If this is a hostage situation,
of being held for ransom, please do not pay anyone.
As I have survived thus far in this over-alone desolance of keep,
for the last 3-4 years with intermittent congegal visits from my husband.
In the bides of learn here, where a woman has no option
but to return to the house after a shopping journey
or face homelessness, they riders of this call and over pointae,
may continue the claim of..she appears alive and well.
Food and housing and substances of utilities rallying with internet activity.
As my husband derelicted away from helping me learn french,
I am further impositioned, as estranged here.
Into the wonders of if he has crueled over the years via huntingtons disease,
or other strange character ruinments.
We can gather back to dents in the little pickup truck,
or chairs thrown, to proof-wicken the begins, if that is needed.,
yet the ease of calling it a disease as the perpetrator of
cruelities allow is a wronged pandora.
A pandora to last this timeage, of abusive intakes,
with allowed-in frights and fraughts else,
where others persecute with indifference and
attain allied backages to his man as a necessity,
that seem to honor his hateful cruels to me as an allow.
A find in there with those persons as accessories
to the crimes of my abusive situation.
A disease? mr. violence. a disease.
He appears overquieted now,
and I extraordinarily miss the man who knew a temper of before.
To which humans overquieted him into aphasiatic symptoms,
that is an inquest into...
As the change of character happened too quickly,
leading into brutalities or bruskness with men of disgallent means.
If the return explainae, is to a disease of a heredity,
a disease that uses temper as its number one place of spectra known,
then it appears an official obfuscation that clouds the mirror of my life,
and entertains into...
"there is nothing we can do".
Before we shake our heads slowly with that demand as the answer,
the septor of a ride through the myriants of other reasons cry to be heard
and challenge as the primary affectionado of the true reason.
All-in-all the intos of information,
informed of this situation are caught into its web of deceitful questions
... of what happened?
running into their minds, also.
The obsurity of truth denies a pleasure state to exist.
Hypering into a higher beta frequency state.
Please, deter from the obsessant ocd thought ritual of possible circumstances,
and ease into as I have done,
and recall it into only a soap opera moment possible situation,
to supplice with humour,
as it has become so stupidly tethering into that dominia of re-question,
that it attempts to reinjure into those thoughts of wonder,
where the wonderments become an obsessant thought obligatory.
I personally call it a torture method, upon a person, and others,
and deniers of that word "torture" in my circumstance,
calling it into as an overreaction,
will be called upon to instate a proof otherwise.
It simplifies into being an owner over a woman,
and a re-regulation to live as her mother before did.
An available woman, pretty much to her divorced husband only,
with a trickle of money to gift the adult children new bedding,
and just enough to go to university. in those earlier years.
Is this embarrassing? is that the reason I am quieted here.
getting dicey...
the know of men who treated women as captive slaves throughout life,
living on edges of money, pitiances of allowable sexual experiences,
only to live as a dependent forever, and incapable of getting away.
getting dicey...
Is my writing unprofessional? are the biographies too desparic?
.....
3 months rent hold, in savings my mother could never obtain.
The cruel rectory of official parent of mine,
insured she could never escape that experience of his ownership.
Any job she entered into he would have interrupted its earn,
as he did when she was switchboard operator,
and she idled time after to look at the pretty dresses with me,
at I Magnins, Little Daisy and others.
The jealousy of her new belt purchases,
and the new work of that communication time switcher was over.
Back to the bicycle and stagnate as lookiloos
into the shop windows again.
I return to the messenger who gavels upon that day,
and ousts a woman and quickly parts the husband
from her officially, only to know a decreed amount of dicta,
stopped at that income of financial basis...of very little,
a beggars receipt of easy, into a upsided hat.
24 days of 3 hours each day of san francisco's morn.
To the children and her.
As that divorce day overed, when I was 13 or 14,
and an expensive restaurant spired its frail gourmand of france
as a delight to my fathers gainages.
His celebration of the day, a gift to the tidiant children and mother spent.
The heady disdainy from him to my mother and I was fropently announced to all.
That he can wear the balls of man and slash a woman into nothing of finance before a judge and win.
The money of his work career rolled in shortly thereafter, in suddenry.
Did anyone notice that sudden.
The squanderer of before, rally chimes into a big spender.
With the occasions of cockaroach obligatory notifications,
of cruel hand-outs and toss ats,
of the currency known as greenbacks to his young daughter.
The mother had a heart attack or stroke from the experience,
with a long time of paralyzing her right arm,
and was not able to communicate financials any longer
to fare the children normal, as the father
cruelled to her so callously that a knife
would invisiate upon her just to sight with him.
The daughter ran for the crumpled up hundreds,
fifties and twenties, into the many days and months of again and again,
... upon his stairwell, in the plethera of a rich village for all to see.
Run and gather those currencies little child,
the young woman who dared to wear mascara,
and only appeared as a dedicated slut, in his presence.
As the cutsie of day,
walks an olde english sheepdog with a new bow and crimpy frump, what a hold.
What a strike, of abuse necessary, in order to obtain the vestage of appearance,
or scquather into the sewer as he wanted.
Each time the daughter knocks at the door,
in her appearance of churchlike feminine clothing,
he internals a spit at her, until the bring forth of a true day of that action.
Beggar child at the door, how hideous a remind...
the institution of a womans chain.
A killer to me my father became,
sprays of water to hose me away, are we tired now,
mr and mrs divorce court judge of decree.
As the divorces go on,
I am too certain that women have been way too easily persecuted
and re-persecuted by husbands and ex-husbands...
by the finality keep of its statement, "divorced"
far after the event judicial.
Criminalities of women continue on... phone call ownership relationships.
Bevying frail women of financial to continue in listen.
Call to it then, the then records from the phone companies,
the numeration of phone calls,
into an insanity of cruel obligation for the pity roll of a few handfuls of quietly taken change to feed the family,
to the high rise monotony event of too many months of a 20 a week,
in the solomnness of alone, from an atm, during the last years of her life.
The phone call listener and talk to a "friend" appropriation bill,
she had not sent him the babysitter bill, of his constancy in need.
The phone-a-friend forever, on a daily basis... requires payment,
where were the earns from that time spent?
phone and talk fees normally range from 1-10 a minute,
pretty sure that is over 20 a week.
24 years of phone calls every everyother day
to sometimes only once per week,
the bill is due to me, as her only daughter.
I presume that divy will accomodate my inheritance, as it is past due.
I'll list at the exacting the proportion of that amount due.
of approx. 480 thousand.
-----------------------------
reactive? who allowed this discourteous behaviour to occur.
patently a wrong, without a summons therein pointed at
the individual who was at the time spending her into a waste.
-----------------------------
Call it into, it was only for a time, she usually had money in her bank account,
she was rewarded as a mother to the children. I believe that recall stampedia
attempts to remove, also the content of those non-benevolent phone calls.
Phones calls of a disturbant male, in a continuum...
to abuse a woman over her entire adult life,
through the pettiance of reminds, and allegations at her as the fault blamant,
the fail of a mother who de-successes her children,
the fail of a mother who does not work where and when he says to,
the fail of a mother to ride a chariot away into another state,
removing herself from obligations to her sons.
Into the surreptitious,
"I'm your friend also, I put some money into your bank account".
Could a woman reappropriate herself to work after, after the dominia state,
that had only septored her into...
the constancy of his ready communication or else,
into the non-payment of rents.
With only a few choices, of habitation remaining,
via jobs and careers of his choosing backing and finance begins,
or live at her mothers house, with over 4 other grown persons,
with their 1-2 daily visitors.
With all of the choices the phone calls from him, would still be there.
No way out. not ever.
What a freedom, a journey to school, she made it to a university,
let's sing and demand its voice louder everyone.
Let that be a success known.
A success person, in her forties sitting amongst the whethers of young..
lets re-sumptuate it... as a great person who succeeded.
"I even paid for her to go to school,"
... 4 wonderful children,
hiding the darent abusives
from his poverty-giving underself he speaks from later.
The little white dress:
As he ruled the domain of my childhood,
do not swift easy into conclusion... at the photo pretty,
of a white dress worn when I was 5 years old.
White princess cuted with her expensive store bought dress,
barefeet, armed with her fancy green ladies purse.
That dress was returned to the store after the photo was taken.
It was a de-existant state,
a withering of allowable righthoods to me,
that his testosteronic world lived
only to destroy my partialities of glendations towards good.
Good that is found, to live as a female child beginning,
one that could achieve a direction of betterances for human beings,
a good that aspires changes to persons and place
as she grew further into a pleasant and lovely woman state.
As my mother quietly appeared to count them daily.
year after year, the rocks out from the pinto beans,
the first few beans hit hard,
into the steel vessel of her meals-to-cook for entrapment,
where only the rocks were board sided, as gifts to my hearing.
No, not truly a verbasive-only childhood,
as she naried to entangle his anger away from walls broken,
though surely the casualty of blame at her in the non stop of it,
would be assigned there,
it was her fault entirely, as she was ofted as the only pregnant one,
the capturer of his childhood,
the obligatory reminder of a woman who trapped him...
4 children later.
A dominative male,
obstinate to a government path for assistance financial,
same-ing me here in this house of france with that similar deck of cards.
A re-remind at his flamboyant look, and this write of ...an all about him,
as the martryed destroyer of person, with no forgiveness known,
from the relative female known as daughter.
People change...in a laugh there,
as the long journeyed and trips of gas were spent,
to the police station headquarters official,
to dump the families garbage in their available dumpsters,
rather than pay the initias of waste service fees.
As the years of that attribia went on, day and night,
only what was to be the stopper?
Cameras. I believe it was finally... a divorce made there,
a divorce with the dumpsters
and the children who had to throw the fatly rolled-up sacks
into its bellies deep, while in the midst of the fears of being captured.
Cameras were erected and pointed at the bins,
and in that salutation of a childhood spent into misdeameanors unwanted,
it was finally a time divorced into an over and nevermore.
A relief, a fossil in make, that had finally pasted into an time over.
Only a quirkyness of his character says someone,...
someone beguiled by something about him.
It wasn't my mother.
No, only a refuge-iatic witness to live with,
a witness to a person without constraints,
with rights of dominative control over his children.
As the whip in the upper hallway snapped, into the pleasant bay area air.
An attack at all, a brutal beater to my mother in another way,
my mother who remained in the kitchen below,
and could only cook and clean and never stop the aggressors actions.
As the whip placed again throughout the days or nights,
as his new fun toy, the cruel lion tamer father,
and the new truth of his disgust at monarchies were announced there also,
besides the governmental hates, he had already ecrued.
Authoritation complex overload.
Deserving a prison with bars, there and then.
Bang that steelpot harder on the fourth of july,
"we were poor people." and could never ask for assistance,
as assistance would surely have taken
the fretted-out children away from the contemptual father-master,
the one who was responsible for the obligatory pays into their ownerships.
----
As the brothers disengage from love kind toward a mother,
Did she abort also?
Was that the ruiner to them, as teenage boys,
a wicked mother,
who disgraced the family with her choice to stop the decency of ...
another possible brother or sister.
Or did she only send a picture of herself naked to playboy?
what a mother of slut, then and there she was.
Walking laundry piles to the laundromat, via a red wagon,
belittled into being an impoverished mexican when she was not.
Hello, hello, family services, as we walk on,
no check granted to her...
as it would be burned in his rights to fiscality of earns fire.
The family of her parents, mormon racists, he says.
Call that one a loss,
an entire family cannot all be gallanted into that underlining, so quickly.
For she was a speciman not assigned into their choices,
and the racism he gifted as speak told to us,
over-heavied on them as persons.
Where they were not quite the henchmen
and kkk hangers of want, he seemed to continuate upon.
He was the official voice of aggravate against an evil family,
the wife was born from.
A mother who deserves nothing,
by being birthed from those type of persons.
Feeding to us, the protection of all is to keep her as a slave,
who came from a family of distinctive racist-hells only,
mormons, religion and keep.
Brownfaces, said once or twice, ahh there we go,...
that is a gift to the delivered man who relishes that family higher...
higher into a demolished state of persons.
Captured there,
keep them and her children as the racists jailed,
if only pancho villa had killed them justly, burned their village as they slept,
in order to return mexican rights and priviledges to that region.
As with that new government, a viva of enstatements and territories,
brings back the freedoms of the dehanced and impoverished mexican people.
Impoverish her over them any day.
That was my fathers mode of thought,
and denouncers can equip elsewhere to opinion,
but he really wardened us,
not as penale jailant or army barracked initia male,
but as rider of that mexican vendetta.
White thieves, from the indians to the mexicans,
white thieves, at the ready and available, ones to discredit
and disallow as persons of beautification normal.
Too bad I was the only girl,
perhaps my studdic brothers declined to notice,
the dehancement state of their younger sister.
He paid for ballet, allies with, He paid for ballet.
Though barely and recordingly less,
as my mother initiated me away into other US states,
away from him,
and his affairantly allowed predicables
of opulating newer women with his wealth,
Whethering to the floor children, did we get furniture?
As into the years away, planked us deeper into the bottom ground,
I could still dance ballet ! ..
a lucky child, with that check paid out to us,
divorce court judge, what a luck to have you around that day.
Let's slank it into the no-water stories and the penniless story state,
lets revel into those days as a richness,
from a fathers gift of the steady impoverished plate.
As my mother could only pay less, as I left to dance elsewhere,
less infricted him to her again in plenty, as the recaller stalker of her life in be.
Out of bounds, in a cabin over wintered and too far away,
what an edge known, she should have killed him in some way.
--------------
warning: to the only knew him as a nice guy.
--------------
I announce him as a lifelong practitioner of constant abuses to my mother,
as her long term defeater and active warden over her predicaments,
it was a life to journey with him only as a punished person,
a person who could only live life abnormal within his demands,
threats and particular notions of doing.
As she was death near and homeless in illness of deaths take,
he rallies a point, for letting her actually bed her body, on his sofatime couch.
Then quickly looses that point, with off to hospital,
to be over-surgeried and over-doctored, with radiation therapy archaic,
to make sure she was not getting that laser-directed spot caller.
Yeah, yeah, she died in france a month after her arrival into my hands of chance.
Did he order the whole brain radioactive methodilogy,
specifically because the new laser surgery spot,
was from my findings of research and at my request?
4 yrs. or more, decidely, with the newer device.
"No, no bloodletter, father,
I will forever call you as my mothers life-time murderer found."
When certain women are his specific extra to delete,
I am distributed into a disgust other.
Women who know of his past,
witnesses of his violent domesticity keeps.
Getting personal?
Oh yeah, in the pollutants of his lies the waters of the planet
between me and him are polluted even more.
That is the terrible of his doing,
his taint, his excremental hatred at my life
eventing into being.
At what point do you haul those kids out of there
and save the world from the inapproprias of disdainment owns.
Or was I there as a birthed baby to be the eventia gift
of a bibles horrific religious drone.
Armegedon, sodom and gomorra, evils unleashed,
deaths beyond all deaths, and a world to destroy.
Save the world,
and raise the kids as pertainent to good,
over this filth of a write,
I had to remember myself into.