It Consumes You

In the quiet depths where shadows weave,

Lies a soul, unanchored, struggling to believe.

A void expands, consuming light, consuming glee,

Leaving nothing but echoes of what used to be.

"There's nothing left of you to like," a whisper in the night,

A ghostly murmur, fading, deprived of might.

"There's nothing left of you to love," a deeper, darker plea,

A heart once vibrant, now bound in apathy.

"There's nothing left to you for anything," the silence roars,

A desolate confession, from within closed doors.

It's a darkness, relentless, that takes without giving,

Eroding the essence, my joy of living.

Piece by peace, it disassembles my core,

Leaving a husk, barely recognizable anymore.

Bit by bit, the darkness feasts, unkind,

Devouring hope, leaving despair behind.

Until succumbing seems the only path to tread,

In this relentless night, where light has fled.

I remember, when within the deepest, darkest night,

There was the potential for dawn, a sliver of light.

Now my journey is fraught, the climb steep,

No more strength within, not even a spark to keep.

For now I live in the void, where shadows dance,

Nothing more than a burden, not worth a second glance.

I held on, though the darkness did consume,

With no more strength to dispel the gloom.

For within the nothing, there's something true,

Nothing left but anger and hate, this death is all because of you.

Shattered

You shattered me, the final soul I believed  

Held my well-being above all, a deceptive weave.  

Your care, it seemed, was but a conditional art,  

Present only when it served your heart.  

You profess love, claim I'm your true desire,  

Yet with another, you kindle a lesser fire.  

You lament their clinginess, seek refuge in my grace,  

But replicate the wrongs, a familiar disgrace.  

You've razed the trust I once freely gave,  

Leaving me to navigate a lonely, wary wave.  

Now, you stand with those who've shown me clear,  

What I seek not in life, whom to steer near.  

This lesson, though harsh, has opened my eyes,  

To discern truth amidst a sea of lies.  

I'll forge ahead, with a heart both wary and wise,  

Seeking a love that no longer disguises its guise.

Out Of The Blue

After a day filled with unexpected laughter and warmth, courtesy of my time with my daughter, the quiet of the evening settled around me with a gentle familiarity. These moments of joy, increasingly rare, shine all the brighter against the backdrop of my usual solitude. Yet, as I sat there, lost in thought, the abrupt ring of the phone pierced the calm—a call from my ex wife, of all people.

Her voice on the other end was a bolt from the blue, stark against the serene day I had just enjoyed. Our last exchange was anything but warm; anger had clouded my judgment upon learning she had visited Texas only to leave as silently as she arrived, taking our son back to North Carolina without a word to me. It felt like a betrayal, a clandestine move that left me grappling with a mix of abandonment and sorrow.

The complexity of emotions that my ex's call evoked was overwhelming. Resentment for her silent departure with our son, pain from the estrangement it symbolized, and a deep-seated sadness for the lost Father's Days that once brought joy now marred by absence. And then, the card— a Father's Day card from years ago, filled with my boys' handwritten notes. Doris knew well the weight of its significance, the depth of pain its memory invoked, especially in light of the years of silence that followed.

This evening's unexpected turn, juxtaposed with the day's earlier happiness, underscores the bittersweet tapestry of my current existence. My ex's call, unwelcome yet poignant, dredged up memories long buried, reopening old wounds. It served as a harsh reminder of the distances that have grown between us, not just in miles but in shared moments, in understanding, and in heart.

Yet, amidst the pain and reflection, today's time spent with my daughter remains a beacon of hope, a reminder that not all is lost. Despite the complexities and challenges that lie in the tangled web of past and present relationships, moments of genuine connection, like those with my daughter, offer a glimmer of what could be—a path toward reconciliation, understanding, and perhaps, healing.

A Caged Animal

In this moment, I grapple with a profound sense of loss, a loss so deep it feels as if it's chipping away at my very essence. The imposition of a GPS monitor, an ever-watchful eye, represents more than just a physical constraint—it's a symbolic stripping away of my autonomy, my freedom. It feels as though I'm being incessantly tracked, every movement scrutinized, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

The irony of this situation is not lost on me. I've lived my life as a man of peace, never once resorting to violence as a means to an end. My hands have always been instruments of care, never harm. Yet, here I stand, treated as a menace to society, branded with a device that screams 'dangerous,' despite my peaceful nature. This contradiction wounds me deeply, creating a chasm between who I know myself to be and how I am perceived.

The freedom to simply be, to wander into the woods and immerse myself in the tranquility of nature, has been taken from me. Those woods were my sanctuary, a place where I could find solace and a sense of safety. Now, that sanctuary feels beyond my reach. The constant awareness that my every move is being monitored has erected invisible walls around me, confining me in a world where the concept of safety feels like a distant memory.

This constant state of vigilance is exhausting, eating away at my peace of mind. The thought of surrendering to confinement, of choosing jail over this perpetual state of surveillance, has crossed my mind more times than I care to admit. Perhaps in seeking to avoid one form of captivity, I've unwittingly traded it for another, more insidious form. The weight of this realization is crushing, leaving me to ponder if the path of least resistance might bring some semblance of peace, or if it's merely another form of surrender.

As I navigate this labyrinth of emotions and restrictions, I find myself at a crossroads, searching for a way to reclaim a sense of self in a world that seems determined to define me by my limitations rather than my humanity.

I Will Take It

On a day shrouded in shadows, veiled in silent strife,

When fate unwound its harsh decree upon my angel's life.

The news fell like autumn leaves, with a cruel, ungentle sting,

My heart heard the silence of an angel robbed of wings.

In the garden of our lives, where love had freely grown,

A storm brewed in secret, its fury yet unknown.

To the world, I showed a fortress, unyielding, strong, and bright,

But within my soul’s cloister, I battled through the night.

"Why her?" I railed at heavens, in a silent, inward scream,

"She, who’s nurtured life, now bears this unseen dream.

Four beautiful blossoms she tenderly brought to light,

Now faces her twilight years in an unjust fight."

Her smile, a beacon of hope, amidst the encroaching gloom,

Her strength, a testament, in facing impending doom.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, to the stars, I plead and say,

"Take this burden from her, let me bear it, I pray."

"Let my shoulders carry the weight, let my spirit face the test,

For she’s the heart of our home, the architect of our nest.

In the golden years meant for rest, peace, and love’s embrace,

She stands in the storm, with courage, dignity, and grace."

God, in your infinite wisdom, where pain and love entwine,

Hear a humble plea, let her suffering be mine.

Ease her journey, lift her spirit, grant her wings to soar,

For she is an angel, deserving of so much more.

As seasons change and years will pass, whatever may come to be,

Together we’ll navigate this path, her hand clasped in mine, eternally.

In love’s eternal garden, where true strength is found,

We stand united, unbroken, on this hallowed ground.

Who Am I?

Today, it hit me with a clarity that's been elusive for so long. It's as if I've been walking through a fog, and suddenly, it lifted, revealing a landscape that's both familiar and utterly foreign. The essence of my turmoil isn't about guilt or innocence in the eyes of the law; it's about the court of public opinion, where judgments are passed not on evidence, but on perception.

I've always operated under the principle of love and integrity, trying to do right by those around me. Yet, when faced with betrayal, my response, though born out of pain, has been labeled as transgression. They accuse me of violating privacy, of crossing lines that society deems sacred, suggesting that such actions merit incarceration. But the question that gnaws at me is, do they truly? In my heart, I believe not, for aggression, the kind that seeks to harm, has never been my path.

It's a peculiar form of isolation, to be deemed a pariah for your reactions to betrayal, to have your pleas and protests drowned out by the cacophony of condemnation. This vilification has led me to question the very core of who I am. Am I the monster they claim me to be? This question haunts my waking moments, a specter whispering doubts into my ear.

It's impossible not to draw parallels with the protagonist of "A Beautiful Mind," whose reality was a tapestry woven from the threads of his own mind, indistinguishable from the fabric of the world around him. Am I like him, blind to my own nature, a stranger to myself?

This journey of introspection is fraught with uncertainty. Yet, it's a path I must traverse, seeking truth amidst the shadows of doubt. For only in confronting these questions can I hope to find peace, not just within the confines of society's judgments, but within the depths of my own soul.

- Curtis

Let The Legal Battle Begin

Journal Entry:

Embarking on this journey as my own legal advocate, embracing the role with the rights of a lawyer at my disposal, has been an intense yet clarifying experience. With over eight subpoenas prepared and ready to be dispatched as we head to trial, my resolve has never been stronger. The decision to stand firm, to refuse any plea bargain when I stand innocent of the charges against me, is not one I've taken lightly. It's a stance against a system that too often pressures the innocent to concede for the sake of expediency.

Among these subpoenas are requests for records from various dating sites, phone and text records from multiple carriers, and testimonies from key individuals ready to provide sworn statements. These statements are crucial—they directly challenge the credibility of the allegations laid out in the original petition, which was itself submitted under oath. This evidence alone hints at the possibility of perjury charges against the plaintiff, revealing the shaky foundation upon which their case stands.

The depth of my investigation has uncovered information across a spectrum of sources, including no less than thirty usernames from dating sites. One username in particular, "Fruit Loops," promises to bring an intriguing dimension to the trial. It's these pieces of evidence, collected meticulously in my role as a pro se litigant, that I believe will unravel the narrative constructed against me.

This path I've chosen, away from the shadows of a plea bargain and into the light of trial, is fraught with challenges. Yet, it's a path that promises justice, not just for me but as a testament to the truth. My preparations, grounded in the legal rights and responsibilities I've taken upon myself, are not just about proving my innocence. They're about exposing the truth, about ensuring that the legal system works as it should, with justice as the guiding principle.

As I stand ready to defend myself, the weight of these subpoenas in hand, I am reminded of the power of truth. The battle ahead is not just legal; it's a fight for fairness, for integrity, and for the vindication of my name. The evidence I've gathered, the testimonies poised to be heard, all lead to a trial that I believe will not only clear my name but also shed light on the misuse of the legal system for personal vendettas. In the end, it's a trial that will be as much about restoring my reputation as it is about revealing the truth behind the allegations.

A Caged Animal

In the silence of this room, I sit, feeling trapped, a rat,

Encased not in steel, but in judgment's heavy weight, flat.

The armor I once bore, thin air it seems to be,

Ripped away, leaving me bare, in a vast, unfriendly sea.

Whispers and shadows have always been friends close,

Rumors of fights and conquests, a cloak I proudly chose.

A bad boy, they said, fierce in every tale spun,

Yet, in truth, my battles are few, victories hardly won.

Less than four encounters where fists were meant to fly,

I’m no beast, no monster, on that you can rely.

A flea poses more threat than I could ever bring,

But labels stick, they shape the bell that continues to ring.

The only shield I had, a skill honed with care,

To vanish, to blend, to escape the predatory stare.

Solitude, my refuge, from those with harm in mind,

But even that, they took, leaving me nowhere to find.

Bound by lies, by deceit, a GPS declares my every move,

My wings clipped, my spirit caged, nothing left to prove.

This tag, an unyielding echo of every whispered fear,

A reminder of a freedom lost, year after endless year.

Will this chain ever break? Will the monitor ever go?

Or is this my fate, an eternal show?

They must act, remove this bind, set my spirit free,

Or let it be my constant companion, even as they bury me.

A call for justice, for truth, to break through the night,

For the world to see beyond the rumors, beyond the fright.

A plea for understanding, for peace, to finally win,

To shed the labels, the monitor, the skin I'm trapped within.

Dear God

God, if You're out there, listening, I stand before You not just as a man, but as a soul laid bare, weather-beaten by the tumults of life, seeking solace, understanding, perhaps even redemption. My father, a beacon of unwavering faith, always seemed to navigate life's storms with a serene trust in Your guidance. His faith was a lighthouse in the dark, a testament to the power of belief. I've admired that light from afar, feeling the warmth yet never fully basking in its glow. My own faith has flickered in the wind, strong one moment and weak the next, never quite steady, never as resolute.

Life, as You've witnessed, has been a series of trials, each leaving its mark upon my spirit. From the chaos of childhood, through the harsh realities of adulthood, to the unspeakable horrors I encountered in the military, my path has been strewn with obstacles that seemed insurmountable. Through it all, You've been a silent observer, privy to every thought, every tear, every moment of despair. The weight of these experiences has often felt like a yoke around my neck, dragging me down, yet somehow, I've managed to keep moving forward, however aimlessly it may seem.

Love has been a fleeting visitor in my life, arriving with promises of eternal warmth only to depart, leaving a chill in its wake. I've felt the embrace of love, its tender touch, and the sheer joy of connecting with another soul on the deepest level. Yet, each time, it has slipped through my fingers like water, leaving me parched and longing for just one more drop. The pain of these losses haunts me, a constant reminder of what could have been, of moments shared and then lost to time.

In my quest to find purpose, to make a difference, however small, I've often felt like a lone voice in the wilderness, shouting into the void. I've tried to be a force for good, to spread kindness like seeds in the hope that they might take root and flourish. But the world can be a harsh, unforgiving place, and my efforts sometimes seem like drops in an endless ocean of need. The injustices I see, the pain and suffering of the innocent, it weighs heavily on my heart. I can't help but question why, why the innocent must suffer while those who inflict pain seem to do so with impunity.

I've offered myself, my very life, in exchange for the sparing of those innocents, believing that my sacrifice could somehow tip the scales, could make a difference. And yet, I remain. This has led me to wonder, what is it that You see in me? What purpose do I serve in this vast, intricate tapestry of existence? Why am I spared when so many seemingly more deserving souls are not?

In this moment of raw honesty, I'm asking for Your guidance, for a sign, for some indication of the path I'm meant to walk. Help me understand the lessons I'm to learn from the trials I've faced, the pain I've endured, and the losses I've suffered. Show me how to transform these experiences into stepping stones towards a greater understanding, towards a deeper connection with You and with the essence of my own soul.

Let me see the light in myself that others have seen, the light I've struggled to recognize and embrace. Help me find the strength to continue on this journey, not just as a survivor, but as a beacon for others who navigate their own storms. Teach me to find joy in the journey, peace in the midst of turmoil, and hope in the face of despair.

I stand here, God, a man humbled by life's trials, seeking not just answers but understanding. I yearn for a sense of belonging, a place within this vast universe where I can say with certainty that I am where I'm meant to be, doing what I'm meant to do. In this moment of communion with You, let me find the courage to face whatever comes next, armed with faith, hope, and love. Let my life be a testament, not to the struggles I've faced, but to the strength, resilience, and compassion that can emerge from the deepest wells of despair. This is my prayer, a plea for clarity, for purpose, and for peace.

Remember What I Was And Not What I Became

In fractured shards of mind I see, The ghost of who I used to be. Now a twisted form, a shattered shell, tormented soul ablaze, where nightmares dwell.

Remember me, before the storm, When laughter danced, and hope kept warm. No BPD's dark, tangled knot, vivid echoes of abuse, never forgot.

Remember my hands that sought to heal, My gentle heart that could reveal the depths of trust, my eyes so bright, Before the shadows claimed my light.

Remember not the demons' roar, Nor walls I built to shield my core. I remember my dreams, whispered and sweet, This boy who danced with bare, young feet.

Remember not the monster's guise, Nor shadows cast by pained disguise. I remember love, unwavering, true, this boy who yearned for love from you.

Abandoned, yes, a lonely plight, Lost love's ember burns dull and faint. Though isolation chills my bone, I realized, love cant find its home.

So let the tears of memory fall, For who I was, before the fall. And in the echoes, brutal not kind, Remember me, with heart and mind. 

Does He Know?

In the whispering shadows where truths often hide,  

A voice ponders on love, its twists and turns wide.  

"Does he see her essence, pure and untamed,  

Her perfection, her grace, not to be blamed?

Does he grasp the treasure within his reach,  

A love so profound, no words could teach?  

For I've danced with fortune, held it close,  

Only to see its ghost when it mattered the most.

I've yearned for a love, so deep, so vast,  

Only realizing its value once it had passed.  

But in her, I see all I've ever desired,  

A soul so captivating, endlessly admired.

Yet, amidst this chorus of praise, I pause to wonder,  

What magic does he hold that pulls her asunder?  

What does he possess, this enigma, this charm,  

That draws her to him, immune to alarm?

I ponder, what secrets lie in his gaze,  

That captivate her heart, setting it ablaze?  

What whispers in the wind, what unspoken bond,  

Makes her see in him, of whom she's so fond?

I hope he sees beyond the surface, so clear,  

Recognizes the gem before him, so dear.  

May he not break her heart, nor let her tears flow,  

For she is a queen, in her radiance, she does glow.

She deserves not the scars of careless hands,  

But to be cherished, as true love demands.  

In my eyes, she's flawless, without a single fault,  

A beacon of perfection, in her, no blemish to assault.

So, I hope he realizes, before it's too late,  

The magnitude of his fortune, the turn of fate.  

For she is a treasure, in every possible way,  

May he honor her love, each and every day.

And yet, in the silent echo of my heart's refrain,  

I wonder, what draws her to him, amidst the pain?  

What sees she in him, that in me remains unseen,  

A puzzle, a mystery, in love's vast, uncharted scene."

In this reflection, a plea for love's true sight,  

A wish for recognition, in the heart's gentle light.  

May love be cherished, in its purest form embraced,  

A journey of devotion, in tender grace laced.

Gone Before It Even Started

In the quiet whispers of the breaking dawn,

There walked a man, forlorn, yet drawn

To memories of a love that shone so bright,

Vanished like shadows fleeing from light.

He thought he'd found his heart's true call,

A soulmate to catch him should he fall,

In her gaze, a future so clear and bright,

A promise of day after the longest night.

They danced on the edge of something great,

A bond he believed was sealed by fate,

But before their story could truly start,

She vanished, leaving a shattered heart.

Ghosted, she left without a trace,

Her absence a void he couldn't replace.

No reasons given, no goodbyes said,

Just echoes of silence, heavy as lead.

He pondered what he thought he knew,

Was their connection not true?

A phantom love, was she just a mirage?

Leaving him at the mercy of sabotage.

Yet in the pain of her sudden departure,

He found a resilience, a kind of rapture.

Understanding sometimes love is a lesson,

Not just a path to possession.

He learned to love the solitude,

Finding peace in the interlude.

For love that's true doesn't flee or hide,

But stands firm, always by your side.

So he walks on, under the stars' gleam,

Wiser now, with a new dream.

For even a heart once led astray,

Finds hope in love's eternal ballet.

Your Web Of Lies

In shadows deep, where secrets lie,  

A lady lived, beneath a darkened sky.  

She tried to tread the path of truth so narrow,  

But her words were like an untrue arrow.  

Manipulations spun from silken threads,  

Wove around her heart, her soul in shreds.  

Victim, too, of her own mind's cruel deceit,  

A battle within she could never defeat.  

She portrayed a love, so bright, so pure,  

But in her heart, intentions were never sure.  

With a smile, she turned, betrayal so stark,  

And in his back, she left a biting mark.  

She tried to send him far, far away,  

Believing it would ease her own disarray.  

But in her actions, errors were sown,  

A dark life lived, silently, alone.  

Her secrets, like shadows, grew tall and wide,  

A darkened life she never could confide.  

But time, relentless, unveiled the night,  

Bringing her deeds into the light.  

Now the moment has come, a painful echo,  

For her to face what was hidden below.  

The truths she masked, the lies she wove,  

A tangled web, a treasure trove.  

In revealing light, her path she sees,  

A chance to mend, to heal, to appease.  

Though darkness embraced her every stride,  

In the end, it's she who must decide.  

To step from shadows, to seek the day,  

To right the wrongs, to find her way.  

For even in the deepest, darkest night,  

A new dawn waits, just out of sight.  

So let her journey from the dark to light,  

Embrace the truth, and hold it tight.  

For in the end, it's love, not lies,  

That heals the soul, and lifts the skies.

The Perfect Vision

In the quiet of a dream's gentle embrace,

I find myself lost, in time and space.

Before me, she sleeps, a vision so clear,

A perfect being, whom the heavens hold dear.

Never had I thought, in my deepest dreams,

Someone could embody my heart's silent screams.

She is everything, my soul ever craved,

A dream come alive, from the fantasies I've saved.

In her presence, I feel a joy so profound,

A beauty so deep, it's nearly unbound.

Yet, within this perfection, lies a subtle flaw,

She belongs to another, by fate's cruel law.

This truth, though it should weigh heavy with sorrow,

Ignites a flame of hope for all my tomorrows.

For her very existence, so pure and so bright,

Confirms that such love is not just a flight.

It gives me hope, in the vast sea of life,

That I'll find my counterpart, free from strife.

Perhaps fate will shift, and in her heart, she'll see,

The love she's with, isn't where she's meant to be.

Or maybe, it's me who will find, in due time,

A soul just like hers, in this world so sublime.

A partner, a lover, whose spirit will intertwine,

With mine, in a dance, divinely designed.

So here I stand, at life's complex crossroad,

Embracing the journey, no matter how broad.

Believing in love, in its power to transcend,

And in the magic of fate, to bring me my end.

For in her, I see the promise of days,

Filled with love, in countless ways.

Though she may not be mine to hold close and cherish,

Her presence alone dispels all my perish.

It assures me that love, in its truest form, exists,

And in this vast world, my own love persists.

I hold onto hope, with a heart open and free,

For somewhere out there, is the one meant for me.

Curtis Is My Name

In the twilight of a dream, I stand, Curtis by name, a heart wide open,

Bearing scars from battles fought, and words unspoken,

A veteran of life's harsh wars, not just those in lands afar,

Longing for a bond unbroken, a love that's fixed like the North Star.

I've chased the shadows of status, wealth, and worldly praise,

Believed in the hollow echo of prosperity's maze.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, beneath the moon's gentle gaze,

I've learned the truth that sets the soul ablaze.

It's not in gold or glitter that our true worth does lie,

Nor in the accolades that pass with a fleeting sigh.

But in the warmth of a hand held tight, in the softness of a sigh,

In the companionship we crave, that no riches can buy.

I hunger for a connection that transcends time's cruel test,

A love that's woven in the fabric of the chest.

To be needed, to be wanted, not as a hero in a frame,

But for the whispers of my heart, Curtis is my name.

I yearn to give love, in its purest, truest form,

To shelter another from life's relentless storm.

For in giving we receive, in a cycle ever true,

The essence of our being, in the love we pursue.

Let us cherish each other, for this journey is but brief,

In honesty and integrity, we find relief.

Not in the fleeting shadows of material desire,

But in the warmth of love's eternal fire.

So, I stand here dreaming, under the vast, starlit sky,

A soul awakened, with a hopeful sigh.

For it's in love we find our purpose, our true calling's sound,

In the bond unbroken, the companionship profound.

Conflicted

As night falls and the world outside my window begins to quiet, my mind races, caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. It's hard to find a starting point in this whirlwind of feelings. On one side, there's a burning desire for justice, for a reckoning that feels long overdue. This part of me craves the most profound revenge possible, a balancing of scales that seems the only appropriate response to the hurt and betrayal I've endured.

But then, there's another side—a softer, more caring side that can't help but worry about her well-being. Despite everything, I find myself hoping that she's safe, that she's warm, and that she's not going hungry. It's a strange contradiction, feeling such deep anger and yet being concerned for the very person who caused this turmoil. Soon, the full extent of her actions will come to light, and I'm holding onto the hope that the truth will shine through. I'm banking on justice to prevail, even though the thought of it brings a heaviness to my heart.

The idea of her facing the consequences, possibly having to leave, makes me feel sick. It's confusing to feel so torn, to love and hate someone so intensely at the same time. This puzzle of emotions is hard to navigate, leaving me wondering why anyone would choose punishment over understanding, especially when mental health struggles are part of the equation. Why turn your back on someone who's facing challenges that you yourself can relate to?

This inner conflict—wanting her to face the music for her actions yet fearing for her at the same time—is a tough battle. It's indicative of the complex journey we've been on, marked by moments of closeness and periods of profound betrayal. The irony of our situation, both of us dealing with our mental health issues and yet finding ourselves at such a juncture, is not lost on me.

Writing down these thoughts as the night wears on brings a small measure of peace. It's a way to navigate through the storm of my emotions, to make sense of the chaos. There's a part of me that hopes for a resolution where justice is served but also leaves room for healing and understanding. Until that day comes, I stand guard over my heart, weathering the storm within, yet hopeful for a morning where empathy and compassion break through the darkness, offering a new perspective on the pain and conflict that currently envelop me.

And then there’s this other part of me, the part I rarely let anyone see. It’s the side of me that’s tired, so profoundly tired of the constant struggle, of having to fight for every shred of happiness, for any semblance of peace in my life. This weariness isn’t just physical; it’s deep in my soul, an exhaustion that feels like it’s etched into the very fabric of my being.

I’m scared to admit this, even to myself, but there are moments when I wish for an end. The thought crosses my mind, dark and unwelcome, that I wish the next visit to the doctor would bring news of a terminal condition, that I only had a few months left. It’s a thought born from despair, from a place so dark within me that it frightens me to acknowledge its existence. It’s not really a longing for death, but a desperate need for relief from this relentless battle, from the pain and the struggles that seem to define my existence.

This confession is one of the hardest to make, a whisper in the night that speaks of my deepest fears and darkest moments. It’s a reflection of the exhaustion that comes from years of battling, not just with external circumstances, but with my own mind, with my own heart. It’s a silent scream for respite, for a moment of peace in a life that feels constantly besieged by storms.

The Wall

In a land of dreams fulfilled, under skies so endlessly blue,  

Lived a man with all he wished, but to this truth, he had no clue.  

His heart, a fortress mighty, walls of stone, both thick and tall,  

Built from youth's harsh lessons, a barricade against all falls.

Trauma's shadow, long and dark, stretched across his sunlit days,  

Blinded by past pain and fear, he walked in a bewildered haze.  

Fortune, love, and joy abounded, yet he saw not their embrace,  

Guarded, cloaked in armor, he lost life's tender, loving race.

These walls, erected for protection, became his solemn, lonely cell,  

A self-made prison of isolation, a place where no other soul could dwell.  

In pursuit of safety, he lost the key, to open up, to truly be free,  

His heart, once vibrant, now a fortress, in a sea of tranquility.

Then came the day, a crack appeared, light piercing through the dark,  

A thought, a chance, to tear down these walls, to embark on a new arc.  

With hands that trembled, and breaths that heaved, he dismantled his fear,  

Brick by brick, the walls fell, exposing a heart sincere.

But as the dust settled, and he stepped out, vulnerable but bold,  

He found the world outside, quiet, empty, incredibly cold.  

The people, the places, the dreams he'd missed, by walls concealed,  

Were not there waiting, as he hoped, his fate seemingly sealed.

Yet, in this void, a lesson learned, a truth profoundly deep,  

That walls we build to shield our hearts, are the same that make us weep.  

For life, with all its pain and joy, requires us to feel, to see,  

That vulnerability, though a risk, is what sets our spirits free.

So here he stands, amidst the ruins of his once mighty, fearsome walls,  

Awakened to life's beauty, ready to catch him when he falls.  

Though the path may be lonely, and the journey long and steep,  

He walks forward, unguarded, his soul no longer asleep.

Are You Ok

I sit here, shattered, spirit deflated,  

In a room where shadows and memories mated.  

My heart, once buoyant, now sinks in despair,  

For a love so pure, it seems wildly unfair.

She, the tempest, my soul's fervent plea,  

Tried to cage me with bars, yet I yearn to be free.  

To love her was effortless, as natural as breath,  

Yet she danced with the idea of my societal death.

I've aimed to hate, to let anger ignite,  

But my heart refuses, it clings to her tight.  

In the darkness, I whisper to the stars above,  

I hope she's wrapped in warmth, in the arms of love.

I wish her joy, not the shadows of my pain,  

For to dim her light would be my heart's bane.  

Let her be merry, let her laughter ring,  

Even if it means my own heart's suffering.

I'm a prisoner of a love unreciprocated,  

In this cell, my heart's hope has never faded.  

Though she sought to chain me in despair,  

I breathe for her wellbeing, her happiness my prayer.

So here I remain, in love's cruel jest,  

A warrior defeated, yet unwilling to rest.  

For in the depths of love's relentless fire,  

Lies the truth of my unyielding, eternal desire.

Would Anyone Notice?

Beneath the shadow of a doubt he stands,  

A man accused, with clean but cuffed hands.  

Innocence his shield, truth his only sword,  

Against a fate unjustly, harshly scored.

No bars of steel can cage his spirit free,  

No walls too high to hold what cannot be.  

He stares into the void, death’s cold, bleak eye,  

Unflinching, unyielding, under the sky.

“For if they come,” he whispers to the night,  

“To cage my soul, to quench my inner light,  

Know this,” he vows, “I’ll not go alone,  

Six will bear me before twelve cast the stone.”

Incarcerated for a crime not his,  

A testament to justice gone amiss.  

Yet in his heart, a fire fiercely burns,  

For freedom’s song, for home, he yearns.

He’ll not be bound by chains, nor fate’s cruel jest,  

Within his chest beats the heart of protest.  

“Better to lie in earth, in peaceful rest,  

Than live in shame, an innocent man pressed.”

So hear the tale of a man, bold and brave,  

Who’d rather fill a free man’s grave,  

Than live a lie, in shadows just survive,  

He stands for truth, for that, he’d give his life.

Let this be heard, let it echo, let it ring,  

Of a man who wouldn’t bow to wrongful thing.  

In his story, a lesson we all find,  

The strength of will, the power of the mind.

Don't Turn Me

In a world dimly lit by the flicker of hope,  

There wanders a man, on a tightrope he copes.  

With a heart wide open, love his only plea,  

A soul yearning for a bond, longing to be free.

He sees the light in the darkest of eyes,  

Offers his coin, his shirt, under the skies.  

From his plate, he'd give his last bite,  

For anyone in need, through day or night.

Yet, the world pushes, tests his resolve,  

Trying to turn him, his patience to dissolve.  

They prod and they poke, seeking a beast,  

Ignoring the love, on his kindness they feast.

But what they forget, in their careless spree,  

Is the power of hurt, the force it can be.  

For inside this man, there's a storm they've brewed,  

A fury contained, by his goodwill subdued.

He’s begged not to turn, not to unleash the storm,  

Not to transform into something far from his norm.  

For the rage that's pent up, if ever set free,  

Would carve out a path of destruction, they'd see.

A cautionary tale, a warning to all,  

To heed kindness and love, to answer its call.  

For everyone harbors a beast within,  

Held at bay by the love, the light from within.

So, let's cherish the man who gives all he can give,  

Who sees the good in all, and for love, he lives.  

For if ever he turns, in the face of disdain,  

The world will then mourn, under his pain's reign.  

Let this be a reminder, a lesson engraved,  

Of the power of love, and the hearts it has saved.  

For in each of us, lies the potential so vast,  

To choose love and kindness, as our paths are cast.

11:54

Dear Diary (or should I call you my partner-in-crime at this point?),

It's been a hot minute since I've spilled my guts to you. I've been avoiding our little heart-to-hearts, not because I forgot you existed (how could I?), but because I've been wrestling with a beast that's a bit bigger and badder than I anticipated. This whole "embarking on a journey to mental wellness" gig sounded noble and all, but damn, I'm about ready to hang up my boots.

Here's the raw deal: I've been told this path is supposed to be enlightening, healing, and a bunch of other positive adjectives. And maybe it is, for some. But for me? It feels like I'm trying to rebuild a house that's been torn down by a twister. You know, picking up the pieces, trying to figure out which part goes where, only to realize I'm missing some pretty damn crucial bits. My family, my job, my house, my car, my pride, my hope, and last but certainly not least, my dignity. They didn't just wander off; they bolted like bats out of hell.

So, here I am, wondering why I'm even bothering. It's like showing up to a gunfight with a slingshot. Sure, I've got something to fight with, but it feels kinda inadequate when you're staring down the barrel of what you've lost. The thing is, I know I'm supposed to say that I'm finding new reasons to fight, discovering parts of myself I didn't know existed, yada yada. And maybe I will. Someday. But today? Today, I just don't see it.

So, what I'm getting at, dear diary, is that I haven't chucked the towel into the ring quite yet. Seems like I have a bit of a taste for the masochistic side of things. But, here’s the scoop - the scene’s ready, the blueprints are drawn, and every tool and trick I need is at my fingertips. Now, it's just a matter of waiting for that last push. Is it just an excuse I’m after, or maybe it's a dash of bravery? Hell, could be a bit of both.

And I do know one thing for sure. I am not going to prison. That has been taken care of. 6:00 before 12:00

Oh How I Thank You

In the quiet aftermath, where heartbreak's echoes fade,  

I pen these lines to myself, for the journey that's been made.  

For the pain that was endured, the tears that freely flowed,  

I thank her, deeply, profoundly, for the growth that she bestowed.

Thank you, for the torment, the chaos, and the strife,  

It carved my soul, shaped my essence, changed the course of my life.  

Without the fire, without the storm, I wouldn't stand here so evolved,  

Understanding love and happiness, mysteries I've since solved.

You drew a line in the sand, stark, clear, and bold,  

Taught me the contrast between warmth and cold.  

Good and evil, love and hate, in vivid display,  

Thank you for showing me the night from the day.

I've learned what love is, and what it surely is not,  

The lessons hard-earned, in battles fought.  

Happiness, now understood, in its purest, truest form,  

Emerges from the heart, serene and warm.

Thank you for the clarity, the vision now so clear,  

Of what to seek and what to avoid, what to hold near.  

You've shown me the type of woman from whom I'll always run,  

Until my last breath fades, with the setting sun.

So here's to the pain, the heartbreak, the tears,  

The tumultuous journey through those difficult years.  

For without the darkness, the light wouldn't shine so bright,  

Thank you for the lessons learned, guiding me to the light.

This ode is to myself, a reminder strong and deep,  

Of the growth, the strength gained, a harvest I'll forever keep.  

Thank you, for every scar, every wound, every ache,  

For they've sculpted me into a new form, for my own sake.

In gratitude, I stand, for the journey, harsh but fair,  

For now I know true love, happiness, and the clear air.  

Thank you, for the past, for the pain that was endured,  

It was all worth it, for the wisdom I've secured.

THE END

Life feels like it's slipped through my fingers, leaving me questioning where it all went wrong. Despite my intentions to do no harm, to love, and to be there for others, I find myself sitting here with COVID, feeling utterly alone. It's disheartening to realize that not a single person has reached out to check on me, to see if I'm okay.

Living with borderline personality disorder adds an extra layer of complexity to everything. It's not something I asked for, yet it affects every aspect of my life, including my relationships. The recent situation with my ex-girlfriend is a painful reminder of how misunderstood and isolated I can feel. Despite my genuine attempts to help her and show her love, I was met with accusations and rejection.

Being accused of stalking, when all I wanted was to do something kind, is a bitter pill to swallow. It's even harder to comprehend being ghosted after sharing a supposedly wonderful evening together. Her claims of fear feel unfounded and only serve to deepen the sense of rejection and betrayal.

It's a lonely place to be, grappling with past traumas and trying to navigate present challenges.

My heart aches with a heavy burden of failure. I've reached a point where my trust in people, in the world itself, has been shattered. I no longer believe in the inherent goodness of humanity, for it seems that deceit and cruelty reign supreme.

I find myself at odds with society, unable to conform to its norms of manipulation and degradation. I cannot bring myself to deceive or diminish others; my soul craves only love and connection. I yearn for a relationship where mutual adoration transcends the mundane, where every sunrise and sunset is a testament to our bond.

Yet, despite my fervent desires, depression clouds my every thought. It whispers relentless lies of worthlessness and despair, drowning out any flicker of hope. It feels as though my world is crumbling, and I am left waiting for the inevitable collapse, resigned to my fate.

All I long for is a semblance of stability, to fulfill my obligations and to cherish my partner with all the tenderness I possess. But in the suffocating grip of depression, even these simple aspirations feel unattainable. I am left stranded in a sea of darkness, clinging desperately to the faintest glimmer of light, praying for salvation that may never come.

As the weight of despair presses down on me, I find solace in the realization that my time on this earth is drawing to a close. And strangely, I'm okay with that. For in death, there is an end to pain, to sorrow, to the relentless torment of existence. No longer will I bear witness to the ugliness of human nature, the incessant backbiting and betrayal that plagues our world.

The thought of oblivion brings a strange comfort, a respite from the crushing loneliness and despair that have become my constant companions. In death, there is no room for rejection or sorrow, no space for the bitter sting of betrayal. I will simply cease to be, and in that cessation, find the peace that has eluded me for so long.

It's a sobering realization, to find more tranquility in the prospect of silence than in anything this world has to offer. But as the darkness closes in around me, I cling to the hope that in death, I will find the serenity that has long been denied to me in life.

I want to make something crystal clear: when my time comes, I don't want tears from family members, nor do I want any whispers of selfishness echoing in the wake of my passing. Because let's talk about selfishness for a moment.

Is selfishness preserving oneself from the torment, ridicule, isolation, and abandonment inflicted by those who claim to love you? Or is it selfish to profess love and yet turn a blind eye when that love is needed most? When depression sinks its claws in, and I find myself drowning in darkness, is it an act of love to call the authorities for a welfare check, rather than picking up the damn phone and reaching out directly?

I refuse to accept the burden of guilt for my own demise being placed squarely on my shoulders. If you truly cared, if you truly loved, you wouldn't shy away from the discomfort of acknowledging my pain. You wouldn't hide behind the convenience of bureaucracy, washing your hands clean of any responsibility.

So no, I won't tolerate tears of remorse from those who couldn't be bothered to offer a comforting word or a supportive embrace when it mattered most. My passing may bring relief from this earthly suffering, but it will also serve as a stark reminder of the profound failure of empathy and compassion in this world.

As I close the chapter on this journal, I reflect on the winding road that has led me to this moment. It's been a journey filled with both highs and lows, though I wish the balance leaned more towards the former.

In moments of happiness, writing took a backseat to the joy of being with the person I loved. Looking back now, I realize that perhaps my love was one-sided, a realization that cuts deep. I was ensnared in her web, a mere pawn in her game of manipulation and self-interest.

The irony is not lost on me. The day she landed that job at the airport, she vanished without a trace, as if she had suddenly ascended to some higher plane of existence. But if her happiness came at the cost of my own suffering, then so be it. I'll gladly carry the weight of sorrow to my grave if it means she finds her bliss.

So as I bid farewell to these pages, I do so with a bittersweet acceptance of the hand I've been dealt. My heart may be heavy with regrets and unfulfilled dreams, but I find solace in the hope that, somewhere beyond this realm of pain and disappointment, there lies a peace that has long eluded me.

Six Will Carry Me Before 12 Judge Me

Beneath the shadow of a doubt he stands,  

A man accused, with clean but cuffed hands.  

Innocence his shield, truth his only sword,  

Against a fate unjustly, harshly scored.

No bars of steel can cage his spirit free,  

No walls too high to hold what cannot be.  

He stares into the void, death’s cold, bleak eye,  

Unflinching, unyielding, under the sky.

“For if they come,” he whispers to the night,  

“To cage my soul, to quench my inner light,  

Know this,” he vows, “I’ll not go alone,  

Six will bear me before twelve cast the stone.”

Incarcerated for a crime not his,  

A testament to justice gone amiss.  

Yet in his heart, a fire fiercely burns,  

For freedom’s song, for home, he yearns.

He’ll not be bound by chains, nor fate’s cruel jest,  

Within his chest beats the heart of protest.  

“Better to lie in earth, in peaceful rest,  

Than live in shame, an innocent man pressed.”

So hear the tale of a man, bold and brave,  

Who’d rather fill a free man’s grave,  

Than live a lie, in shadows just survive,  

He stands for truth, for that, he’d give his life.

Let this be heard, let it echo, let it ring,  

Of a man who wouldn’t bow to wrongful thing.  

In his story, a lesson we all find,  

The strength of will, the power of the mind.

To Whom It May Concern,

To Whom It May Concern,

I feel compelled to provide a detailed account of the circumstances surrounding my relationship with my ex, as well as the subsequent accusations made against me, out of concern for my safety and reputation.

Our relationship began innocently enough, but it quickly took a tumultuous turn when my ex approached me with a proposition. She suggested that I marry her mother for immigration purposes, with the offer accompanied by the tempting allure of a brand new Harley-Davidson motorcycle. However, upon closer examination of the legal implications and ethical considerations, I promptly declined to participate in what appeared to be a fraudulent arrangement.

Following my refusal, tensions escalated within the relationship. My ex's fidelity came into question when it was discovered that she engaged in infidelity with an individual named Quinton, an employee at Amazon. The betrayal left me understandably distraught, as we had been making plans for a future together, including the prospect of starting a family.

Subsequently, false allegations of domestic abuse surfaced, with my ex accusing me of physically assaulting her. These accusations are categorically untrue and unsubstantiated by any credible evidence. On the contrary, I possess recordings of my ex herself admitting that these claims were fabricated as an act of retaliation for perceived transgressions on my part, including an alleged breach of privacy and a baseless accusation of theft.

Furthermore, my ex issued a menacing threat against my well-being, warning that any disclosure of our tumultuous relationship would result in dire consequences for me. Despite the gravity of her words, I initially dismissed them as empty threats, only to later realize the extent of her vindictiveness and manipulative behavior.

In an effort to defend my innocence and rectify the situation, I have diligently reached out to various law enforcement agencies and regulatory bodies, including but not limited to the police departments in Arlington and Fort Worth, the Tarrant County Sheriff's Office, Immigration authorities, and the Department of Homeland Security. Regrettably, my pleas for assistance and intervention have thus far fallen on deaf ears, exacerbating my sense of vulnerability and isolation.

Additionally, I was unjustly arrested for stalking, a charge based on false allegations concocted by my ex. The ordeal has been financially devastating, as I had to spend $3,500 to secure bail and now face the prospect of losing my job and apartment. Despite my attempts to cooperate with law enforcement, including multiple attempts to reach out to the detective assigned to my case, I have been met with indifference and falsehoods. It has come to my attention that the detective falsely claimed that I did not return any calls or attempt to reach her, a statement contradicted by phone records that attest to my persistent efforts to seek resolution and justice.

Moreover, I have meticulously compiled a comprehensive dossier of evidence, including documentation of my ex's psychiatric history, her involvement in illicit activities such as prostitution, financial records, and corroborating witness statements. These materials serve as a testament to the veracity of my claims and refute any attempts to malign my character or tarnish my reputation.

In conclusion, I implore those in positions of authority and influence to conduct a thorough and impartial investigation into the allegations leveled against me. Justice demands that the truth be uncovered, and my integrity be vindicated. Failure to do so not only jeopardizes my safety and well-being but also undermines the credibility of our legal system and the principles of fairness and equity upon which it is founded.

Sincerely,

Curtis A Wheat

My Eulogy

Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here not to mourn but to celebrate the extraordinary, the incomparable, the occasionally grumpy, but always unforgettable Curtis. Born on a day when the stars must've been in a particularly cheeky alignment, our man embarked on a journey that was anything but ordinary. 

Curtis, a proud Army vet, had more layers than an onion wearing a winter coat. He was a man who could out-stubborn a mule, yet his heart was larger than his biceps—and let me tell you, those were not small. A warrior, a protector, and on occasion, a pain in our collective asses, but our lives were infinitely richer with him in them.

Let's not skirt around the fact that Curtis had his struggles—BPD and depression were his uninvited, persistent companions. But, like the true soldier he was, he faced them head-on, with the courage that made him a hero in more ways than one. He taught us the power of resilience, the importance of fighting our battles, and the art of cracking a joke when the going gets tough.

Our dear Curtis was a connoisseur of life's absurdities. He could find humor in the darkest corners, often leaving us in stitches. His laughter was infectious, his sarcasm razor-sharp, and his ability to lighten the mood was unmatched. A philosopher in his own right, he had the uncanny ability to dispense wisdom that was as profound as it was unexpected.

But let's not forget, Curtis was also a man of mystery. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he'd surprise you. Maybe it was his knack for suddenly becoming the life of the party or his unexpected acts of kindness. He had a way of leaving a mark on your heart, whether it was with a thoughtful gesture, a listening ear, or a perfectly timed "asshole."

To Curtis, life was an adventure to be embraced, a battle to be fought with honor, and a joke to be shared among friends. He lived with passion, loved with his whole heart, and fought bravely, both in uniform and against the adversaries within.

So, here's to Curtis, a man who was as complex as he was charismatic, as challenging as he was cherished. May we remember him not just for the battles he fought, but for the laughter he brought into our lives, the lessons he taught us, and the immense love he shared.

As we say our goodbyes, let's raise a glass to Curtis. May we meet again, asshole, in that great big mess hall in the sky, where the drinks are on the house, the laughter never ends, and the love is eternal.

My Mistress

In the depths of mundane days, I seek,

A mistress to unveil the sensuous mystique.

From the shadows of routine, I yearn to break free,

And taste the allure of true sensuality.

No longer content with the ordinary and plain,

I crave a muse to ignite passion's flame.

To pull me from the doldrums, into the sublime,

Where every touch, every whisper, is a rhyme.

In her eyes, I'll find the secrets untold,

As she guides me through desires bold.

She'll unravel the layers, unmask the disguise,

Revealing the essence of passion that lies.

Oh, mistress divine, where do you hide?

In the depths of desire, or on the winds that glide?

I search for you fervently, in every shadow and glimmer,

To awaken my soul and make my senses shimmer.

Lead me, my mistress, through the manami's haze,

And show me the beauty of passion's maze.

Together, we'll dance in ecstasy's embrace,

As you teach me the art of sensuality's grace.

Where Are You?

Where are you? Why do you remain a whisper in the wind, a phantom in the night? I've stumbled through life, grasping at echoes of love, only to find emptiness in their wake.

I thought I found solace in fleeting embraces, in words that promised eternity but delivered only echoes. Each time I dared to hope, the illusion shattered, leaving me more broken than before.

But amidst the wreckage of my heart, a glimmer of longing remains. For I yearn not for falsehoods, but for the genuine warmth of a love that knows no bounds.

I dream of a love that weaves itself into the fabric of my existence, a love that is as constant as the beating of my heart. I ache for the touch of a hand that promises forever, for lips that speak truth in a world of lies.

Why do you elude me, my elusive muse? Have I not traversed the depths of despair, searching for you in every corner of my soul? Have I not shed enough tears to fill an ocean, pleading for your presence in my life?

But even as I stand on the precipice of despair, I refuse to surrender to the darkness. For I believe, with every fiber of my being, that somewhere out there, you await me, just as I await you.

So let us not lose faith, my love. Let us hold onto hope, even in the face of uncertainty. For I know that when our paths finally converge, it will be a meeting of souls destined to intertwine for all eternity.

Until that day comes, I will wait. With open arms and a heart overflowing with love, I will wait for you, my one true love. For in you, I find solace. In you, I find home.

The Hunger

In every dawn's soft, whispered light,

I find you in my thoughts so bright.

Almost every waking hour, it's true,

My mind, my heart, yearns just for you.

More than the desert craves the rain,

More than the night yearns for day to gain,

My soul, it hungers deep and vast,

For you, my love, from first to last.

Not food nor drink can quench this need,

It's you alone that my heart feeds.

Like rivers flow to meet the sea,

So does my spirit reach for thee.

Through every moment, dark and light,

In crowded day or lonely night,

Your presence is my guiding star,

Close in soul, though miles afar.

Your laughter, a melody so sweet,

In memory, our moments meet.

Your touch, a warmth in winter's cold,

Your love, a story yet untold.

This hunger, deep, it does not wane,

But grows with each day, again and again.

A craving no feast could ever sate,

For you, my love, I willingly wait.

So know this truth, let it be clear,

My love for you, ever near.

In every breath, in every sigh,

For you, my love, until I die.

In The Shadows

In a sea of voices loud and clear,  

Sits a man, alone, though people are near.  

Silent screams in his throat, tightly bound,  

A ship in a storm, by waves he's surround.

Trauma his shadow, since he was a boy,  

Stole his laughs, his peace, his joy.  

A child once, with eyes so wide,  

Now just a shell, with everything to hide.

Teenage years brought storms, not dances,  

Lost chances, sideways glances.  

A young man, too, with dreams so bright,  

Watched them fade, into the night.

Now older, his scars like medals worn,  

Each one a battle, his spirit torn.  

Yet here he sits, among the crowd,  

His voice still lost, his head is bowed.

But let's not end on notes so dire,  

For even in darkness, there's a fire.  

A spark within, that never dies,  

Waiting for winds, to help it rise.

So here's to the man, in the crowd, so quiet,  

Bearing his burdens, his internal riot.  

May he find his voice, though the journey is long,  

In the silence, discover his song.

My Journey

In a world where the glitter outshines the gold,  

A man stood tall, or so I'm told,  

With eyes that sought beyond the fold,  

For something real, a hand to hold.

He threw away the clutter, the needless greed,  

The stuff that we're told we absolutely need,  

A life of simplicity, his newfound creed,  

But deep within, a singular seed.

No towering stacks of green paper thin,  

Could quench the thirst that raged within,  

Not lavish feasts nor bottles of gin,  

Could fill the void, the silent din.

His heart, a desert, parched and wide,  

Searched for love, an elusive tide,  

A mirage that danced, just out of stride,  

Leaving him broken, nowhere to hide.

"Why?" he pondered, under starlit skies,  

As night's cold breath whispered soft goodbyes,  

"Is love so rare, a prize for the wise?  

Or am I flawed, in some unseen guise?"

He learned to laugh, to live, to play,  

Yet the hunger for love never swayed,  

An ache so deep, it colored his days,  

A puzzle missing a piece, always.

The world spun on, indifferent, vast,  

His quest for love, into the shadows cast,  

A man who sought not wealth amassed,  

But a simple connection, to hold fast.

So here's to the man who dared to eschew,  

The material, the vain, the false, the untrue,  

His journey for love, through and through,  

A quest not for many, but for the few.

My Punishment

In this realm of shadows where deceptions breed,  

I stood accused, her plot sowed the seed.  

She claimed I was the storm in her calm,  

A lie so cruel, it lost its charm.

She stacked the decks, played her hand with glee,  

A game where I was blind, but now I see.  

"I hurt her?" No, but the accusation was cast,  

A future tainted, a shadow vast.

The truth emerged from behind her mask,  

Admitting her deceit, a daunting task.  

"It was just to punish you," she confessed,  

Her words, a dagger, left me distressed.

The real torment wasn't in chains or bars,  

But in the betrayal, under the stars.  

She was my love, my soon-to-be wife,  

Yet she chose to cut me out of her life.

My punishment lies in the love I lost,  

In her arms, another's lines crossed.  

While she planned our wedding, dressed in white,  

She lay with another, extinguishing our light.

This agony isn't in the might-have-beens,  

Or in the dreams swallowed by sins.  

It's in the knowledge of her deceit,  

In the echoes of her retreat.

Yet, from this abyss, I find my rise,  

Not in hatred, but in being wise.  

Her punishment, a self-made cage,  

Mine, to turn this pain into sage.

So here I stand, amidst the ruins, reborn,  

No longer her pawn, no longer forlorn.  

For in my heart, a new dawn breaks,  

A stronger self, from all my aches.

It Slipped Away

In a quiet room, where shadows play and dart,

Dwells a man with an ever-aching heart,

Four jewels once his, so vibrant and smart,

And a wife, his soul's counterpart.

They danced around him, a symphony of delight,

Laughter and whispers, from morning to night,

But he, blind to the glow, the luminous light,

Only saw their brilliance as they took flight.

He was a king, in a castle of sand,

Not seeing the treasure, slipping from his hand,

A garden of Eden, yet he couldn't understand,

Till winter came, with its cold, harsh reprimand.

Now, silence is his companion, a faithful guide,

In the vast emptiness where his regrets reside,

A stark reminder of the love that died,

The joy he ignored, now a chasm wide.

He sits, a statue of remorse and rue,

In the solitude that he thought he knew,

But this silence is different, bitter, askew,

A lesson learned too late, a truth that grew.

Once, joy was a concept, a distant dream,

Something he brushed aside, a trivial theme,

But now, its absence cuts through, a relentless beam,

A constant echo in his soul's silent scream.

His children, his stars, now galaxies away,

Their laughter, a memory fading into gray,

And his wife, the moon, who once swayed,

In his nights, now a light that's led astray.

He knows now, what joy is not, a cruel tutor,

In the absence of love, life's bitter suitor,

A wisdom gained in the hush, all the sharper,

For the beauty missed, in his heart's quiet mutter.

So he lives, day by day, in his sorrow's clutch,

A man who once had everything, but not much,

A cautionary tale, of how one can touch,

The very essence of joy, yet not know as such.

But even in despair, a glimmer, faint and slight,

A hope that maybe, beyond the endless night,

Lies a dawn, a chance to make things right,

To find joy again, in the love that took flight.

For even a heart, once lost in its plight,

Can learn from the shadows, to seek out the light,

To cherish each moment, to hold them tight,

And find in the pain, a future bright.

that's right. just throw me in jail

Well, journal, it seems I've found myself in quite the predicament. Getting arrested for felony stalking pis not how I expected things to go. It's almost like life is throwing me a curveball, but hey, at least I'm safe for now. Well at least I thought I was safe. At least it's the time being, but I get home face with an eviction notice because I was arrested for domestic violence. Where did that ever come from? I've never hurt anyone so now I lose my home. And people have to question all the time why I'm suicidal?

In a world where words can be wielded like weapons, I find myself reflecting on a recent turmoil that has deeply affected me. Despite my efforts to clarify my stance online, it seems my intentions were misconstrued, leading to a cascade of unwarranted threats against my person. The irony of the situation does not escape me: I, who have never harbored a thought of harm towards her, now find myself on the receiving end of dire warnings.

The incident that remains vivid in my mind is a confrontation that felt more like an ultimatum. She looked me in the eye, her gaze piercing through me, as she uttered a threat that chilled me to the bone. The gravity of her words, implying death if certain information were to be exposed, has haunted me ever since. This, coupled with the barrage of death threats that have followed, has pushed me into a corner I never anticipated.

In search of protection, I reached out to every conceivable authority: immigration, Homeland Security, and the local law enforcement in Fort Worth, Tarrant County. My calls for help, however, have echoed unanswered. It's a daunting realization, the feeling of being abandoned by the systems in place to protect us.

The weight of her words about her family's political influence lingers heavily on my mind. It's a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, overshadowing my own contributions and sacrifices. Whether it was serving my country or my efforts to support my community—feeding the homeless, providing warmth on cold nights, or quenching the thirst of those in the summer heat—my actions now seem inconsequential in the face of such political leverage.

This ordeal has left me questioning the value placed on individual lives and deeds. Why is it that when I, who have given so much, ask for help, I find none? It's a paradox that challenges my understanding of justice and community support.

As I navigate through this storm, I'm left pondering the outcome. Despite the threats and the uncertainty, I remain steadfast in my resolve. The journey has been harrowing, but it has not dampened my spirit. I continue to seek clarity and resolution, hoping for a day when the truth prevails, and my efforts to contribute positively to society are recognized rather than overshadowed by unfounded threats and political maneuvers.