#worst of all I had bus duty and the principal had to take over

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Y’all I overslept and barely made it to work on time

[astidamia]

Some -rude- “Back to school/college” considerations and tips

So....it’s that wonderful/dreadful time of the year again, yay.

I have gone back to school many times.....elementary, middle and high school and now university.

I want to share my thoughts about this time of the year and give you some tips.

We all know that we are obliged to study for a certain amount of years and that then we can choose to drop out of school, going to college and unviersity, search for a job ecc....

Some truth about school/college/university:

- you may not like going back to school: it doesn’t mean you are ungrateful or you hate learning or you’re lazy!  weather your parents are helping you or you’re paying for your education and indipendently from the fact that you may want to graduate, it doesn’t mean you have to love school/college/university life

- I have always loved school, but not going to school: 

*let’s face it, I have never been popular due to the fact I have always had very high grades and don’t look/act like a nerd (in the negative way of the term, I presonally consider myself a nerd and I’m proud of it!) 

*I have always loved to learn, but many times I have the feeling my class or professors are slowing me down or don’t teach the way I learn faster/easier

*many times the best professors are the worst people you can dream about: to make you an example, I had an excellent history of art during my 5 high school years and I learned a lot from her, I admired her, she was also very pretty but I loathed her...because she was a total bitch who hated me guts because she considered me a know-it-all that, worst of all, didn’t actually act like it XD  

*the fact that I like to learn doesn’t mean I’m interested in all the subjects, but it doesn’t mean that I have to take a low grade in the classes I don’t care about either...I just consider them a waste of time and it probably shows XD  and it can mean you have to face an entire trimester/semester of subjects you have to do but probably never use in real life...not much fun.

*may times I hate my classmates: idk how it is in other countries, but here in Italy many times people come to class and chat/laugh or brag about what they already know....while you are in the front row trying to fucking listen, taking notes and learning!!!  I mean, you’re not obliged to be there, if you don’t care...stay at home you idiots!

*there are always unpleasant people in schools/colleges/universities: I have been very lucky to have never been really bullied (well, to be fair I probably would have beaten the crap out of them and won despite my Ehler-Danlos syndrom)...but assholes finds ways to be annoying even if you don’t pay them any attention....they are still like a fastidious background noise that, after a few months/years makes you say “shit, I have had enought! cannot wait to leave this place”   

*you may be stressed and tired: no matter how organized you are, there will be days during which your professors will decided to put 3-4 testes/essays/quizzes a day, because why not!  or classes will be rescheduled and cancelled or exames posticipated/anticipated fucking up your entire revision schedule and social life  ot you’ll have to wake up at a shitty hour to take the bus/train/metro to school and expecially during winter it’s not a joy or you’ll have to complete a group project on your own..not funny eh? 

*you’ll probably loose a lot of sleep over stupid or too numerous projects and unnecessary homeworks your professors will assign you: I kid you not, my parents were against unnecessary help, but they had to help me complete my homeworks during all middle school because I had 7-8 hours of lessons without pauses every day (no lunch break, I finished at 3 p.m. practically starving) and despite the fact I went to bed at middnight and woke up at 6 a.m. every fucking day I didn’t physically managed to complete them all!!! all the parents immediately complained about the workload to the principal but nothing changed and by the end of the second semester of the first year all the parents and siblings were helping us out because it was really an impossible task for a single person....not cool.

-if you go to college/university, you’ll probably have to cook/clean/wash/go grocery shopping on your own: I love those tasks per se, but they make me loose so much fucking time I could be spending studying or even resting that I surely am not hestatic at this thought...expecially considering I have an entire adult life of those task ahead of me anyway...so why be happy about that now????

Now some tips:

- guess what? you don’t have to be excited at all to go back to school!

- you don’t have to justify yourself to anyone when asked if you are excited to go back to school/university and you answer NO: even if it’s a parent or a relative, when they start lamenting, discussing ecc... just look at them dead in the eyes and say you love school, you love to learn, but you don’t like going to school or staying in that environment and that you hope things will improve when you’ll be in college/university/grad school.  it’s no one business why you don’t love going to school while you do your duty.

- always study and take good grades: not only because grades sadly define your future -even if they don’t define you at all- but because you are probably quite lazy.....you know why I have always had good grades? because I’m lazy as fuck!! no really, I’m so lazy I:

*always sit in the front row, so I don’t miss a word and don’t have to wait for others to ask stuff and borrow notes...classmates are often unreliable or worst: they enjoy seeing you fail and give you false informations!! being there suffered that

*always write down any homework/assignment becuase it’s easier than recalling them later (and I have a very good memory)

*write loads of notes with any word the professors say: you can never know what those crazy people are obsessed with and may ask you!!

*always do all the homework and take good grades: many times if you fail to produce your homework, take a low grade or fail a class, you have to take summer classes or are assigned more homework...and you think that someone as lazy as I am is willing to spend summer doing extra homework/classes when I already complain about the obigatory ones??? hahahahahah, who do you take me for?

-talk to other/older students about classes and professors to discover how they are and what they expect from students: if you understand them and what they want, it will be easier for you to take good grades : ) 

*even if your fellow students have failed the class or don’t know what the professor want, ask them how they find the class and how their exames went: you may be able to deduce what they did wrong and what the professor want 

*I accidentally discovered, talking to many very well prepared people who failed epically many times, that my Electrical engineering professor gives you bad grades and makes you repeat the exam many times if you never show up to his study to ask about the course and the exercises because he authomatically thinks you’re not interested and don’t care....my classmates haven’t understand this, but I know now what to do before his exam XD

-try to do your homework/assignments/readings as soon as you can: you have a boring class? you have a cancelled class? you have a break? you have already finished a test or being quizzed? you’re wating for the bus/your parents or have a long ride home? do homework! you have no idea how many times this saved me: I had more free time at home and I already knew stuff when I was ill for days and couldn’t study  ;)  

*despite what people say, I have always compelte the easy and for me simple tasks immediately: if you struggle with math/history/literature/physics, have to read it many times and are quite slow with the assignments and homeworks and do that firt, you may not have time to do anything else!  not smart XD

-always, always talk to your parents/guardians/siblings about you day at school, about the professors and the assignments and try to involve them in your revision times and ask them to read your essays/homeworks: I know it may sound weird, but you have no idea how many times this can come handy when the professors try to put you in shitty situations or give you the fault for a bad grade!  if your family doesn’t know anything about you, how you study or about the professors as people, they authomatically assume it’s your fault...it’s stupid, I know, but it’s true! so trust me, even if they half-listen it’s better then nothing

-if anything is going wrong at school/university, don’t simply complain, but talk to the people who can solve the problem in the most logical and calm way possible: it’s more likly they’ll take you seriously and try to fix things

-never lie: 

*seriously, never lie to your parents about grades or failing a class, better even, at the first lower or bad grade, ask for advice....if something goes really wrong and you have to repeat the class of the semester, they won’t get angry and let you in trouble because you involved them and they know you have done your best

*never lie about going to parties/sleepovers/cinema/dates ecc.... not only it’s important that someone always know what you’re doing and where, but if you prove yourself trusworthy, it’s more likely they’ll say yes another time.

-try to exercises as frequently as you can: even if it’s just walking around campus or doing a simple 10 minutes workout, just do it! it helps de-stress and keeps your body and mind healthy

-make space for me-time: I know it’s tempting to use all your “free time” to study, seeing friends or go to events, but by the time fridays rolls around you have to re-centre yourself and relax, expecially if you have to do laundry/cleaning and go to mass on sundays.

-read of watch shows you’re interested into and that may be realted to your field or are the complete opposite: you’ll learn many interesting things, relax your brain and have fun 

-find out what relaxes you: no matter what others may say, if you relax playing HALO or watching YT videos, go for it! 

-try to make the best out of any situation: 

*so let’s say you have a class you really don’t like? don’t complain, try to get as involved as you can so it may become less boring

*you don’t understand anything about a subject: go to your professor every single time it’s possible....they may have had enough of you by the end of the semester, but believe me when I say you’ll do much better in class and get a good grade anyway

*you don’t have much free time because you have to clean and cook: try to see cleaning as a gym exercise and to channel your creativity in the kitchen...it may not be what you wanted to do, but since you have to complete this taks anyway and they are time-consuming, why not?

*you don’t get along with your roommate? again, don’t look at the negative side of things: don’t complain all the time or you’ll feel worst, try to be civil to this person anyway, don’t think it’s your or his/hers fault (some people are simply incompatible), try to study at the library/café/park as much as you can and if it’s really impossible to tolerate this person, ask for a change of room explaining with calm and logical reasoning that the situation it’s driving you mad and you’re there to learn and cannot do that in such an environment

-finally, expecially if you’re in college/university, always remember: YOU’RE PAYING! now, don’t turn into a bully or get smug....but always remember that your professors are there because you pay the taxes and that if you want to change your room because you don’t like the situation or you want to complain about something wrong your landlord/landlady has done....you have every right as long as you’re polite! 

*a small example: last year a professor suddenly arrived in our only study classroom (they have assigned the other ones to researchers, damn them) and imperiously demanded us to clear it because he had to do and exam. while he went to fetch his student, I checked the classrooms booking website and saw they were all free and not booked and since it’s were the exames have to take place according to the rules, when the guy returned I told him there were many classrooms free and that, while he could use any one of them, we only had this study classroom and that maybe he could have gone somewhere else: ofc the guy got angry and tried to yell that he was a professor, so I told him that the rules of the univ stated that the professors had to book a classroom to do the exams, that he was being really rude without a reason and that I was very sorry but he was there because I payed the taxes so even his paycheck and therefore I had more rights than him, concluding that I would have preferred not to have to call the headmaster to solve the situation....guess what? the professor remaind silent for 20 seconds, apologized and went away. I didn’t yell, I wasn’t rude, but sure as hell I don’t take shit from anyone!

I hope some of these tips will be useful and I wish you all a wonderful back to school season! ; )

[resmarted]

we are eight years old when we have our first lovers’ quarrel. for being second graders, we are very darla and alfalfa, sitting together in the sandbox during our recess period because it is considered something for little kids and we are supposed to be too old for it now. we aren’t. it’s the only place we can seem to be alone, and that’s where all the trouble starts. my friends are sick of me trading them out for a girl, and i’m never sure if their jealousy is over you or me, mainly because we are all nerds and it’s weird if anyone even talks to us let alone a girl. we talk about all kinds of stuff though. you tell me what you dreamt of the night before and i dig piles of sand for you to sculpt things out of, and then we discuss what we had for lunch earlier. we don’t eat lunch together, that’s just too much. i sit with my friends and you with yours and we both hang out by the monkey bars with all our other friends at first, but slowly migrate to the sandbox and that’s when the ooh’s and ahh’s and kissy noises start. we think nothing of it at first, but the tension builds over time. one day i can be heard from across the blacktop screaming, no you’re mean! i slam a rock down when i say it in a frustrated angst and sand blows up into your eyes. you start to cry but i drop to my knees like no no, i’m so sorry, stop. i didn’t mean to, i’m so sorry! hold still and look at me and try not to blink. you do begrudgingly and suddenly i am blowing softly into them and asking if it’s helping. it’s too late though and the teacher on yard duty has been alerted, and before we know it both of our parents have been called in and i’m being suspended and have to see a therapist about my anger issues. i keep saying i didn’t hit her, it wasn’t even on purpose, but it doesn’t matter because it was an act of aggression and now i’m a problem child. you’re too scared to say anything because your parents are there and we are all in the principal’s office and the room is swelling up with pressure, everyone’s eyes are on you. i can’t even remember what we fought about, but i think it had to do with how my friends wanted to hang out that day and i figured just this once i could throw them a bone. i’ve barely seen them since our love blossomed from being randomly paired as fingerpainting buddies. ever since we’ve been inseparable and i was just trying to be fair, you know? my parents tell me to leave you alone and yours forbid you to talk to me. the teachers all know now to keep an eye on us and everyone’s watching us now, for real. we stop talking or acknowledging each other, but we deal with it in fucked up ways, like when your friends convinced you act like you were grossed out by me or when mine would suggest i still wasn’t over you and i would respond by acting like you were just another science experiment. we both bottle our feelings up until seventh grade when we are caught holding hands and kissing at a birthday party, which causes a whole new ruckus when you’ve barely recovered from the first one years earlier. by high school you have become a really surly goth girl, nothing like you were with the abercrombie crowd you were once so loyal to. in all the unlikely scenarios to happen, i became somewhat of a jock once i learned to take my aggression out with a baseball bat and eventually football. one day during junior year i get into a fight with my cheerleader girlfriend, someone whose name you once wrote next to friends 4eva on your trapperkeeper in white-out, was supposed to be my ride that day. i hadn’t taken the school bus in years and almost decided to just walk home, but then i saw you get on. something came over me and i jumped in as soon as they were about to shut the doors. you were looking out your window in a daze, music blasting into your ears, and i walk directly to the back to slide in beside you. you don’t even notice me until the bus starts moving and the first thing you do is shoot me a very angry browed stare. i start to say something but you pull your earphones off and just go, what? i try to say how’s it going and you say no i mean what are you doing here? i say there were no other seats, but there are plenty of seats. this bus doesn’t even go anywhere near my house and we both know it. you say something really vicious like the angry little chihuahua you’ve become, something like, i didn’t know your nose could detach this far from kelly’s asshole, and i can only laugh and say that’s a good one. i’m not as smart or as witty as you, i’m actually terrified of you on most days. i ask if your parents still hate me and you scoff like, why do you even care? i care. i have always cared. i’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you as far as they’re concerned, and you laugh like yeah that makes three of us. i follow you out to your stop and you look at me like i’m a crazy person before calmly walking ahead. and maybe i am a crazy person, this is a crazy person thing to do, i live nowhere near you and was banned from your life years ago. but here i am chasing after you like it’s another game of tag, except i’m following you home, uninvited and unperplexed. i just want to know why you hate me, or that’s what i say anyway. i want to know everything about you and to find a sandbox for us to dig in together and just erase all the bad parts of our impalpable history. i want to see what’s under your black nylons and what your tiny hand with the chipped black nails would look like in my beast paw. you turn around and say that you don’t hate me, in this way like i’m supposed to know. you grasp at your forehead in this frustrated way like you’re trying to explain where babies come from to a child, and these little wisps of bangs fly out from under a black beanie in the process. look i know your dad doesn’t like me and i’m not the wholesome image of the strapping young man that he expects to be in your life but, and you stop me. what? since when do you want to be in my life? ever since you let kelly give you a blowie at the spring formal you two have been inseparable. i look at you like i’m surprised you even know anything about me, and i am. look, i know kelly was your friend, and you let out a loud scream-grunt into the air. the fucked up part is that i only started talking to kelly in hopes it would get me closer to you, that maybe she would bring you up in conversation and give me hints about your life and who you are. all she did was complain and soon the friendship crumbled and after losing all hope i settled for a vapid drama queen that was just someone to kill time with. i can see your black lace bra through your white blouse, and you’ve got this black sweater and these black boots and i want to know why you’ve drained yourself of color but can’t stop staring at the way your mouth moves and how hard your stare is when you rant at me. i don’t even know what you’re saying anymore and the whole world stops when i lean in to kiss you and you grab onto my face, clawing like the little black cat that you are, and kissing me back with a force i have never felt before. you pull back and smack the shit out of me, my face beating red when you go there, is that what you wanted? we’re in a quiet suburb and everyone is inside watch tv when i drop to my knees in the middle of the street and say yes, and a million more, it’s worth every slap to me. you sneak me into your backyard and the garden your mother grew protects us from being seen when i taste you until midnight and your fingernails clench into the soil. you wear your same goth clothes the next day to school but with my letterman jacket and everyone oohs and ahhs. someone makes a shitty comment about how i’m trading a barbie like kelly for dracula’s daughter and i nearly go postal, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the nearest locker. i ask him to repeat what he said and he gives me that shit eating grin that i hate so i grab him by the throat. it isn’t until i hear your little voice speak up beside me like, please don’t. and so i don’t. i let him go and walk away, grabbing your hand with proudest posture. we eat lunch together alone and everyone around us gossips about it the same way they’ve done time and time again. i don’t give any fucks. you give a few fucks, but your shyness is slowly replaced with a flirtatious kind of vibrancy. we make out on the steps outside the library, my grabby hands and your thighs, god those thighs. you have been my forbidden lover since the beginning of time now and all i want to do is to feel and squeeze and touch and grab and god don’t go yet, i haven’t even felt up your boobs, your blouse still has all the buttons done. you start going to my games and i go to concerts with you for bands with names like fragile monsters and fully loaded impostors, and we manage to keep it from your parents for an entire year. when they find out, they’re too tired to even be mad about it at this point. in a surprising twist they see you as someone who is adult enough to make her own decisions and there must be something drawing us back together again and again like this. i actually end up becoming friends with your dad, the most sensational part of all. he’s glad that i got you to open up more to color again and i don’t tell him that i actually love when you dress like the craft and that is basically a form of lingerie at this point, because i don’t want to give the guy a heart attack. same goes for when he asks about the scratch mark on my face, i play it off as something that happened at practice but really i just don’t want to be like actually i was eating your daughter’s pussy so good that in a euphoric spasm it made her involuntarily claw half my face off and i fucking loved it. i fucking love you.

[ecotone99]

[SF] Disgraced Soldier or Manchurian Candidate?

I’m gonna be Frank, this sounds crazy, even to me, and I have been diagnosed bipolar one. I met this guy in Three west. Three west is a fancy military psych ward. This isn’t from my disorder but it’s in his memory and He don’t know why, so I am gonna share it here for him. I will share it, as a sci fi short story none of you would ever believe to be true.

The morning of February 14, 2004, Valentine’s Day, Valerian’s Birthday, the day T never expected to destroy his life. T was so excited, it was the day he finally got to respond for his worst day ever. The morning of September 11, 2001, T was on his way to school with his then crush Xan. Xan was so cute, she was wearing blue jeans and a cute tight white shirt and T was just so happy she had agreed to ride to school with him, finally. He was making a turn in his 1981 Carolla hatch, ugly white with even uglier wheels, no sound system or stereo, and power steering that didn’t always like to work.

The car decided that at this moment, that last problem would make an appearance, and the CD player between him and Xan also decided to skip. T, being a stupid 16 year old, reaches for the CD player with one hand while attempting to turn with the other and stare at Xan. The steering wheel stops turning smoothly and the car careens into a mailbox, sending glass and debris all over Xan. The car then slides across the road into the ditch on the other side slamming onto its side. T, being a super tough strong Jock, opens his driver door, slams the car back onto its tires, peels out of the ditch and drops Xan off at her dumb blonde friends driveway to catch the bus. By the time he gets to school the first tower had already fallen. He had gone home to get cleaned up and tell his mom what had occurred, they had no Tv in their house so T didn’t get the news until he walked into that hushed class.

The class was glued to the Tv. The smoke billowing from the towers rubble. Seconds later the news came, the pentagon had been hit. T’s father was currently working in DC. He ran out of the class room. He had to get home, he ran past teachers, security, and the principal, hopped in his beat up car with its crushed windshield and sped home.

That memory was what fueled T’s rage, his hate, his menace, for years while he lashed out at the system that wasn’t doing enough. He wrote report after report, got F after F for topic and subject not quality of research or production of point but he didn’t care anymore. He knew what he had to do. His Grand Father was in the Air Force in WW2 and he was gonna do the same. He just didn’t realize how closely that would occur till today.

As he cleared his head of the past, and looked at the next few steps too his future, T hugged his mom and his friend Valerian goodbye. No one else has found the time to come see him off. That Valentine’s Day would forever burn in his mind as his last day of civility. He spent basic training at the top of his class in all fields and even tested for SOCOM but decided the academy was his route. After technical training he was sent to his first duty station. This is where the story really begins.

T arrived in Alaska, the final duty station of his Grandfather as an Airman, his first. His grandfather had served as a bomber pilot in the 3rd Operations Group, Bombardment Group during WW2. He was so excited, he was going to make his father, and grandfather proud. The night his mother left is when the things started to get, weird. Today, T maintains that he has two memories of the events that occurred following July 17, 2004 and November 18, 2004.

To make matters worse T has been unable to find his official personnel file, DD-214, or Medical records since his discharge and transfer from Alaska back to VA. He has made several requests for the information. His pay stubs are missing, his GI bill payments come back as unfunded, his copy of his medical records mysteriously disappeared from his home along with his copy of his DD-214. He has odd dental work and a strange circular embellishment on his right cranium. No doctor will give him an x-Ray or cat scan even after being offered cash upfront as payment. He has been hospitalized forcibly twice as a civilian without reason and once as an airman. This poor man has been through it all.

In October of 2004 T is charged with heinous crimes as well as undergoes a testicular amputation preparation course, by November he is opened up and the testicle is removed. The first real memory he can describe is waking from that event. Everything between the night of July 18, 2004 and November 18, 2004 are described as “one memory is a picture with sound, and the other, a full on movie.” This will try to put together, in the best way possible, the duality of T’s memory from those times.

————

July 17, 2004

I am at a gas station with K. Two girls are broken down. I help them get their truck started by banging on the starter while K turns the key. I haven’t found out yet K is part of my soon to be Unit on Elmendorf. K and I drink all night with Athena and Shannon. K takes me back to the hotel my mom and I are staying at before I have to report for duty tomorrow. I call my brother at 0100 to freak out about the sun going down and coming up in the same freaking place. I pass out in the bed next to my mom.

July 18 2004

I report to Munitions Storage as ordered and meet up with White and K. K and I spend the morning meeting the airmen and getting accustomed to life at storage. Around 1300 we are sent to the FTAC.I remember falling asleep in a briefing from OsI at the FTAC center and waking up to be told I have been picked to leave in support of operation enduring freedom as part of TF Olympia. I get up and head to the deployment center and get my gear and am on a plane headed for Kuwait by 1800.

I also remember a picture of Athena and my watch saying 1800, a bottle of Soco 100, and a military ID that says she is 17 as we are driving onto base.

July 19 -27 2004

No picture memories of these dates but vivid video of loading and unloading Mk 82 pallets on a C-7 in Okinawa and Hawaii. Then heading to SK.

July 28 2004

Some where near the DMZ, I encounter my first live fire experience as NK forces attempt to over run a small OP we are restocking. My 7.5 ton truck is clearly stuck in a mud pit as I attempt to turn around. We were delivering T rounds for their MGs and mortar rounds. The SK forces cleared us out the mud quickly and we were back on our way. Picture memory of a strip club and a Quarters Order breech claim by an unknown Airman. Picture of me standing in front of a commander in FTAC being yelled at about what I did wrong. Audio memory of being lectured and me arguing I left after midnight so I didn’t breech the quarters orders of 24 hours from three days earlier.

July 31 - Aug 23 2004

Classified orders, Task Force Olympia, Baghdad. Classified orders, Task Force Olympia, Fallujah Classified orders, Task Force Olympia, Mosul

Aug 29, 2004

Picture memory: Truck, tires, burning flesh.TF Olympia patch on the ground. Location: Mosul. Time 1800 local according wrist watch.

Picture memory: Athena and I having sex, Athena’s dependent ID saying she is 19 on my bed side. Location: Chennault Ave, Elmendorf AK. 2200 local according to bedside clock.

September - October 2004

Picture memories of hospitals and briefing rooms Locations: Ramstein, Virginia, Alabama, California, Alaska

Picture memories: drunk strip clubs all the time Location: Anchorage Alaska

November 2004

Picture memories: OSI briefing rooms and hospital beds.

November 18, 2004

I remember waking up and the major telling me I may not be able to ever have children but the surgery was a success. Everything before this memory is so fuzzy. I don’t know what is real or fake. I am unable to find Athena for several months. I finally track her down, she claims we never dated and she doesn’t know who I am. Her military ID says she is 25 years old. Athena is the first and last person I remember being with and the only person I remember dating during that time. My new girlfriend Angie confirmed that Athena was indeed 25, and went to high school in Alaska with her. Athena was the child of a SF commander. ————- So as you can see by reading his own accounts, it’s a little crazy. Out of respect to the source, I am omitting some events names and ranks. He is under the impression he did something or saw something that he shouldn’t have, T is also worried he might be a sleeper. His mind is really messed up. He can recite names and dates and places that can be fact checked. That is the weirdest part to me. His facts, check out.

So, take it as a grain of salt, but this poor man’s story deserves to be told. After his testicular removal he was systemically railroaded out of the military. He ended up going before a court martial and being exonerated of all charges with prejudice against his command for unlawful command influence, but not after spending 3 months in the brig for his own safety and others. He has many memories since of words setting him off for no reason. Weird flashbacks, and strange people randomly following him places. His paranoia even heightened my own at one point while I absorbed his tale of espionage and intrigue in the early 2000s.

He has, since discharge, struggled. Most recently he has been unemployed and collecting SSdI. Another one of the little things that makes him feel weird. He got his disability without an attorney, without the need for a hearing, and without even talking to anyone. He has been committed by judges who have apologized to him and said they had no choice. He has had doctors tell him he is not medically unstable and ask him which drugs he wants to take. He has also been forcibly taken by police with no charge and no outbursts. The poor man has been beaten senseless by the system he was so anxious to serve in 2004. If you are looking for light at the end of this story, there isn’t any, he has done everything he can to find the truth, the truth has eluded him the harder he tries.

He hasn’t given up, he now runs a small recording studio. He raises a small boy. He takes care of his niece and his fathers land. He is a good man still today, just confused, lost and broken. He is incapable of trusting even the schools with his son. He is scared of the internet and terrified of public appearances or employers. The man has been totally undone by the system he once swore to protect. No help, no real answers, just tranquilizers and indifference are his reward for his scars.

His story really got to me. T was an idealistic American boy. A Boy Scout, fire fighter, EMT, and Airman. He deserves more from the society he served his whole childhood. I hope this story entertained you. I hope his misery brings you some joy, you heinous monsters. Sorry, like I said, his paranoia got to me a little too.

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