given such a hand up; and yet here we are, on the brink.