Our Backgrounds before we met...

I'm an only child born in Montana in 1983, from a divided home. Parents divorced at seven, Mom was unstable and unfaithful. Dad obtained custody of me and we moved to Oregon Coast to live with my Grandma. I had unhealthy visits and relationship with Mom thereafter. My Grandma died at 12 and at 13 my Dad remarried an alcoholic woman, I had a strained relationship with them until adulthood when she stopped drinking. I had exposure to trauma; alcoholism, mental illness, verbal abuse and juvenile troubles. I rebelled by using drugs in my late teens and early twenties, I lived on my own for a few years after high school but had little direction.

My bride is the eldest with two little brothers, parents stayed in same area of Portland during childhood with lots of family support and her parents stayed married. They had Christian values but some anger and anxiety issues at home. She was sexually assaulted at 17 and never had good closure with this. She told me her parents didn't provide her enough help with things like this growing up. Status quo was the backbone of the family dynamic, challenging emotions were discouraged. She rebelled by being reckless with herself, financially and sexually. She decided to join the Navy at 19. She lived alone briefly, but mostly with Grandparents & Parents before our marriage.

I loved how we both grew up reading Archie comics. No other girl I had ever met had that in common with me. I think we wanted a surreal life like the one in Riverdale.

2002

She and I were 19 when we first met in my home town on the coast at an arcade. We became friends and secretly liked each other. I was too nervous to ever make a move on her. We traveled together, she stayed with me, we used drugs together and drank at times. One night she drank too much and had *** with a guy I knew at a party. I was devastated by this. She was Navy bound and I didn't see a real future for us. The next morning she left and I didn't talk to her again for two years. I figured she would be gone with the Navy soon and that she must not have been interested in a relationship with me despite the time we spent together.

2003

I was depressed about this rejection. I dated an older woman who was interested in me but was no substitute. I eventually moved to the Portland area to work and live. I still had few plans and was lonely, in or out of the few brief relationships I attempted. I never found someone that I felt safe with or had a true connection, let alone true love. She ended up not following through with the Navy and continued working her way up in her job at the call center. She attended community college and dated a few guys. She dated one guy for a couple of years who was not a good match for her but stayed with him off and on despite issues. His family was wealthy and treated her well. He slept around on her as did she. At one point he gave her an STD. She also had an ongoing affair with a married man in the military that she went to high school with. He had a child and a wife with mental health issues. She was still hurting a lot at times and not always doing well.

2004

She reached out to me via email after two years of no contact. We emailed back and forth a couple times over the next few months. We talked about meeting up. We spoke on the phone and eventually met up in Portland. We had an amazing night getting to know each other again and work past the confusion of our earlier days of friendship. I realized that she did in fact like me before but since I was timid and trying to be proper and take things slowly she didn't understand my motives. She apologized for her actions at the party as well. She claimed she was in a really messed up place and was making bad choices at that time. Getting our feelings out in the open was good and she appreciated my attitude towards being slow to make moves on her when we first met. I was worried about falling for her based on our history but eventually I was determined to give it a shot. We soon after starting dating and being intimate. Our love was extremely powerful and beyond all others we had both experienced. She broke ties with other suitors and shortly after we talked about marriage and started planning a wedding for the next year.

I remember when we first held hands. We were so shakey and she was quivering on my couch as I had my arm around her. We felt so safe with each other. We could finally be ourselves and do what our hearts desired. We knew we were on to something new and so amazing. We were so patient with each other as we navigated our new love and emotional thresholds.

I remember when we saw Matisyahu in concert together. That was a once in a lifetime experience and a life-changing moment for us. I feel it set the tone for things to come in our future.

I remember how creative my proposal to her was, in the Arcade where we first met. I hid the ring in a prize container from one of those claw machines. Pretending I got the ring from inside by reaching into the machine on one knee I was so nervous and wasn't sure if I could pull it off before she caught on. She looked so shocked and surprised. I was so excited she said yes! We took pictures in the photo machine and had burgers afterwards, I'd do all of it all over again just to see her face in that moment.

2005

We found an apartment for us in Portland. I moved in while she was still living back with her parents until the wedding. She had to change her number because the married man she was previously involved with kept calling her about changing her mind about marriage and continuing their relationship. She was offered a job in Denver and we decided to move away together after our sandy wedding in Cannon Beach. I still had a very hard time and was embarrassed with my past history with her. Many of my friends knew what had happened at 19 and how much it hurt me but I was so crazy about her I think I tried to pretend it didn't happen or that it was not a big deal because we were younger. We got married and moved to Colorado soon after. We made friends at a church, I became more active as a Christian and really loved being married. We were very involved in keeping spirituality in our marriage. I began to notice her poor financial decisions and practices more. This caused conflict but we always tried to communicate and work on things.

I remember when we went down to my folks for New Year's in 2005. We sipped tea in my Datsun as we drove to the coast over the snowy mountain pass. We told them of our engagement. We were all so blissful and excited. We never knew what was to come. We didn't even know about the opportunity in Denver yet. Our story is amazing!

I remember when I wanted to go see her in Portland and the roads were iced over. I left my car at a park and ride before I caused a wreck. I took the light rail across town then rode a bus to the Eastside shopping mall. The bus to her house was not running because it wasn't safe so I walked the rest of the 4 Miles sometimes having to crawl on my hands and knees to make it up hills in the ice and then I finally made it only to just spend a couple hours with her and fall asleep on her parents couch. Her Dad drove us back the next morning to my car so I could get to work. It was all worth it just to see her for that little extra time. I would have done anything for her.

I remember when she was interviewing for the new position in Denver? I drove all over Portland trying to find little toy cars to help with her illustration about how a team is like a car having all four wheels and how they work together to accomplish a goal. I was so proud of her for giving it her all and succeeding at earning that position. Now that I think of it, that car analogy applies to our family and us. We all need each other to be better and keep on track and be a team. I am so motivated by that and our boys. I lose my way without that and I want to be her reflection and motivation as she has been that for me. I truly thought we brought out the best in each other when we were together.

I remember when we were given tickets to see Fiona Apple. That was so spontaneous and a great way to kick off our time in Denver together. We always used to watch our same movies over and over again. Like the Friends DVDs and White Christmas every winter break and The Wedding Singer. We walked everywhere and lived simply. "I wanna be the guy, who grows old with you"

I remember in our first Denver apartment when we took baths together in our claw foot tub in the big bathroom. We put a board over the top and played cards. I liked playing Uno with her in bed too. She was so funny being slightly color blind and in the dark, mixing up the greens and blues. We played Uno in Breckenridge too at that cool bed and breakfast in the fall.

2006

We had continued fun and adventure in our new home of Denver. She was doing well as a trainer for the bank and I started working in health foods. We went camping in New Mexico a couple times with friends and we both took individual trips to Oregon as well as one together for her uncle's wedding. We had marital spats on occasion but always bounced back. The issues we had seemed like part of a normal marriage and were far better than what I had grown up around. I realized that marriage was a lot of work but I was up for the task. She occasionally became aggressive throwing things at me or breaking things during conflict.  I believed I was the problem and tried to change for her in many ways. With two incomes we still had trouble making our bills at times. She had debts that I never knew about that started to catch up with us but I took care of getting them settled and we paid off her car and traded it for an older Volvo Wagon that we both loved, I even had it repainted her favorite color for a birthday gift. Overall things seemed like they were progressing in a positive way.

I remember when we saw Midnight in concert in Boulder. That was the peak of our hippy days. We were alive with pleasure in our healthy vegetarian diets and practices living in a time and place like no other. I want to be like that again. Reggae was our music. We had much in common.

2007

We really fell into our roles in our marriage and the community; church and culture, friends etc. Things seemed very balanced and appropriate for us at that time and that age (24-25). We had separate bank accounts and jobs. I had money in savings. We started the process of buying a house so we could invest in something. She became pregnant shortly after. I embraced the challenge with positive energy but we were both in for a big change. We started having more fights. I didn't have many friends and would write to old friends via social media just so I could to catch up and tell them things were going great with being married to make myself feel better than I actually did. She hated the dawn of social media and also felt isolated I'm sure. She felt I should be doing more for her and I didn't know how to do what she needed but I failed to ask a lot of the time. After one argument, she left the house. My instinct told me to look at ******* and ******* as a retaliation. I had not done this much once we were married because she always met my needs but when things were difficult between us I felt more emotionally isolated. She walked in and realized what I had been doing. She was very upset, and because she was pregnant, thought I was not attracted to her. The truth is I found her even more beautiful and in fact when I looked at ******* I tried to look at women I found less attractive than her so that I feel good about what I have. I mostly fantasized about how these women were more submissive and loving than her. That is the part I needed to feel good about and feel better about myself with because I felt very dominated and controlled. She has never forgiven me for this and I will never stop feeling sorry to her for my brokenness. During one particular argument that year she was getting close to being violent towards me again and I pushed her away on the chest with my fingertips. She got very mad and said I hurt her. I immediately felt terrible and apologized. I never let something like that happen again. I have always avoided violence towards others especially women and of course her. I was defenseless against physical and emotional abuse.

2008

Our eldest son was born at the beginning of the year, it was a traumatic birth for everyone. We wanted a natural birth with a midwife but we were transferred to a hospital and she ended up having an emergency C-section, nothing went as planned. We had a really hard time coping with the emotions of this experience. A lot of buried feelings and trauma from both of us started coming out. We moved a month later into our new home outside of town. No more walking or biking to places, we had to drive everywhere. This house was next to our friends from church. We thought this would make us feel less isolated but we didn’t really have the community with them that we had hoped for. They were upset that they didn't have a child of their own yet and being around us might have been hard for them. My wife stopped working and stayed home with our son. All these changes made for a very difficult time. I did my best to support them but this was the first time we shared a bank account and needed to follow a budget more than ever before. We had no debt at the beginning of the year with money in savings but then the hospital bills put us down about $7,000 and rising with new home and moving expenses and baby needs. My job could barely keep up. She and I had a hard time adjusting. We could not afford to travel home to Oregon and visit family as much and we felt more and more isolated. She started showing me more signs of instability, locking herself in the bathroom with kitchen knives and scraping her legs which continued off and on for years to come. Talks of divorce and suicide threats seemed to happen more than before. I felt responsible and tried to fix her ever changing issues with me.

I remember when herr ******* were full and swollen with milk. It is so beautiful the way she could feed our babies. I wanted her in every way, our bodies belonged to each other. I was there for her and our shared pleasure. I loved it when she told me that she was mine in the heat of passion. This spark could only be a bandage for so long but I didn't know that yet.

2009

I tried to promote within my company but was not selected, they were cutting budgets and employment all around me. I felt worried about our future. I had always thought the military might be a good opportunity and could move us closer to family back home. My father-in-law encouraged me to look into the Coast Guard. I felt this would be a good way to get moved closer to Oregon.  I ended up joining the Navy because we found out we were pregnant again with our second son and that was the only way I could join a military branch. She worked off and on as a nanny and later in the year at a coffee house working nights. We barely spent time together and when we did it was a lot of hard conversations or arguments about finances with making up intimately in the middle of the night between times of caring for the baby. She once scratched my neck with her fingernails during an argument. People I worked with noticed. It was a hard time and we knew change was on the horizon with jobs and moving. We did visit Oregon that summer though and had a great vacation at the beach with a borrowed 4x4 and staying at a hotel and picnicking out of a cooler as well as going to her brothers wedding. I was 26 and about to join the Navy to provide better for my family at all costs sacrificing myself for their benefit because I would have rather died than look like I didn't try my best for them.

I remember when our babies would kick and move around inside her belly. I loved laying by her and feeling her tummy. I would hum to the baby and hear them move and squirm. I loved giving our boys baths when they were babies too. We had our little bundles of our love, wrapped in a towel in our hands, so tiny and vulnerable. I miss those days and want to remember them with her, aside from this state of melancholy.

2010

The Navy recruiters would only take me if we rented out our home and had her stay with family during boot camp and training. We moved to a furnished apartment in Denver and put our things in storage. She was 5 months pregnant and our eldest was two. I shortly after was let go from my job. Our second son was born in April. I got a contract with the Navy at the last minute but didn't leave until August. We sold our beloved vehicles and lived off retirement funds for six months and moved down to Florida where her parents had just moved out of the blue for work, to stay with them until I left for boot camp. I applied for temporary work in Florida at a dozen places but had no luck in my three months there. I took care of our eldest a lot while she took care of the new baby. Being in Florida was a culture shock for us but we had our moments of romance and made the best of it. Eventually I left for boot camp in August. It was really hard and sad to be gone. She stayed in Florida and came to visit me with the baby at boot camp graduation in October. I then went to Connecticut for five months of training. It was also hard but at least I could call home every day and be in the same time zone. I visited Florida during the winter break and saw my boys and her. We went to Disney world and had a great time on her parents. We also made a romantic home movie I could enjoy while away from her. I flew back to Connecticut and tried to make the best of things. My roommate was very abusive of substances and I resisted the temptation for a long time but the threat of being submarine service bound and missing my family pushed me to drinking every weekend and getting messed up to escape before I left.

I remember when we drove to Key Largo, Florida and stopped at a crazy bird wildlife center. I remember our oldest was so amazed hearing a bird say hello back to us. It was so foreign and fun there. I am glad we all shared that experience together.

I remember our trip to the citrus grove in Florida. That was such a great day for our family. I always look back on that with really fond sentiment. I felt like I was in a beautiful family music video with them.

2011

I finished Submarine Training and got orders back to the Northwest. The plan was all coming together. I arrived first and bought a car and got our items moved from storage in Denver to our townhouse rental in Washington. She and the boys joined me a month later. I didn't report to my Sub for another month as they were at sea. She became pregnant again with our third son right after arriving. We had just bought a small car and were not planning on another child. Towards the end of the year I was working a lot and having a really hard time, being bullied and treated poorly at work plus our financial situation was still very difficult. Adjusting to the military was hard among younger men being 28. I dreaded each day in that environment but I tried to endure it for my family. I went to sea for a couple months at the end of the year stopping in Hawaii and California. During this time She reached out to her ex married affair partner after six years of no contact. She didn't tell me until later. She said she needed closure with him, we were not in counseling yet but she decided this was appropriate. I flew home early from sea and wanted to surprise her. The stress and trauma of this quick transition home after being to sea for the first time (which was also traumatic) made me want to drink and get messed up before flying. I arrived home and surprised her but I seemed off to her which I was but didn’t explain why, I have never done that since. I got to be home for two months almost work free while we celebrated the holidays and prepared for the new baby to be born. She started getting more involved with a church and building a community for us which was great. Our financial struggles almost led us to foreclosure of our home back in Colorado but by the grace of God we got it sold with a short sale just in time.

I remember when I came back from Hawaii and brought her a beaded necklace and she wore it naked with her big beautiful pregnant goddess belly and we made passionate hippy love together. I want to grow out my beard again and spend my life making hippy love and feeling free again.

2012

Our third son was born in January. It was a very positive birth experience and much less stressful than the other two. Shortly after I flew out to finish the other half of the deployment I had missed. I really focused on being positive and spiritually connected by reading my Bible at sea which was helpful. I called her when I arrived in Japan halfway through being gone. She was upset because she tested positive for an STD while trying to get on birth control. I became suspicious of her yet she was suspicious of me. We both got tested again and I was clean, she told me she had a false positive after all. This put a big strain on our trust, especially being so far away. This forced us to be honest with each other about some things such as her contact with her ex lover and my drinking to cope. We were both very upset until I returned home and we could start some counseling to work through things. Forgiveness seemed to be difficult for us. It brought up hurts of the past when we were 19. She also had severe postpartum depression that became worse after each birth. I was still having a hard time with work and the submarine environment. Our church friends tried to counsel us but it was not the most helpful. My submarine was scheduled for extended repairs and not going to sea for three years, I would be transferred before the end of that period. I used this time to bond with her and my boys. I wanted to get better involved in our community and do volunteer work and side jobs to earn extra money. Our boys were all given diagnosis's for autism which begun to fill our lives with appointments and challenges for years to come but we were a good team in dealing with all of it. It gave us something to work together on but took our focus away from working on our own personal issues and relationship with each other as much as we should have.

2013

We had new years with both sides of our family in a snowy mountain setting in Oregon. It looked like it was going to be a great year until her Grandpa passed away suddenly. It ripped our entire family apart but especially her. He kept the family grounded and she was very close to him, he really loved all of us. She and I started going on dates again because we had Navy sponsored child care. It was the beginning of a really good thing for us. Tragically one night after a date we were dancing with the boys on the patio and I tried to pick her up and I lost my balance and fell on her, breaking her collar bone severely. She needed surgery and was very mad at me for years to come. She has a scar, a metal plate and numbness in her chest. We worked through it with our community from church but she still is very mad at me. I feel more terrible about this incident than she could ever know. I would lose a finger in place of that incident if I could. I continued having a really hard time in the Navy and I didn't want to stay in but She insisted our boys needed care only the Navy could offer. She also said she would divorce me if I ever left the Navy. I took this threat seriously even though she assured me later that she would never actually do that. Against my own convictions I reenlisted because I wanted to do the best thing for my family. We moved into base housing at the end of summer and didn’t go out to do things as much anymore. The house was nice but it ****** us in, we also had less community with people around our home. I started volunteering at church more and doing work with special needs people. I felt like I was doing good things and that I had purpose all around. I think she appreciated this about me.

2014

We started seeing a professional counselor together and individually. It became a regular event. I worked on myself and she worked on herself. I had a lot of issues with my Mom and eventually broke off communication with her for my own well-being and the betterment of my family. I got past a lot of the bad feelings I had. She worked on her traumatic experiences and our relationship dynamics. Just when things were going well I got a new boss who made things hard for me and others at work and I started messing up more. I got in trouble for messing up a job at work and was given strike one on my record. She lost respect for me as a provider but I tried to stay strong showing her that I would continue to do my best.

I remember when we had an appointment in Tacoma and we had a brunch date together afterwards. She looked so beautiful that day, I took her picture and was so proud to enjoy  huevos rancheros and momosas with her. I remember going to the Tacoma Art Museum seeing the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, we have a great time together doing new things and feeding each other's interests. I loved laughing with her too, sometimes we just bust up like nobody's around. I loved the sound of her laughter. I loved watching Portlandia with her, it is so funny to remember the funny place where we became close and be able to relate together.

2015

I kept working hard and being involved with family and appointments for my boys and her. I still maintained my volunteer work and part time side jobs. I got strike two with the Navy for messing up again... I had just gained orders to leave the sub for local shore duty. I could not get out of the extended repair situation soon enough. She was very disappointed in me and not so understanding. I worked through this situation with our counselor as did she. He always told her I am a good man and that I do a lot for her and the boys. It's true, I care more than anything about them, I made mistakes and I feel bad especially when I cause my family stress. I left for shore duty in April. It was a hard time adjusting to the new routine but eventually we seemed to make it work. That summer we took a trip to visit Texas where her parents had just moved from Florida. We spent a great night together for our 10th anniversary in a hotel in Texas and went dancing. We had a lot more time together as my work schedule was less. The more people we had in our home working with our kids on issues the less useful my input seemed. I was not included as much in making family decisions because they all seemed to happen while I was at work, despite my objections. We tried to get our budget under control but she still had anxiety discussing spending. She continued to struggle with depression and was put on medication because she had still been harming herself. She was put on Prozac daily and anti anxiety medication as needed. He family members were not very supportive of medication which upset her but I always tried to be supportive in seeking help and continued care for both of us.

2016

We had a busy routine of kids in school now and home school and preschool and appointments for all of us. She wanted to go to church less and less. I started drinking a couple beers at night almost every day. I tried to mask my stress from her mood swings. She decided not to go to church at all anymore and focused teaching the boys about Jewish traditions exclusively which was hard for me to adjust to and confusing for the boys. I loved her and wanted to be supportive. As usual I was submissive and removed myself from the Christian church and some friendships. I feel like we lost our community at that point. We searched for a good place to have a new community with Jewish people but it was like starting over. I felt like I converted to Christianity for her when we got together and now I had to convert again, either way I would have done it for her because I loved her that much. The kids were confused by this change. After trying and failing at many synagogues we finally found one that seemed right for us.

2017

We finally had some money in savings because I kept it a secret and ended up planning a trip to visit her parents in Texas but it fell through due to lack of military flights. Instead we spent three nights away in a nice hotel resort as a family in February. We had three days of pure family time. Playing Battleship and other games in our room as a family, watching movies and eating at all the different restaurants and getting room service. Going swimming everyday in the foggy pool. I love our family and how we can have a great time together doing nothing but at the same time so much. That was so peaceful and relaxing. I wanted to keep doing things like that together as a family before our boys got too old. Shortly after this vacation she wanted to go back to school, then we bought a third vehicle so she could. Shortly after this she changed her mind about school and wanted to buy another house instead. I went along with it to please her and we practically killed ourselves trying to get the move accomplished with not much help or money. We had a good year over all. We got away for a romantic anniversary together in the summer. Just before the boys were going to start public school in the fall, her parents moved back to the area. She had anxiety with this and cut off contact with her parents and brothers for a while. Her Dad called me very upset and I tried to keep the peace until they reconciled. I was doing better with work and made up for lost progress as well as making arrangements to change jobs in the Navy to something more fitting. Since the boys started public school, I planned on leaving for Navy training in my new position after the beginning of the new year when they would be at a more settled place in their routine.

I remember when we went to the Olympic Club for our anniversary and we stayed there for a night away. We drove the long way through the countryside talking about new music that she wanted to share with me and she made notes of it on my phone notepad. We brought our own cooler and picnic that included Session Lagers and chocolate. We checked in to our room and made noisy bohemian love on the edge of the creaky bed in our small European room inches from the door. Then we went to the theater downstairs and watched the late showing of a really interesting Sci-fi movie "Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets". We took showers and slept sweetly together. We made love again in the morning before we had a delicious brunch outside on the patio. We took the long way home and drove around on new roads and found our way out of cell phone reception. We figured out the road less traveled to get back to our home. We loved being alone and away together, just one night can make such a difference and mean so much.

I remember going to the Forest Theater to see Tarzan with our boys. That was such a great time. I would love to get our boys into theater and go see them someday. I wanted to keep our dreams and goals together alive and not lose opportunity and fall short by losing our partnership.

I loved going camping in Seabeck. Loading the truck with all our gear and getting away. Archer got sick from the cowboy caviar and I had to clean him and the tent up in the night. I was glad we had each other to be a team in our marriage in that situation as with all the other times. These sorts of things are what escape a person's mind when they are determined to get a divorce.

2018

We had a lot less money than the year before, again buying a house took its toll on finances as did the boys school and after school activities. I stayed very involved taking the boys to appointments and sporting practices. We stopped going to synagogue but tried to practice Judaism at home as much as possible, which I was very supportive of and involved with. She was still depressed and talking about suicide at times. I encouraged her to get help as I always had. Eventually she was diagnosed as Bipolar 2 and manic depressive by a new provider. She started taking new medicine for this and was worried I would want to leave her. I assured her I would never leave her and that I always wanted to work on things with her and help her. I left for training in Mississippi February 8th. It was going to be hard but I thought it might be good to have some time apart from each other to miss one another and reflect on things as well as prepare for times when I would be away at sea. I got in trouble in Mississippi for giving junior personnel a ride and being negligent of people who might be underage and possibly drinking, this became strike three. I never thought this could happen. I became recommend for separation from the Navy shortly after and was stuck in Mississippi for six months instead of six weeks. She was supportive through most of it but seemed to fall into hopelessness. Money was spent by her that we didn't have without discussion. She quietly leased appliances and tires and purchased a vehicle as well as having a secret bank account and email address. I discovered through our insurance company that she wanted to leave our policy for divorce. I didn't know this and she had even told the boys she wanted a divorce before I even knew. I was caught off guard and confused. I kept trying to communicate and reason with her but she didn't want to talk. I refused to give up and wrote emails and a letter but it only seemed to push her away further. By the time I left Mississippi she had filed for divorce and a restraining order against me saying I was unstable and a threat. I couldn't return to my home. My whole life fell apart in just a couple months. I found out she had been talking to other men in the Navy and keeping more secrets. I assumed this was her way of taking control during a difficult situation. I really needed her support during this hard time of transition out of the military. I became homeless, jobless and without my family in a month. I prayed to God that given time things might change between us but it was of no use. Bipolar had consumed whatever was left of my bride and there was no turning back.

I felt that our love was not one to be cast away. Other people might not understand or agree but what we had was truly special. We may have surely needed some time and space to get counseling as well as reconfigure and repair our marriage but I didn't feel like our relationship was irretrievably broken. She was so important to me and I thought she was the love of my life and would always have my heart. I wanted to be her partner in love and life, watching our boys grow up and being there to support each other. Being that she is Bipolar I knew she will need a lot of help and I was more than willing to assist her in making sure she was taking care of herself and not throwing herself into harm's way, ensuring she sticks with a plan we agree to for consistency. I cared about her deeply and had much compassion for her. I didn't believe she was thinking this through or thinking about the future. I really wanted to look at the long and short game with her, neither seemed appealing to me if we progressed but here we are. Things are not going to be easier. She will still have to face her problems and deal with me on a regular basis for the rest of our lives no matter what happens. She can believe her lawyer when they promise she'll get the moon and stars out of this in the end but they only see half of the story. Above all they want our money. It would have been good for her to face me in person and tell me she wanted to divorce and we could have started talking about it with a counselor to figure out how that could even work. Instead she chose to avoid as much responsibility for her actions as possible by doing everything in my absence as if I am not a real person. I had to find out about it from our insurance company and was last to know.

Immediately after I hear the word divorce I looked into her cell usage history and find she has a new military boyfriend that she talks to 20-30 times a day. She felt she owed me no explanation for this and it was none of my business. A mature person would have let me know about this months before and I would have seen it coming but there was no sign until it was seemingly too late. She strayed down a dark path and never turned back.

Her proposed parenting plan was cruel and had no thought put into it. Two hours a week with supervision, no holidays but father's day? She said she’s not trying to keep me from the kids but this is the exact opposite of what she’s saying with the paperwork she filed. She seems very mixed up and still you continues to make rash and sudden choices. Like a completely bogus restraining order against me that contradicts so many facts she has stated herself on record during my Navy retention process. She was so bold as to want to change her identity and even put it in ink on the divorce paperwork as well to a whole new name. That is not the actions of a stable person. She has since changed her mind again on that just as quickly as everything else in her recent life choices. I can't trust that any decisions she is making right now are for the right reasons or that she is of sound mind. I have never seen her so conflicted and confused, grasping at straws and running scared from herself.

Using the legal system so carelessly and going back and forth makes me feel like she is not ready to be making big choices and changes for her and our family. It is very unfair that she can’t consider my feelings on things and what I wish for the boys as well. Very reckless behavior. She can’t anticipate that the day would come where she has to face me and talk to me like an adult. She wants to hide behind the legal system which only leaves much to be unresolved. Ghosting me is not really an option in a marriage of 13 years with children.

Having relationship conversations is too difficult for her at this time and she would rather avoid it and skip to divorce because she thinks that will somehow be easier. I suspect she knows she is making poor choices, possibly out of fear and lust for something new and less painful than the reality of things right now. Our marriage was nowhere close to divorce when I left. She was sad to see me leave and woke with me at 3:30 am to say goodbye, making me coffee and cookies for me to take with.

Our community and accountability seems to be gone due to the continued trend of isolation that she is drawn to. The God fearing loving committed wife I thought I had is gone or trapped inside a terrified shell of herself. She cut me off from her family members and I can't discuss my concerns about her with them either. She only seems to have community with those who are not going to discourage her from these destructive choices.

I understand we have had issues and struggles but we are no worse off than other couples during challenging times. I think that because we loved each other so much it just hurt more when things got hard. I can't accept or believe this is justified or the right choice based on the positive trend we were on before I left. This was the longest break we have ever had from each other and I think she just needed someone to be there more for her, no matter who it was. Time can heal all wounds and I hope that is true for our relationship as co-parents.

She still refuses to tell me about why she wanted a divorce or talk about anything beyond caring for the kids. I have fought the restraining and I can see my boys again but I am still not allowed to my home without her permission.

I have risen from the ashes in just a couple months. I rent a room from a nice couple from our old church and obtained a good paying job while I continue paying the household bills.

This is a really hard time, this difficult spell could have been a tool to better our relationship. I wanted to experience more beautiful memories with her. We had so many more beautiful memories and dreams left to create. This is what marriage looks like to me now as I lower the casket.

Since a wedding is said to be the most important day of a woman's life, some brides-to-be are prepared to bring out whatever it takes to ensure that their big day is nothing short of spectacular.

A new documentary from the UK titled 'Now How The Rich Get Hitched', a provides a glimpse into some of the world's most lavish weddings.

The programme follows the glamorous goings-on at Knightsbridge bespoke wedding boutique Caroline Castigliano, where, for most customers, money is no object.

According to Daily Mail, bridal couture queen Caroline, who lives in Surrey, has been creating breathtaking intricate gowns for 24 years, cashing in on the £10 billion global bridal market.

But while the average UK bride is said to spend around £1,000 on her dress, Caroline revealed that one client, a Saudi Arabian bride-to-be is spending £40,000 on her dream gown - the same price as the Duchess of Cambridge's Alexander McQueen dress.

Despite the eye-watering prices, the 55-year-old designer claims that for most women this is one of the most important things they will ever buy.

She said: 'They buy into the overall power of the dress. I really truly believe that since they were very young they have dreamt of this day.'

Caroline's clientele aren't just drawn from the global elite, however. One of her clients, Jordan, 23, is a hotel heiress from Durham who has spent the past year travelling 300 miles with her family for fittings for her £9,000 dress.

Jordan's gown is made from one of the most expensive silks in the world, which costs hundreds of pounds a metre.

Jordan said: 'For a girl the dress is what everyone looks for. People would rather spend more money on the dress and look perfect on the day.'

Her mother Helen, who is helping to pick up the bill, added: 'I think once you see your daughter in something so beautiful and she's so happy you do stretch that extra mile.'

At around £9,000 Jordan's dress is almost half the average budget for UK weddings, which now comes in at an astonishing £21,000, but the day itself will set her family back far more than that.

The no-expenses-spared bash is being held at one of her family's hotels and costs include the £7,000 on importing 6,000 flowers from Holland, the hire of a 20-piece brass band and a Victorian carousel to entertain guests.

Gissa, 29, an Iranian socialite, who is planning a lavish ceremony in Turkey, journeyed to Caroline's boutique just to try on veils to go with her bespoke gown, which is embroidered with 200,000 sequins and 50,000 beads - and was one of the most expensive dresses in the shop.

The bride-to-be explained that her fiance was very amenable when it came to splashing out on her dress.

He said "I know this is the most important dress that a woman is going to wear in their lifetime so if you really like it and you love it, we'll get it."'

However, some brides look further afield for their dream wedding location and one of the boutique's clients, Katie, 29, was planning her ceremony in Southern Spain.

Katie admitted that she had fine-tuned every element of her wedding right down to her proposal.

She said: 'I'm a bit of a control freak, I think I emailed [my fiance] a picture of the ring after about three weeks of dating, so subtlety isn't my finest point but he's done really well.'

Katie visited Caroline for a bespoke wedding dress costing between five and six thousand pounds that has taken five seamstresses 200 hours of sewing and 250,000 beads to complete.

Another of Caroline's client, Kashmir, revealed that she took two years off work to get married and her husband is now determined to prolong the wedding celebrations with lavish gifts.

She and her husband also paid £75,000 to commission a portrait of Kashmir sitting in a chair in her strapless lace Caroline Castigliano dress, which was then unveiled at a party in the designer's boutique.

However, as any prospective bride will know a dress does not a wedding make and any ambitious bride-to-be will enlist the help of a wedding planner, with none more knowledgeable than luxury wedding planner Bruce Russell.

Bruce caters for the most ostentatious and demanding of weddings. He said: 'If it's physically possible, we'll make it happen - it might come at a cost.

'If you've got the money and you've got the budget to spend and you want to spend a million pounds why not spend it on a wedding it is the most magical day?'

Bruce's finely tuned expertise and impeccable taste come at a cost and he revealed on the show that he takes around 20 per cent of the wedding budget as commission, which rewards him with a £30,000 pay cheque for a £150,000 wedding.

The show followed him as he took one of Caroline's clients, Erina, on a tour of London's famous luxury five-star hotel, The Savoy, as a possible venue for her dream day.

Hosting 350 guests would set her back at least £70,000 and to stay in the Royal Suite, a further £10,000 a night - although it does come with its own butler.

But the documentary revealed that for women who want to up the 'wow' factor on their big day - and have the budget - couture jeweller Andrew Prince is the man to call.

But Andrew insisted that elegance is often confused with showiness: 'Glamour has changed. It became, at one point, very shiny and that's really not glamorous that's flashy. I like opulence.'

Andrew's creations may be an indulgence but for him there is no better way to spend your money.

He said: 'It's a celebration. We can be really sort of smug and factual about it, and say "oh no one should spend the money on something more practical", but what's more fun than just having a wonderful day?'

Many couples will argue that such extravagance is a waste of money and resources for just one day, however Caroline says that these are memories to last a lifetime.

She said: 'The most important people in your life have come to attend this day. It all comes down to the same thing, it's what you want to spend money on and what matters to you and how much money you have, it's all relative.'

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide

Tag-araw na naman at tuwing sasapit ang buwan ng Marso, Abril at Mayo ay malimit pumunta sa isang hindi pamilyar na lugar ang magkakabarkadang sina Potsi, Tapsi, at Seksi.

Ang pagpunta sa baybayin o beach ay nakagawian na nilang gawin taon-taon. Ito rin ang kani-kanilang paraan upang pansamantalang makalayo sa napaka-abalang lugar sa Kamaynilaan.

"Pots, Sek, saan naman ang destinasyon natin ngayong taon? Malapit na ang holy week. Kaya dapat mayroon na tayong napagkasunduan," tanong ni Tapsi.

Tapsi ang palayaw na binigay sa kaniya ng kaniyang magulang dahil paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng tapa na may sinangag. Ang totoo niyang pangalan ay Mateo Paulo Sibucay.

Dahil dalawa lang naman silang lalaki, siya ang may pinakaguwapong mukha maliban na lamang kay Seksi na maganda dahil babae ito. Itinuturing din siyang hunk sa kanilang kompanya sa matikas na pangangatawan nito kahit hindi naman siya pumupunta sa gym.

"Perfect ang Laiya, Taps, Pots! Ano agree kayo?" namumungay ang mga mata ni Seksi nang sagutin nito ang tanong ni Tapsi.

Si Seksi, gaya ng palayaw niya ay kakikitaan naman ito ng kakaibang kaseksihan sa katawan. Malakas man itong lumamon ay hindi naman ito tumataba. Mahilig siya sa mga matatamis at paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng keyk. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Katarina Sek Javellana.

"Basta may mabibilhan ng pagkain kapag nagutom ako, okay na okay sa akin ang lugar, Taps at Sek," sagot naman ni Potsi habang may hawak-hawak na dalawang jolly hotdog sa kaniyang mga kamay.

Kulang na lamang ay mabilaukan ito dahil panay ang lamon nang lamon nito kahit may nginunguya pa sa bunganga. Siya ang mataba sa kanila pero ayaw niyang tinatawag niyang tawaging mataba. Mas gusto niya ang salitang chubby dahil cute daw ito sa pandinig niya. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Pocholo Travis Sigalado.

"Nakakahiya ka talaga, Potsi. Mabilaukan ka oy!" wika ni Tapsi.

"Heto, tissue o! Sahurin mo ang mga nahuhulog. Sayang din iyang pagkain. Alalahanin mo na maraming mga bata ang nagugutom sa kalsada," sabay abot naman ng tissue ni Seksi kay Potsi.

"Kaya nga sinisimot ko ang pagkain kasi sayang 'di ba?" ngunguso-ngusong sagot ni Potsi habang nagpapatuloy sa pagnguya sa kaniyang kinakain.

"Saan ba ang Laiya, Sek?" ani Tapsi.

"Sa Batangas lang naman siya. Mga isa't kalahati hanggang dalawang oras ang biyahe mula sa Maynila. Set na natin?" nakangiting sagot naman ni Sek habang ang dalawang hinlalaki ay naka-senyas ng aprub.

"Sa Black Saturday tayo pumunta para madami tayong makikitang mga tanawin!" gulat naman ang dalawa sa sinabi ni Potsi at pansamantala pang nagkatitigan sina Sek at Tapsi. Pagkatapos no'n ay nagsipagtawanan sila.

"Agree ako diyan sa Sabado de Gloria. Teka, 'di ba sa susunod na linggo na iyon?" ani Tapsi.

"Okay lang iyon, handa na rin naman tayo palagi e. Kaya walang problema. Sasakyan ko na lang ang gagamitin natin para makatipid tayo sa gasolina," si Potsi na ang sumagot matapos uminom ng mountain dew.

Tumango na lamang ang dalawa dahil alam naman nilang sa kanilang tatlo ay si Potsi ang laging handa. Minsan nga ay si Potsi na ang taya sa kanilang summer outing taon-taon e.

"At kung may problema kayo sa budget, ako na rin ang bahala ha? He-he," tatawa-tawang sabi ni Potsi na ikinatawa na rin naman ng dalawa.

"Maasahan ka talaga, Potsi! Gusto mo order pa kami ng pagkain sa iyo?"

Masayang nagtatawanan ang magbarkada sa Jollibee nang mga oras na iyon dahil sa kaibigan nilang si Potsi. Pare-pareho na rin naman silang may mga trabaho. Kaya wala nang problema sa kanila ang pera.

#TravelFriendsGoals ang motto nilang tatlo. Si Tapsi ay isang Real Estate Broker agent habang si Seksi naman ay isang Fashion Model at si Potsi ay isang Food Blogger. Lahat sila ay iisa ang hilig--ang maglakbay at libutin ang mga natatagong lugar sa Pilipinas.

*

Lumipas ang isang linggo, araw ng Sabado ay maagang umalis mula sa Quezon City ang magkakaibigan. Gamit ang sasakyan ni Potsi na Toyota Revo ay bumiyahe na sila. Si Potsi ang nagmamaneho, si Seksi naman ang tumitingin sa mapang dala niya habang si Tapsi ay panay ang kuha ng litrato sa sarili sa likuran ng sasakyan.

"Hindi ka ba nagsasawa sa mukha mo, Taps? Guwapong-guwapo ka sa sarili a!" tanong ni Potsi habang tumitingin-tingin sa rear-view mirror ng sasakyan. Nginitian na lamang siya ni Tapsi.

"Hayaan mo na 'yang broker nating kaibigan. Alam mo namang siya lang ang may magandang mukha sa inyong dalawa. Ha-ha," asar ni Sek kay Potsi.

"Anong guwapo? E kung pumayat ako 'di hamak na mas may hitsura ako kay Taps!" depensa naman ni Potsi.

"Oo na, Pots. Mas guwapo ka naman sa akin ng kalahating paligo lang naman kapag pumayat ka 'di ba? Bakit kasi ayaw mo akong samahan sa gym para makapag-work-out ka na rin at mabawasan ang bilbil mo?" ani Tapsi kay Potsi.

"Gusto mo ibaba kita sa gitna ng kalsada, Taps? At saka, hindi ko na kailangan mag-gym. Food is life. Enjoy life, enjoy goya sabi ng commercial ni Kim Chiu," naiinis na nagpapatwang sagot naman ni Potsi habang nakatuon pa rin ang atensiyon sa kalsada. Lihim na lamang na natawa si Seksi sa dalawang kaibigan.

"Ikaw naman, hindi na mabiro. Alam mo namang love kita e lalo na nang malaman kong love mo abs ko! Ha-ha," pang-aalaska na naman ni Tapsi.

"Mukha mo! Mas marami akong abs sa iyo, tabs nga lang at malalaki pa! Ha-ha," napuno na naman ng tawanan ang loob ng sasakyan. Asaran kung asaran. Iyan ang nakasanayan na nila.

Lumipas ang isang oras na biyahe ay nakatulog na sina Tapsi at Seksi habang si Potsi ay gising na gising ang diwa dahil habang nagmamaneho ay panay ang dukot nito sa baon niyang mga pagkain malapit sa kaniya.

Dumaan pa ang isang oras ay napansin ni Potsi na parang may mali sa direksyong tinatahak nila. Agad niyang kinuha ang mapang dala ni Seksi at tiningnan ito. Dahil hindi niya kabisado ang nakapaloob sa mapa, ginising na lamang niya si Seksi.

"Sek! Sek! SEEKKK!" tulog-mantika ang babae, kaya sumigaw na lamang si Potsi na ikinagulat din ni Tapsi sa back seat.

"Sorry. Naliligaw yata tayo. Tingnan mo ang mapa, Sek," agad namang tiningnan ni Seksi ang mapa at sinipat-sipat ang kinaroroonan nila.

"Ihinto mo nga ang sasakyan muna, Pots," sinunod naman nito si Sek at pansamantalang itinigil ang sasakyan.

"Ano, naliligaw na ba tayo, Sek?" binali-baligtad pa ni Seksi ang mapa para lang siguraduhing tama ang tinatahak nilang lugar patungo sa isang sikat na resort sa Laiya, Batangas. Ngunit, may napansin siyang kakaiba.

"Nasa Laiya na nga tayo, guys pero bakit tila napadpad tayo sa isang gubat na ito?" lahat ay napatingin sa itinuro ni Seksi sa mapa at binasa ang nakasulat doon.

"Satur-Death? Ano iyan? Hindi mo ba nakita ang lugar na iyan diyan sa mapa, Sek?" tila may kung anong kakaibang simoy ng hangin naman ang dumampi sa mga balat ng magkakaibigan ng mga oras na iyon matapos sambitin ang katagang Satur-death.

"Patingin nga? Kinilabutan ako sa pangalan e. Satur-death, tunog saturday o sabado tapos may death? Kamatayan? E 'di ba sabado ngayon? Don't tell me may mangyayaring hindi maganda sa atin?" sabay-sabay na nagkatinginan ang tatlo habang nakatigil ang sasakyan sa gitna ng kalsada na hindi pamilyar na lugar. Tahimik ang lugar na iyon at ni busina, tunog o mga sasakyan ay wala kang maririnig o makikitang napapadaan.  

"Ang mabuti pa, bumalik na lang tayo sa kung saan tayo kanina nanggagaling. Baka mali lang talaga ang napasukan natin. Baka shortcut lang ito, guys," nagtatapang-tapangang wika ni Seksi.

"Ang sabi sa pamahiin, kapag naligaw daw tayo, hubarin natin ang mga damit natin," nagpapatawang wika ni Potsi.

"Anong hubarin? Baka ang ibig **** sabihin, baligtarin!" pagkaklaro ni Tapsi.

"Pareho lang naman silang may 'rin' sa dulo e," dagdag pa ni Potsi. Napailing na lamang sina Tapsi at Seksi at naghubad na lamang upang baligtarin ang kanilang damit.

Matapos baligtarin ang damit ay pinaandar na ni Potsi ang sasakyan. Dahan-dahan na lamang niya itong minamaneho upang makabisado ang kalsadang kanilang tinatahak.

Tatlumpung minuto na ang nakalilipas nang matagpuan nila ang isang karatula sa gilid ng kalasda na nakadikit sa isang puno.

"THIS WAY TO LAIYA!"

Agad na nabuhayan ng loob ang magkakaibigan dahil sa nakitang sign board na nang tingnan nila sa mapa ay nakaukit naman iyon.

"Deretso na lang tayo, Potsi at mararating na natin ang mismong resort sa Laiya," iyan na lamang ang nasabi ni Seksi nang mga oras na iyon.

Nang malampasan nila ang karatula ay bigla na lang naging makulimlim ang kalangitan at biglang bumuhos ang ulan. At hindi nila inasahan ang isang palasong bumutas sa kaliwang gulong ng sinasakyan nilang Toyota Revo.

Gulat na gulat ang mukha ng magkakaibigan nang biglang gumewang-gewang ang sasakyan at nabundol ito sa isang puno. Mabuti na lamang at hindi sila napuruhan. Kaunting galos lamang ang kanilang natamo kaya agad din nilang inayos ang mga sarili.

Nang mga oras na iyon, sa side-mirror ng sasakyan ay may napansin si Seksi na papalapit sa kanilang kinaroroonan. Nang ilang metro na lamang ang layo nito sa kanilang sasakyan ay nakita niyang may hawak itong pana at palaso. Pinakawalan niya ito at tumama kaliwang bahagi ng side-mirror.

"BABA! LABAS! Takbo na tayo! May gustong pumatay sa atin. Labas na!" sa taranta ay isa-isang nagsilabasan sa loob ng sasakyan ang magkakaibigan. Napasubsob pa ang mukha ni Potsi sa damuhan pagkababa nito. Agad na inalalayan siya ni Tapsi upang makatayo habang si Seksi naman ay sumisigaw na.

"Takbo! Takbo na! Bilis!"

Walang lingon-lingon ay agad na silang nagsitakbuhan ngunit hindi pa man sila nakakahakbang ay isang palaso ang tumama sa kaliwang binti ni Potsi dahilan upang mapabitaw ito sa balikat ni Tapsi at natumba.

Napahiyaw sa sakit si Potsi. Gulantang naman ang mukha ni Seksi. Nagmadali siyang balikan ang kaibigan at tinulungang makatayo si Potsi dahil malapit na malapit na ang salarin sa kanila.

"Iwan niyo na ako, Taps, Sek!" kitang-kita na sa mga mata ni Potsi ang panghihinat at takot nang mga oras na iyon. Kahit umuulan ay pansin na pansing naluluha na ang kaibigan.

"Hindi ka namin pwedeng iwan dito, Pots! Sama-sama tayo! Sek, bilis iangat natin si Pots. Isa, dalawa, tatlo!" kahit mabigat ay nagawa pa rin nila itong itayo upang makatakbo at makalayo sa kung sino man ang gustong pumatay sa kanila.

Nang muli na silang hahakbang ay hindi nila napansin ang paglapit ng hindi pamilyar na nilalang at itinarak sa likuran ni Potsi ang matulis na palaso. Agad na lumingon sina Tapsi at Seksi sa salarin nang sumigaw nang malakas si Posti.

Doon ay mulagat silang pareho nang isa na namang palaso sana ang tatama at itatarak kay Sek. Mabuti na lamang ay maagap si Tapsi. Binitawan niya si Potsi at agad na sinugod ang salarin.

Parang torong iniuntog ni Tapsi ang ulo niya sa tiyan nito at pareho silang natumba sa magkabilang direksyon. Nang mga sandaling iyon, habang patuloy sa pagbuhos ang ulan ay naaninag ni Seksi ang mukha ng gustong pumatay sa kanila.

May suot itong maskara sa mukha na ang tanging makikita ay ang mga mata lamang niya. Ang mga balat sa leeg, kamay at paa ay parang bangkay na naagnas. Matatalim din ang mga kuko nito sa mga kamay at paa.

Itinuon ni Sek ang atensiyon sa kaibigang si Potsi na nang mga oras na iyon ay tila nawalan ng malay. Niyugyog-yugyog niya ang kaibigan. Pinakiramdaman niya rin ang pulso nito at pinakinggan ang tibok ng puso. Doon ay napagtanto niyang may pag-asa pa si Potsi.

"Taps! Buhay pa si Potsi!" sigaw niya sa kaibigan.

"Tumakas na kayo, Sek! Ako na ang bahala rito! Alis na!" agad na sinugod si Sek ng kaharap at nahagip ng tulis ng palaso ang kaniyang braso dahilan upang makaramdam siya ng hapdi.

Hinila-hila naman ni Sek si Potsi upang dalhin sa ligtas na lugar. Kahit hindi kaya ng kaniyang mga braso ay pinilit niya pa ring hilahin ito.

Samantala, dinampot ni Tapsi ang palasong nabitawan ng may sa kanibal na nilalang at pinatamaan ito sa pamamagitan ng pagtarak ng palaso. Parang gutom na gutom naman ito dahil naiilagan niya ang bawat pagtarak sa kaniya ng palaso.

Animo ay isang baliw na nakakita ng kaniyang laruan ang kaharap ni Tapsi. Hindi naman nagpatalo ang huli. Nang muling itatarak sa kaniya ang palaso ay napigilan niya ito at sinipa sa gitnang hita ang kaharap. Napahawak naman ito sa kaniyang hinaharap. Hindi na rin sinayang ni Tapsi ang pagkakataon upang makaganti.

Agad niyang kinuha ang palasong nabitawan niya at itinarak iyon sa leeg. Makailang beses niyang hinugot-baon ang palaso at itinarak muli sa iba pang bahagi ng katawan nito. Sa leeg, sa mata, sa butas ng tainga maging sa bunganga at ang panghuli sa puso nito.

Hingal na hingal man si Tapsi ay nagawa pa niyang tanggalin ang nakabalot na maskara sa mukha ng kaniyang kalaban at doon nakita ang inuuod-uod ng mukha. Hindi niya nasikmurang pagmasdan kaya nasuka si Tapsi. Kinalaunan ay pinuntahan na lamang niya si Sek na hindi pa rin nakakalayo sa kakahila sa kaibigang si Potsi.

Punong-puno ng dugo ang mga kamay, mukha at kasuotan ni Tapsi nang makita siya ni Sek. Nahuhugasan lamang iyon sa bawat patak at buhos ng ulan.

"Kailangan na nating makaalis dito, Taps. Kailangan maisugod si Potsi sa ospital!"

"Saan tayo hihingi ng tulong e, nakita mo namang mukhang halimaw ang nakalaban ko, Sek,"

"Si Potsi, Taps. Anong gagawin natin? Marami ng dugo ang nawala sa kaniya,"

"Hindi ko alam pero sana tumila na ang ulan nang makita na natin ang dinadaanan natin para makahingi tayo ng tulong. Tulungan mo na akong buhatin si Potsi. Siguro naman--"

Hindi pa natatapos ni Tapsi ang kaniyang sasabihin nang maramdaman niyang may matulis na bagay ang tumusok sa kaniyang batok na tumagos sa kaniyang lalamunan.

Sigaw naman nang sigaw si Sek at hindi na malaman ang gagawin. Nakita niyang may papalapit naman sa kinaroroonan nila. Kailangan na niyang iwanan ang mga kaibigan at iligtas ang kaniyang sarili para makapagtago.

Sa isang malaking puno sa 'di kalayuan ay doon nagtago si Sek. Tanging mga mata na lamang niya ang nagmamasid sa kung ano ang puwedeng gawin ng mga ito sa kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Katulad ng napatay ni Tapsi ay ganoon din ang mga hitsura ng kani-kanilang balat at mukha. Katulad sila ng mga kanibal na gustong pumatay ng tao. Isang babaeng may mahahabang buhok ang may hawak na tabak ang walang kaabog-abog na tumabas sa leeg ni Tapsi.

Gustuhin mang sumigaw ni Sek ay hindi niya magawa. Tinakpan na lamang niya ang kaniyang bunganga at parang gripong sunod-sunod naman sa pag-agos ang kaniyang mga luha nang makita ang sinapit ng kaibigang sina Tapsi at Potsi.

Gamit ang tabak ay isa-isa naman nilang pinagtataga ang katawan ni Potsi. Pinutulan nila ito ng braso at ibinigay sa isang maliit na batang sabik na sabik na kainin ito habang ang isang may katangkarang lalaki ay panay ang sipsip at dila nito sa ulong-pugot ni Tapsi.

Duwal na duwal na si Sek nang mga oras na iyon at agad na nagsuka. Sa kasamaang palad ay matalas ang pandinig nila at narinig siya ng isang matangkad na lalaki at inamoy-amoy ang paligid upang malaman ang kinaroroonan niya. Pigil-hininga naman si Sek at isiniksik ang sarili sa punong pinagtataguan niya. Takip-takip na rin niyang muli ang kaniyang bibig upang pigilan ang kaniyang paghikbi.

Nakiramdam pa si Sek sa kaniyang paligid kung naroroon pa ang mga halimaw. Tanging ang pintig na lamang ng kaniyang puso ang kaniyang narinig nang mga sandaling iyon kaya naman ay marahan siyang tumingin sa direksyon kung saan naroon ang kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Isang mata pa man lang ang kaniyang nailalabas nang biglang bumulaga sa kaniya ang isang inuuod na mala-demonyo ang mukhang nakangiti sa kaniya at hinawakan siya sa buhok.

Nagpupumiglas si Sek at pilit na tinatanggal ang kamay nito sa buho. Pero isang malakas na suntok sa sikmura ang kaniyang natikman. Agad siyang kinaladkad habang nakahawak pa rin ito sa kaniyang buhok at dinala sa kinaroroonan ng kaniyang mga patay na kaibigan.

Napatakip na lamang sa kaniyang bibig si Sek nang mapagmasdan ang sinapit ng kaniyang mga kaibigan sa kaniyang harapan.

Hawak-hawak pa rin ng lalaki ang kaniyang buhok ay agad na itinutok sa kaniyang leeg ang matulis na tabak. Pigil hininga at lunok-laway na lamang ang nagawa ni Sek nang unti-unting hinihiwa ang balat sa kaniyang leeg hanggang sa maabot ng tabak ang ugat nito. Sabay-saba

I'm writing on my feet
I'm writing on a sheet
I'm writing on a budget
Feels like writing in a closet
Yeah, a budget of air
Limited oxygen's a dangerous affair
I scribble like the last seconds of a test
The words come tumbling out
Like bees from a nest
And then suddenly its over
My mind's been bared
It's like my closet's been aired
I breathe easy and I smile
I put my pen down and walk the last mile

I’m called Madam Budget Cut, hard-edged Ms. Bludgeon ****,
Slashing each piece of the pie.
But still I the budget gut, both guns and butter cut,
Balance the budget or die!

I’ve a tax for tobacco, and (pols think I’m whacko),
I’m slashing their projects with knives.
No ribbons for cutting, no grants for abutting
Old properties owned by their wives.

I’ve cross-the-board fixes, I’ve “no ways” and “nixes”,
I’ve silly assumptions and worse.
I consolidate functions, ignore court injunctions
Protecting the power of the purse.

I’ve early-out options, I propose late adoptions
Of programs designed by the Feds.
I close institutions, slow down restitutions,
And limit the number of beds.

I fire those who sign up
The thousands who line up
For Medicaid, welfare and such.
I’ve April surprises, with merit pay prizes
For staff who don’t argue too much.

So go with my uppercut,
Knock out the sludge, and gut,
Budgets should never be shy.
So we’ll cut, snip and suture,
Then look toward the future,
And pray that the patient won’t die!

Sailing over white fluffy clouds in an aluminum tube
The occasional glimpse of earth thirty thousand feet below
A muted roar as mighty engines drive us through sky
Just over a hundred years ago only birds could fly
But modern jet propulsion drives man to greater heights
Over soaring mountain peaks that man has yet to climb
Effortless we cruise through a world of space and time
The trolley dolly does her rounds with over priced plastic wrapped food
Later she'll be back again with over priced duty free goods
I study my fellow passenger, coming from every walk of life
Some are single, some are married, SOME with another mans wife
Crammed in shoulder to shoulder, strangers on every side
A typical budget airline holiday and a budget airline ride
Soon once more we'll touch the ground, with a hidden sigh of relief
But we all will do it yet again, in a year, a month, or maybe in a week

If every button on your blouse and jeans
Were the knobs of the doors
Of the Budget Inn
I would wrap my hand around them forcefully
And twist and turn until
I finally gained entry.
And if the unwashed comforters
That cover the soiled beds
Were your eager lips
I would jump into them
Until the stains left by other lovers
Made their mark on my skin
In the form of broken blood vessels
And residual lipstick.
And if the thin pages of the
Dust-covered bible tucked into the nightstand
Were every word you whispered
Before sinking your teeth into my skin
I would rip out every page
And paste them over the peeling wallpaper
So that I would be able to read them
Again and again and again
Until I finally believed
That more than failed religion
Could bring me to my knees.

Got the brand new budget inspiration blues
I'm gonna spend my money any old way I choose
come the first I'll pay the rent
Lord knows that money's heaven sent
and anyway you add it up you just can't lose
when you're payin with the brand new budget Inspiration Blues...

Got into an accident last week
Bust my craw
wired my jaw
now I can hardly speak
I don't care about the wreck
I'm waitin on that insurance check
but that Chevy I plowed into
well...it ain't no hit and run
'cause I'll be payin out the yin yan till it's 1991.

Donald Trump's unleashed a budget
with fanfare great and loud;
And if you helped elect him
you are, no doubt, standing proud.

Such joy and happiness you'll feel
and oh such special thrills,
to find yourself in bankruptcy
from rising healthcare bills.

With public education trashed,
most kids will come out fools,
but so glad for those richer kids
in better, private schools.

No more funding for the arts,
oh what a lovely treat,
to walk past starving artists out
panhandling on your street.

When you drink water from your tap
and start to gag and choke,
be grateful that the E.P.A.
has gone right up in smoke.

If you're old and your Medicaid
won't cover that prescription,
will "Proud to die before my time"
be on your grave's inscription?

So where will all the savings go
from all this cost reduction?
Be thrilled to know it will buy more
weapons of mass destruction;

and it will build a monument
to Trump, so we will see
a massive wall, so broad and tall,
as useless as is he.

Though into pain and suffering
your country will be slidin',
your vote for Trump has given you
a budget you'll take pride in.

Narcissist I


Money questions hidden in cultures
Instead of debates, we have the vultures
They will overspend whatever their budget
Destroy years hard work, their odour pungent

Often called users, epiphytes of highest order
Those that cannot earn sufficient to quarter
Or manage their own, so they use others
Spending, unfettered, is their druthers

Cannot accept responsibility for damage
Continue to feast on their host, they ravage
Hollowing out from inside, funds they suction
Weakening the structure for eventual destruction

And weakened, debates then start about savings
Too late, funds gone, too late for the cravings
Absent conversation, leaves a bad situation
Long ago, train of debate left the station

What we have now is death and decay
All caused by silence, as the vultures flay
It will not be long until they seek a new host
Just when their former home needs them most

So leave they will, to claw the next poor victim
Removing their talons of love and devotion
Moving on, leaving behind just carcasses
Warm used bodies, mark of a narcissist

Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****.
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******!
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!

Sometimes, looking at you in the light of the kitchen  I want
to run a finger
Down the length of your nose but
I know you'd wrinkle it, and shake your head citing a tickle, but kiss behind my shoulder as soon
As I turn away

When my feet make ice pools in the bed
Toes accidentally brushing your ankle and you **** abruptly, but upon hearing
My sigh, trap them back with your ankles til, martyr that you are, I'm engulfed in
Warmth at your
Expense.

Sometimes the last trickle of milk is mine, for the coffee,
Silent with your eyes smiling fondly, you look on as I sip, resolutely stirring powdered
Dead baby souls into mug as substitute.

Even damp smelly socks
Greasy hair
Neurotic tears and
Intellectual rambling epiphanies

Even childish blunders, fudging the
Budget or burning the toast

You still call me fond Things.

And love Me.
The most.

School was always humuorous to a degree in my opinion because of the underlying idea
that the more damaged you were, the cooler you were in the eyes of the rest of the school.
I have heard numerous conversations that began with something along the lines of, "Oh, you
think YOU got it bad, well my dad blah blah and my best friend blah blah and my life is hell."

I decided to get a little personal and share with you guys something I have never actually
told anyone in entirety yet. I am pretty sure the whole story is still only here in my brain.
I will, out of respect for these people, change their names.

It's October 31, 2012. It's about noon, and all of us sixteen to twenty-two year olds are just waking up.
Brianne woke up probably a few hours ago already to tend to her son, Aaron. He is adorable, one
and a half, blond hair, blue eyes. I have been living here for nearly two months. I am supporting her,
Aaron, and myself with food stamps. I get two hundred dollars a month to basically smoke **** and drink
on the government's budget. Trust me, I'm not proud of it either, and if I could I would pay it back.
Since Brianne is a single mother and an adopted child, she has a single-digit monthly rent (I was *******
baffled to hear this) and receives support from her foster parents. Basically, if I want to stay here forever
with absolutely no consequences save to miss out on a life of my own, I can.

Brandon is putting on clown make-up so he can troll the streets as a juggalo. I find this amusing as I always
liked to mess around with ICP fans, but he's a really cool kid so I let it go and I even help him perfect it.
I notice he has a bottle of Stolichnaya in his backpack and it's practically full. That, to me, is temptation.
I ask if he would mind me taking a few drinks here and there from the bottle and he says it's fine, so I proceed
to get a nice one p.m. buzz. It was always my favorite drunk, very light, and airy, almost like you're still asleep.
Something bogs you down, but it doesn't bother you, somehow it makes you lighter.

For the rest of the day, we hook up with a few friends, go out and trick or treat in the pouring rain, get soaked
and wait for two hours under an overpass while Brianne goes and gets her car. From there, we proceed home.

At this point, everyone is over at Breanne's and we're all making dinner and drinking beer and having a good time
(Aaron is with the grandparents tonight). I guess I started getting angry about the recent events (for about a month,
everyone in our group with the exception of Brandon have been slowly losing items...but they're obviously being stolen.
At a point, a few of us did some research and determined the only person who could possibly have stolen
a good deal of these things has to be Brandon) and I decided I was tired of sitting on the news waiting for no one to make
a move after a solid two weeks of being certain that we had our guy. So I called him out... and proceeded
to begin burning bridges slowly and very surely for the next few days. I am pretty sure a fight would have broken out
if Bri hadn't taken me into her room to relax. When I finally do, it turns out I woke up the upstairs neighbor,
her baby, and everyone in the house has left save for my friend Jeff and his girlfriend Marissa. This concludes night one.

I later learned that Brandon was not actually the person who was stealing from us (unless of course
he just happened to not get caught when we found out who had done most of it) and I feel bad for bringing the whole
thing up because I would have liked to stay in touch with him. We got along swimmingly and he actually did have
a lot of interesting things to talk about. Smart, nice, hilarious... Well, maybe he'll turn up one day.

The next morning, I woke up to find the house empty save for Jeff and Marissa in the next room, but where I am,
it simply appears empty. I don't know what happened but I intuit that I have been sleeping all night without
my girlfriend. This upsets me and I begin to weep like a confused child, which is exactly what you do when you're
helpless and too drunk in the brain to figure out how to pull yourself out of a helpless situation (trust me,
I own the handbook). Marissa walks in and begins to explain to me that I had scared her too much and she slept
on the couch and that she had left to go pick up her son. So I realize I need to calm down, but I can feel
Jeff is not happy with me in the slightest, considering he will not come and talk to me (this is extremely painful
because he is probably one of the best friends I have ever had, with a mind that vastly exceeds that of everyone
I have met save one other, and he's a different story). They leave and I decide to stay in the house all day.

This is a very bad idea. I stay home, watch re-runs of a show I have seen billions of times, and considering
that Brandon and I are no longer on good terms, like a complete *******, I drink the rest of his *****.

In walks Bri, it's around 7. She's not happy. She proceeds to tell me that the night before I asked out a friend of mine
and she said yes. And I was a bit shocked because I couldn't remember it at first. Then it all hit me.

A few days before, Aaron called me "dad." Now remember, this is not my child. I am dark, dark, dark, and she had this kid
about two years after we had any past relationship. I am extremely worried in my mind and I realize I am headed toward nothing.
That I am stagnant and can not even afford to go back to school. This scares me, so I drunkenly asked out Tanya.

Tanya...we had been friends for about five years, and I had tried to get with her so many **** times... she was like
one of those girls you see and you're instantly reminded of an anime character. Tall, thin, beautiful hips, perfect
proportions, lovely hair, eyes, voice, and a personality I can liken to a Disney princess/black metal lumberjack.
The kind of girl who has a tough exterior, but inside, she just wants someone to tell her everything is going to be ok.

After about two hours of pleading with Bri to let me stay, I finally send Tanya a message, and we hang out for the next
two days, whence I whisper in her ear that everything is going to be okay and we proceed to have quite passionate ***
for those nights, where I discovered the secret to making a woman ****** with my tongue (tip: if the underside of your
tongue isn't completely torn apart, you're doing something wrong). But alas, I could not stay.

This is the part I dreaded, because I know I have to go back to Jeff's house and ask him if I can stay there for a while.
And I got the answer I expected.

The words he used...

"I'm *******...extremely ******* at you, and disappointed." It was like a father saying it to you. And him and I
have a very interesting friendship built on such an extreme understanding that I knew exactly how badly I had been spiraling.
I began to leave and he gave me a slice of pizza, with that slight smile that told me "just go find yourself, we'll be fine."

I hobbled off into the night drunk, with one piece of pizza and all my food at Bri's, which could have lasted me another few days,
easing the transition into homeless. And it could have prevented a horrible occurance that took place the following afternoon. I
was crying, because I knew I was dying, but I didn't want to ask either of my parents for help, because this was the first time
I was out on my own and I was far too proud to give up and let the world make me its victim. So I walked...

Sixteen ******* miles...

To the next town. Took me all night because I was dodging traffic, easing into trees, avoiding on and off ramps, trying to stay
away from any police that may exist on the road. When I finally arrived in the next town (where I knew I may have one contact)
I decided to sleep until the morning came so I could have the energy to find my next venture.

It was five thirty am. I had 3 hours until sun-up, I had just walked enough to be burning, and there was plenty of whiskey in my veins.
I had left my sleeping bag with Tanya hours earlier, wishing in the park that I had not been so naiive as to think I would be allowed
back in the house. So I pulled out a pile of ***** clothes and put them over me like blankets, in some random corner of the local
park, under some bushes, hidden from cold and sight, with great hope...

Fifteen minutes pass. My eyes shoot open. I am freezing. The sweat has dried and frozen to my body. This is hell.

I grab my things and with the worst effort I can ever remember myself mustering, I drag myself to the toilet.
When I open it, the first thing I check for is cleanliness. It's spotless. I am so relieved. I sit in the corner of the room,
which my knees to my chest, head in my hands, wrapped in a leather jacket I had gotten from Jeff (ha, he really is my
guardian angel, though he would laugh to hear it).

I catch winks, occasionally looking up to check if the sun is rising. When it finally is, I get up, change my clothes (I had
ONE clean set of clothing and it had been rotting with the rest in the backpack) and immediately head to a thrift store where
a family friend is working.

On my way there, I notice in a little parking lot near the store a sight I had never actually come across but I always thought
would be the most amazing luck, and it was timed in such a spot in my life that it was the ultimate miracle...and a curse in
disguise.

In front of my eyes (this miracle appeared in my path as I was walking looking down, so it startled me) was the worst possible thing
for me: A half finished fifth of Smirnoff, and a half smoked pack of Marlboro 100 Reds. I open the pack and sure enough, the celophane
protected every cigarette inside from any water damage. I am ecstatic. This is not only amazing, but highly unlikely.

So I down the bottle in one go and take the rest of the smokes with me.

When I arrive at the thrift shop, it turns out I am there on a day when my potential savior is not working, so I get her number from the clerk
and head over to a payphone and realize... I have no money. So I decide to go on a quest for dropped pocket change.

Before I even leave the parking lot, I see a young man, no older than 23, sitting on a nice red classic-style Corvette and he's
reading William S. Burroughs. So naturally, I decide to strike up a conversation with the young man. Turns out he's the nicest guy
and his name is Jordan. So him and I got together and decided to go out for a game of disc golf (some may not know what this is;
Imagine frisbee but with a golf theme, so you need to get from a tee pad into a basket. Really fun, centering, and extremely popular
with potheads, Californians, beer-drinkers, and hippies) and before we go, he asks if I would like to snag a few beers first.

I tell him a piece of my story and he can tell I am down on my luck and broke so he decides to help me out. He buys us both some beer
and we proceed to disk.

Turns out he's an ex-****** and has been through quite a bit of hell himself, so we find that we're in a good position to help each
other make some better decisions in life. After the game, we go over to a payphone and he gives me money to call my friend.

Buzz (this the only name I am not changing because her name is ******* badass) answers the phone and unfortunately informs me that
though she would take me in any day of the year, she just moved in to a house with one older lady she takes care of, and its a single
bedroom apartment, so there is just no way it can work.

So I go back to his car and tell him the news, and he says he thinks he may be able to put me up for a few days until I can sort
everything out. We go back out to the store and grab ourselves a fifth of *****.

We end up in the park playing music, talking, performing standup for one another, and I begin to realize I am drinking too fast,
so I try to ease back a little. He was playing a version of a Radiohead song I had never heard before

"Everyone this way. Okay, get your hands against the wall. Spread your legs. Don't move."
The doors clanking, some ******* won't shut up in the next cell over.
More slamming of doors, someone rubbing my body all over trying to find my knives, no doubt.
And my AK 47 I conceal, and my ****, and my ... oh ****, I really did have **** on me.

"Move forward. Turn around. Alright, go to bed."

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------

"Get up. Come on, slowly... There you go. There's a few more coming in so we got to get you to another cell."

Clank, clank...

"Pick a bed."

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------

Something is wrong. This bed is not covered. There is no comfort. It's just a mat. And I have no pillow. This is not a house
of any sort, my bag isnt what I am sleeping on. Something is very wrong here.

I am in jail. Oh of course.

I know the answer before I hear it, but I ask anyway: "What are my charges, ma'am?"

"Drunk in public."

-------------------------------------------------------­------------------------

I'm about thirty miles or so North of inner Seattle. Not a bad place to be. I'm working for a Safeway. It's somewhere around
the first of June. I receive word that Bri has been on ******. And I may have left at a crucial time in her life thinking
only of myself, but I needed to go somewhere I could be productive. Yet my decision left her in a position where she turned
to hard drugs...

I can't help but feel I am to blame. I am listening to the dull, stupid words of my ex boss, Rod, who is telling me
that even though I may feel like I need to help her, there is nothing I can do for her, so I should bury myself in my work
instead. He tells me this in about six hundred different ways before I leave the room after twenty minutes. Well great.
I may have no focus here at work today, but at least I killed almost a half hour of the day just listening to someone
*******.

I am at a loss of what to do here, but I eventually get a hold of her, and after a long time not talking, we come to
somewhat of a closure, and she is beginning to sober up herself. I realize we were both in incredibly hard times, and I still
wish with all my heart there could have been some way I could have helped her raise that boy and stayed and been her
love, and at the same time, still go to college, and progress and get a good job...but I was in a small Northern California
town. There was nothing left, all the old shops were out of business. It was time for me to move on then, and we have
all seen better days for it. She looks incredible these days by the way. She lost an insane amount of weight, and I know
a lot of it had to do with the drugs, but if she truly is sober like she says she is, she'll be getting much better.

A few weeks ago 3 people I used to know and hang out with died in the span of a week. It was a terrible tragedy, and I have been
thinking back on all the names of people I used to love very, very much before they got lost in some way.

There's Lorne Holly, who killed himself after a few weeks of detoxing from crank.

Layla Harmon, who died in a car crash, blunt head trauma, with a drunk driver (I have a tattoo for this, I will never drive drunk).

Heavy Eagle, who killed himself after years of drug problems.

Chaz Lipman, who died in a car crash as well.

Ren Rain, who I am still not sure about...

And of course, Tray Beraldi, who was my closest friend's cousin... I wish I were there to mourne with him...

Last night I got a text from my best friend, who said he couldn't sleep and he barely eats anything anymore, and he feels like his throat
is going to explode, and he cant swallow and his neck is killing him constantly. He has been this way for a year, and he is talking constantly
about getting a gun and blowing his head off. And no one believes him because he constantly talks about it because he is in so much pain.
No doctor can diagnose him so far, he has no idea what's wrong with him, he's been tested all over the place, he has no hope, he's barely
cligning and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold on.

All I really want to say is

Lord? What I have done? I don't pray, I never pray, I don't even know who I would pray to. But WHAT ELSE DO I HAVE TO DO?!

I bring myself across hell and I pull myself from the worst depression I h

Expanding, contracting, waxing, waning.
On the edge of your seat, eyes drooping shut.
Enthralled by boredom, hairs standing on end.
Three bites deep in a paradox sandwich,
Garnished with an oh so subtle hint of neurosis.
Seduced by a routine predisposition.
Reason fading away into subtle redundancy.

Redundancy

Redundancy

Redundancy

REEEEEEDDDDDUUUUUNNNNDDDDDA­AAANNNNCCCCCYYYYY.

Hey, would it be redundant...
If I said redundancy?
Did I say that already?
Yeah?
Better be sure cause homie don't play that.

(Which leads to the distinct and important point that there was once someone narrating this... hey wait. Well, who's doing it now? Seems sort of strange that these words are still somehow finding their way into your- oh wait, he's back!)

Or am I? How do you know?

Maybe...

I was just an illusion this whole time!!1!!11

...and then all of the sudden, it's 5:00 AM.

Again... seriously?

HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?!?!?!?!?!

Mahigit pitumpu't limang porsyento
Niyurak ng matinding alon
Walang awa ang haplos
Ang yapos na nakagigimbal
Kinitil hindi lamang ang buhay
Gayundin ang hanapbuhay.

Ni hindi masisid ang perlas
Na ngayong may takip sa ibabaw
Nabibilang ang lumalangoy
Kaawa-awang gambalain
At hablutin sa laot nang walang muang
Ngunit anong siyang magiging sapit?
Kung sila'y hahayaang hindi nakagapos?
At doon sa lambat ay patitiwarakin.

Tinaguriang "No Build Zone"
Ngunit naroon nakatirik ang bawat pundasyon
Walang opsyon, pagkat ang gobyerno
Kaytagal din nang pag-aksyon.

Mula sa libu-libong tirahan sa Tent City
Sila'y lilisan patungong Bunk House
Transitional Shelter kuno
Hanggang sa malipat
At magkaroon ng panibagong tirahan.

Doon sa Tacloban,
May dalawang daan at apatnapu't anim na tirahan
Bagkus ang nakalilim, apat na libong pamilya naman.

Salamat sa mga NGOs
Sa 9181 na Bunk House
Sa gobyernong dapat na kikilos
Kailan ba sisimulan ang pagbabago?

Walong libong pabahay raw ang ginagawa
167 bilyon ang budget,
Saan nga ba napunta?
Ito ba'y binulsa?

Comprehensive Rehabilitation Plan kung tinagurian
Kay bango ng ngalan
Bagkus umaalingasaw ang baho
Ang kasiraan, ang kawalan ng aksyon
Para sa bawat mamamayan.

Sa dakong Guian, Eastern Samar
Tatlong daang permanenteng pabahay raw
Ngunit ni isang pundasyon ng naturang pabahay
Tila naglaho pa rin ni Yolanda
At walang bakas na pasisimulan.

Sabi ni Pnoy, malinaw raw ang target
Pero hanggang target na mga lang ba?
Kailan ba sisimulan ang tuwid na daan?
Baka naman baku-bako na
Wala man lang pasabi sa kinauukulan.

Kung ang hustisya'y hindi matugunan
Sana ang kalamnan ng bawat biktima'y
Syang agapang mapunan
Kaawa-awa silang naghihikahos.

Ang laki ng tulong ng mga karatig-bansa
Ba't tila walang pakialam?
Kayong mga nasa trono,
Tayuan ang posisyon
At serbisyo'y gawin nang totoo.

I used to have a budget
I don't know where it went.
But it's too late to start one now,
the money's all been spent!

Yet there are still more bills to pay
and some are due tomorrow.
Wishing won't make them go away,
So we'll just have to borrow.

He's a high-end fashion designer with a celebrity following, but when it comes to the perfect wedding dress, Henry Holland has admitted you don't need to spend a fortune.

The designer from Greater Manchester, who has his own fashion house, said there are plenty of options for brides on a budget on the High Street.

'Being a fashion expert, I have something to say on the subject of wedding dresses, and I think you can look amazing without blowing your budget,' he said.

'Everyone knows that wedding dresses can cost an absolute fortune. You can spend anything from £8,000 - to £50,000 if you're J Lo. But there are so many amazing different styles and options on the High Street.'

Holland reveals his top picks, which can all be bought off-the-peg for less than £1,000, in his new Channel 4 show, The Changing Room.

He's impressed by the array of bridal gowns offered by Phase Eight, earmarking one Fifties-inspired design called the Sally Tulle wedding dress, which costs just £250.

He said of the dress: 'It's a cute Fifties-style prom shape with nice tulle and it doesn't look cheap, which is important. The fit and flare style flatters so many different body shapes and the length means you can show off your shoes.'

He also loved a cowl neck, full-length ivory gown from Ghost for £395, and a lacy £450 vintage-inspired wedding dress from Damsel in a Dress.

When choosing the perfect gown to walk down the aisle in, Holland recommends brides consider what they will look like from all angles.

He explained: 'Remember how important the back is. During the ceremony you will have your back to the congregation or your assembled group of friends.

'So for one of the only times in your life, think about how you look from behind.'

He advises looking for dresses with beads and sequin detailing all the way round - and again said this doesn't have to mean spending a fortune.

Showing a dress from Clifton Brides with a price tag of £995, he said: 'You can see the work that has been put into it; the beads and sequins have been sewn by hand by a skilled artisan.'

In his other style tips for brides he recommends glittery or lacy T-bar shoes and said 'always wear a veil'.

He said brides should not feel embarrassed about buying their dress from a High Street store. He added they should also banish worries about a guest turning up in the same gown with a stark warning for those planning their outfits for a friend or relative's big day.

'Buying off-the-peg is absolutely fine. You don't need to worry about anyone else turning up in the same dress as if any of your guests turns up wearing a white dress they need to be told to leave or escorted off the premises,' he joked.

One bride who took his style advice is Alex, who will tie the knot next June in Corfu.

She features in Holland's fly-on-the-wall series, The Changing Room, where cameras are installed in fitting rooms of House of Fraser, New Look, H&M;, Monsoon and River Island stores across the country.

In the first episode, which airs this evening, Alex is filmed trying on a wedding dress from Monsoon as well as picking her bridesmaids' gowns from the Oxford Street store in London.

She was impressed with the design and price of the £499 'Elise' gown, which is embellished on the front and has a mesh cut-away back covered in gems and beads.

'I love it, I don't think I want to try anything else on,' she said.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne

So you know you’re looking at two very different styles of dress, here. But precisely what decades? When did that waistline move back down? What details are the defining touches of their era? How long were women actually walking around with bustles on their backsides?

Lydia Edwards’s How to Read a Dress is a detailed, practical, and totally beautiful guide to the history of this particular form of clothing from the 16th to the 20th centuries. It tracks the small changes that pile up over time, gradually ******* until your great-grandmother’s closet looks wildly different than your own. As always, fashion makes for a compelling angle on history—paging through you can see the shifting fortunes of women in the Western world as reflected in the way they got dressed every morning.

Of course, it’ll also ensure that the next lackadaisically costumed period piece you watch gives you agita, but all knowledge has a price.

I spoke to Edwards about how exactly we go about resurrecting the history of an item that’s was typically worn until it fell apart and then recycled for scraps; our conversation has been lightly trimmed and edited for clarity.

The title of the book is How to Read a Dress. What do you mean by “reading” a dress?

Basically what I mean is, when you are looking at a dress in an exhibition or a TV show, reading it in terms of working out where the inspirations or where certain design choices come from. Being able to look at it and recognize key elements. Being able to look at the bodice and say, Oh, the shape of that is 1850s, and the design relates to this part of history, and the patterning comes from here. It’s looking at the dress as an object from the top down and being able to recognize different elements—different historical elements, different design elements, different artistic elements. “Read” is probably the best word to use for that kind of approach, if that makes sense.

It must send you around the bend a little bit, watching costume adaptations where they’re a bit slapdash. The one I think of is the Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice, which I actually really enjoy, but I know that one’s supposed to have all over the place costuming-wise.

Yeah, it does. I mean, I love the BBC Pride and Prejudice one, because they kept very specifically to a particular era. But I can see what they did with the Keira Knightley one—they were trying to keep it 1790s, when the book was written, as opposed to when it was published. But they’ve got a lot of kind of modern influences in there and they’ve got a lot of influences from 30, 40 years previously, which is interesting to an audience and gives an audience I suppose more frames of reference, more areas to think about and look at. So I can see why they did that. But it does make it more difficult if you’re trying to accurately decode a garment. It’s harder when you’ve got lots of different eras going on there, but it makes it beautiful and interesting for an audience.

The guide spans the 16th to the 20th century. Why start with the 16th century?

Well, partly because it’s where my own interest starts, in terms of my research and the areas I’ve looked at. But more importantly in terms of audience interest, we get a lot of TV shows, a lot of films in recent years—things like The Tudors—that type of era seems to be something that people are interested in. That time is very colorful and very interesting to people.

And also because in terms of thinking about the dress as garment, obviously people wore dresses in medieval times, but in terms of it being something that specifically women wore, distinct from men’s clothes, I really think we start to see that more in the 15th, 16th century onwards.

Where do you go to get the historical information to put together a book like this? What do you use as your source material? Because obviously the thing about clothing is that it has to stand up to a lot of wear and tear and a lot of it doesn’t survive.

This is the other thing about the 16th century stuff—there’s so little surviving. That’s why that chapter was a lot shorter and also that’s why I used a lot of artworks rather than surviving garments, just because they don’t exist in their entirety.

But wherever possible, you go to the garments themselves in museum collections. And then if that’s proving to be difficult, you go to artworks or images, but always bearing in mind the artist will have had their own agenda, so they won’t necessarily be accurate of what people were actually wearing. So then you have to go and look up written source material from the time—say, diaries. I like using letters that people have written to each other over the centuries, describing dress and what they were wearing on a daily basis. Novels can be good, as well.

Also the scholarship that has come before, the secondary sources, works by people like Janet Arnold, Aileen Ribeiro. Really well researched scholarly books where people have used primary sources themselves and put their own interpretation on it can be really, really helpful. Although you take some of it with a pinch of salt, and you put your own interpretation on there, as well.

But always to the dress itself wherever possible.

What are some of the challenges you face, or the constraints on our ability to learn about the history of fashion?

Well, the very practical issue of trying to see garments—some of them I did see here in Australia, but a lot of them were in the States, in Canada, in New Zealand, so it’s hard to physically get there to see them. And often, even when you can get to the museum, garments are out on loan to other exhibitions or other museums. That’s a practical consideration.

But also, especially when I’m talking about using artworks and things, which can be really helpful when you’re researching, but as I’ve said they do come from a place where there’s more interpretations and more agendas. So if someone’s done a portrait and there’s a beautiful 1880s dress in it, that could have been down to the whims of the person who was wearing it, or the artist could have changed significantly the color or style to suit his own taste. Then you have to do extra research on top of that, to make sure that what you are seeing is representative.

It’s a fascinating area. There’s a lot of challenges, but for me, that’s what makes it really exciting as well. But it’s really that question of being able to trust sources and knowing what to use and what not to use in order to make things clear for the audience.

Obviously many of these dresses were very expensive and took a lot of labor and it wasn’t fast fashion—people didn’t just give it away or toss it when it fell out of season. A lot of times, you did was you remade it. When you’re looking at a dress that’s been remade, how do you extract the information that you need as a historian out of it?

I love it when something like that comes up. I’ve got a couple of examples in the book.

Well, it can be quite challenging, because often when you’re first looking at a piece it’s not obvious that it’s been remade. But if you’re lucky enough to look inside it and actually hold it and turn it round different angles, there’ll be things like the placement of a seam, or you’ll see that the waist has been moved up or down according to the fashion. And that’s often obvious when you’re looking inside. You can see the way the skirt’s been attached. Often you can tell if a skirt’s been taken off and then reattached using different pleats, different gatherings; that can give you a hint that it’s then been remade to fit in with a different fashionable ideal.

One of the key ways is fabric. You can often see, especially in early 19th century dresses when they’ve been made of these beautiful 18th century silks and brocades. That’s nice because it’s the first obvious clue that something’s been remade or that an old dress has been completely taken apart and it’s just the fabric that’s been used. I find it particularly interesting when the waist has been moved or the seams have been taken off or re-sewn in a different shape or something like that. It can be subtle but once your knowledge base grows, that’s one of the most fascinating areas that you can look at.

You page through the book and you watch these trends unfold and there are occasional sea changes will happen fairly quickly, like when the Regency style arises. But how much change year-to-year would a woman have seen? How long would it take, just as a woman getting dressed in the morning, to see styles just radically alter? Would you even notice?

Well, this is the thing—I think it’s very easy, when we’re looking back, to imagine that in 1810 you’d be wearing this dress and then all the frills and the frouf would have started to come in the late 1810s and the 1820s, and suddenly you would have had a whole new wardrobe. But obviously, unless you were the very wealthiest women and you had access to dressmakers who had the absolute newest patterns and newest fabrics then no, you wouldn’t have seen a massive change. You wouldn’t have afforded to be able to have the newest things as they came in. You would have maybe remade dresses to make them maybe slightly more in line with a fashion plate that you might have seen, but you wouldn’t have had access to new information and new fashion plates as soon as they came. To be realistic, there would have been very little change on a day to day level.

But I think also, for us now—it’s hard to see it without hindsight, but we feel like we’re fairly fluid in wearing the same kind of styles, but obviously when we look back in 20 years, we’ll look at pictures of us and see greater changes than we’re now aware. Because it happens on a slow pace and it happens on such a subconscious level in some ways.

But actually, yeah, it’s to do with economics, it’s to do with availability. People living in towns where they couldn’t easily get to cities—if you were living in a country town a hundred miles away from London, there’s no way that you would have the resources to see the most recent fashion plates, the most recent ideas that were developing in high society. So it was a very slow process in reality.

If you have a lot of money you can change out your wardrobe quicker and wear the latest styles. And so the wealthiest people, their clothes were what in a lot of case stood the best chance of surviving and being in modern collections. So how do we know what working women would have worn or what middle class women would have worn?

Yeah, this is hard. I do have some more middle class examples, because we’re lucky in that we do have quite a few that have survived, especially in smaller museums and historical collections, where people have had clothes sitting in their attics for years and have donated them, just from normal families over the years.

But, working women, that’s much more difficult. We’re lucky from the 19th century because we have photographic evidence. But really a lot of it will come down to written descriptions, mainly letters, diaries, not necessarily that the people themselves would have kept, but there’s examples of people that worked in cotton mills, for instance, and people that ran the mills and their families and wives and friends who had written accounts of what the women there were wearing. Also newspaper accounts, particularly of people who would go and do charity work and help the poor. They often wrote quite detailed descriptions of the people that they were helping.

But in terms of actual garments, yeah, it’s very difficult. Certainly 18th century and before, it’s really, really hard to get hold of anything that gives you a really good idea of what they wore. But in the 18th century—it’s quite interesting, because then we get examples of separate pieces of clothing worn by the upper classes, like a skirt with a jacket, which was actually a lower middle class style initially and then it became appropriated by the upper classes. And then it became much fancier and trimmed and made in silks and things. So then, we can see the inspiration of the working classes on the upper classes. That’s another way of looking at it, although of course that’s much more problematic.

It’s interesting how in several cases you can see broader historical context, or other stories happening through clothes. Like you point out that the rise of the one-piece dresses is due to the rise of mantua makers, who were women who were less formally trained who were suddenly making clothing. Are there any other interesting stories like that, that you noticed and thought were really fascinating?

There’s a dress in the book that a woman made for her wedding. I think she was living on her own, or she was living with a servant and her mother or something. She made the dress and then turned up to her wedding and traveled quite a long way to get there, and when she arrived, the groom and all the guests weren’t there. There was nobody. So she went away and came back again a week later, and everyone was there. And the reason that no one was there before was that a river had flooded in the direction that they were all coming from. She had obviously no way of finding out about this until after the fact, and we have this beautiful dress that she spent ages making and had obviously gone to a lot of effort to try and work out what the latest styles were, to incorporate it into her wedding dress.

Things like that, I find really interesting, because they talk so much about human and social history as well as fashion history, and the garment is the main way we have of keeping these stories alive and remembering them and looking into the kind of life and world these people lived, who made these garments.

Over the centuries, how does technology affect fashion? Obviously, we think of the industrial revolution as really speeding up the pace of fashion. But are there other moments in the history of fashion where technology shapes what women end up wearing?

One example is where I talk about the Balenciaga dress from the early 1950s—with a bubble hem and a hat and she would have worn these beautiful pump shoes with it—with the introduction of the zipper. Which just made such a huge difference, because it suddenly meant you’d have ease and speed of dressing. It meant that you didn’t have to worry about more complicated ways of fastening a garment. I think the zipper made a massive change and also in terms of dressmaking at home, it was a really quick and simple way that people had of being able to create quite fashionable styles on a budget and with ease and speed at home.

Also, of course, once women’s dress started to become simpler and they did away with the corset and underwear became a lot less complicated, that made dressing a lot easier, that made the introduction of the bias cut and things that sit very closely to the natural body much more widely used and much more fashionable.

I would say the introduction of machine-made lace as well, particularly from the late 19th, early 20th century onwards where it was so fashionable on summer dresses and wedding dresses. It just meant that you could so much more easily add this decadent touch to a garment, because lace would have been so much more expensive before then and so time-consuming to make. I think that made a huge difference in ordinary women being able to attain a kind of luxury in their everyday dress.

That actually makes me think of something else I wanted to ask you, which is you point out in your intro the way we casually use this word “vintage.” I think about that with lace. Lace is described as being a “vintage” touch but it’s very much this question of when, where, who, why—it’s a funny term when you think about it, the way we use it so casually to describe so much.

Oh, yes. It’s crazy. I used to work in a wedding dress shop and I used to make historically inspired wedding dresses and things. And brides used to come in and say, “Oh, I want something vintage.” But they didn’t really know what they meant. Usually what they meant is they wanted something with a bit of lace on it, or with some sort of pearls or beading. I think it’s really inspired by whatever is trending at the time. So, you know, Downton Abbey became vintage. I think ‘50s has always been kind of synonymous with the word vintage. But what it means is huge,

Like the bike you bought after saving lawn-mowing money for a year, welfare reform was the prized trophy of the conservative governing philosophy. We believed that we'd found the vehicle of social mobility for poor Americans, once and for all. No one should live on taxpayer money without doing some work on their own, right? Everyone agrees, right?

Wrong. President Obama ran over our bicycle, issuing illegal waivers to welfare's work requirements and taking the wheels off the program. The fact is, we never won the welfare battle after all. Out of the 80 different federal welfare programs, the '96 welfare reform really only fixed one. A third of the U.S. population received benefits from one or more of these 80 programs in 2011. According to the Department of Agriculture, one program alone – food stamps – gave benefits to a record-breaking 47.7 million in the last month of 2012, benefits those millions didn't have to work to receive.

Rep. Paul Ryan recently said it's time to use the 1996 reform as a model to fix the rest of welfare. He's right, for at least five compelling reasons.

1. America's welfare programs are redundant and inefficient. As The Heritage Foundation's welfare expert Rachel Sheffield noted, there are at least 12 separate programs providing food aid, 12 funding social services, and 12 assisting education. Average benefits from all welfare programs are about $9,000 per recipient. If you converted those programs to cash, it would be more than five times the amount needed to raise every household above the poverty line. We should streamline redundant programs to save money while getting the same or better value.

2. Means-tested welfare programs are fiscally unsustainable. These cost nearly $1 trillion annually. By the end of the decade, welfare spending will rise from five percent to six percent of GDP. This means every taxpaying family would have to make, and then give up, over $100,000 in the next ten years – just to cover the cost of welfare spending.

Imagine this: If government spending were a pie, welfare would be a bigger slice than defense, education, or even social security. This isn't apple pie a la mode. It's poison-the-economy pie with a side of swamp-our-children-in-debt ice cream.

3. The welfare state encourages dependence instead of lifting people out of poverty. Poverty has actually increased with federal spending on anti-poverty programs. Adjusted for inflation, we've spent nearly $20 trillion total on “the war on poverty.” That's more than the combined price tag of all America's wars. Ever. From the American Revolution through Afghanistan, we've spent less than $7 trillion. These days, we spend 13 times what we spent on welfare in the 1960s. Guess what? In 1966, the share of the population living below the poverty threshold was 14.7%; by 2011, that share rose to 15.0%.

This spending gives people significant incentives to stay on welfare. According to the Senate Budget Committee, if you break down welfare spending per household in poverty, recipients are making $30/hour. That's higher than the $25/hour median income – certainly more than what I make per hour.

4. Welfare dependence creates behavioral poverty. Perhaps President Franklin D. Roosevelt said it best: “Continued dependence upon relief induces a spiritual and moral disintegration fundamentally destructive to the national fibre. To dole out relief in this way is to administer a narcotic, a subtle destroyer of the human spirit.” To become comfortable relying on the work of others instead of your own work will change your character, and the character of the nation. Americans want to give everyone a helping hand, but hand-holding year after year, generation after generation, patronizes, corrodes, entraps. In the words of welfare policy experts Robert Rector and Jennifer Marshall writing in National Affairs:

Material poverty has been replaced by a far deeper “behavioral poverty” — a vicious cycle of ***** childbearing, social dysfunction, and welfare dependency in poor communities. Even as the welfare state has improved the material comfort of low-income Americans by transferring enormous financial resources to them, it has exacerbated these behavioral problems. The result has been the disintegration of the work ethic, family structure, and social fabric of large segments of the American population, which has in turn created a new dependency class.

Is this the America we want? It is not compassionate to leave a whole class of people in perpetual dependence. Behavioral poverty cuts off millions of citizens from a chance at American opportunity, destroying the virtues necessary to sustain oneself. My generation has seen the effects of behavioral poverty – in D.C., Detroit, or my hometown, Cleveland. Whole neighborhoods rot. To many, this cycle of dependence indicts the principles of American society as inherently unfair.

5. Work requirements promote individual responsibility and reduce poverty. Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) work requirements slashed welfare caseloads by nearly 60 percent. Poverty among all single mothers fell 30 percent. About 3 million fewer children lived in poverty in 2003 than in 1995.

The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.

The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.

Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.

Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses

When you think of a drug addict, what do you see?
Someone who’s messed up, depressed, or on the street.
Sadly, there are quite a few of those freaks
They need their daily dosage or their days incomplete.
But what if I told you users aren’t the real drug addict?
It’s the government…. They’re the real drug addicts

But wait isn’t that a little dramatic?
That cant be true! Show me some facts, I demand it!

Alright, alright…. Hold on… if you demand it, here’s some facts then
In 2011 the war on drugs cost 23 billion dollars
But, that’s just the federal budget, you just wait, the states can replicate.
Over 30 billion dollars were put on their plate
That’s 53 billion total, 1716 of every second of every day… isn’t that insane!?

Well yeah, you could say that’s insane, but I’m still not impressed, can you step up your game?

Of course I can do that! I have much more to say!

Okay then, I’m all ears, amaze my brain!

From 1987 to 1995, the corrections budget increased 30% because more and more people were being thrown in the pent
Meanwhile, spending on higher education was on the decent--- 18% to be correct

Ah, that makes sense, but what I don’t get, is how that’s relevant?

Just a sec, I have more to vent
In 2010 21% of those in the pent were in for a drug related offense
And what percent of people do you think had a malicious intent?

Well… I guess you could say slim to none

Right! While educations lacking the proper funds to teach kids what they need to know

Okay, okay, I get what you’re saying now, but I still don’t get why you think the government is the drug addict?
I mean, don’t users spend more on drugs than the government does?
Drugs are expensive, and they take an abundance of money from a users pocket.

Yes, that’s true, they spend more spend more money than the government does
There are 20 million plus who reported using drugs in 2011, they spent around 70 billion dollars to support their love
That’s 3500 dollars spent per user
Meanwhile, just over 7 million people are employed by the gov
You know what that means? Our gov spends 7300 dollars per person employed for the war on drugs.

Wow… I never thought of it like that, those are quite the facts
You know what, that actually makes me mad
Obviously it makes our government a mockery, a living joke of a democracy
I can see why you say the government is a drug addict now
They’re addicted to a war that’s bringing us down
They can’t go a day without spending money on it
And look how successful it has been… pretty prominent their habit is chronic
I even recently heard that more people die from drugs they’re prescribed than drugs that are despised

Yes! I almost forgot that! It’s actually 10 times more people! Isn’t that unbelievable!?

Now, we’re not trying to say we should end the war on drugs
But don’t you think its time the government rethinks their strategy?
Because its obvious the one they have now is a tragedy.

With each budget cut
the homeless have grown
more mental illness on the streets
it's an outcome we should have known

Then the next step
to prisons they're sent
for violations and crimes
never understanding the laws they have bent

Whose fault really is it
when this problem's ignored
the mentally disabled require care
rather than the state cutting the cord

they say you'll never forget
where you were on 9/11
i was nine
i sat in the kitchen
and watched the television
play out the violence hour after hour
my child-like mind conflated the Two Towers
in Tolkien's literary fantasy
with these acts of misanthropy  
and i was taught at the dinner table
that very evening
that all of life could be reduced
to capital letters defining a
cosmic struggle of Good vs. Evil

and yet
regardless of their affiliation
on this defunct
political spectrum of
left left
left right left
politicians canonize a legacy of
injustice and oppression and
in order to suppress
democratic expression
they propagate the notion
that dissent is treason

because the wars we wage are blessed
by the sagely insight of rich old men
who sit safely in mansions protected by
picket fences as white as their skin
while they play off our emotions and
turn us into thoughtless sheep
content to stomach the whims of
politicians propagating vengeance

i will speak this out even
when my voice shakes
because i have seen the hypocrisy
of this war on terror
that relies on terror
to cultivate more terrorists
in order to perpetuate the notion
that Orwell posited

war is peace
freedom is slavery
ignorance is bliss
isn't it

in my naïveté
i rejected the reality of
torture and murdered children for
i nursed a secret hope that
despite the pictures and videos
that served as empirical evidence
we were still somehow
the good guys and
they were the bad guys

but Americans rained white
phosphorous on Fallujah
dropped the world's first
and hopefully last
atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki
we toppled democratically elected socialists
whose interests betrayed our self-serving agendas
cultivating a policy of extra-judicial assassination
regime change is the name of the game
just ask the CIA
they'd tell you
business is booming but
then they'd have to **** you

so i switched off my TV screen
and picked up books
i read Slaughterhouse-V
and treasured the way Vonnegut
looks at the lives of even
bees and butterflies as valuable
intoning "so it goes"
every time a living thing dies

i read O'Brien's
recollections
of Vietnam
a month later
he said that
like white lies
tall tales and
fishermen’s yarns
every war story
has a bit of truth

and i've seen the proof
in the photographs of
Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay
in the aftermath of drone strikes
that left pieces of kids scattered
across the desert sands of foreign lands

i see the toxic side-effects of
systemic violence in the eyes
of homeless veterans suffering
on the streets with PTSD
a flicker of fear livens a
deadened gaze at the sound of
every backfiring engine
as if they're a thousand miles away
on some distant shore

betrayed by their own
government once again
a Purple Heart is
a death sentence
when there are 22
military suicides a day
thanks for your service
now die in silence

like bad religion the phrase
war crime is rather redundant
and i testify not because i
aim to disrespect the
men and women in uniform
on the contrary

when i say
**** war
it is because i
cherish every brother
and every sister
who has perished in the
churning gears of conflict

they shoved tall tales of hope
for a collegiate education
and far-flung travel
down our throats
just sign here
right along the dotted line

we want you
to march into hellfire
we want you
to send missiles into
tiny huts and villages
tracking cell phone signals
we want you
to sit down
shut up and
just do as you're told

to every fallen human who
has been sent off to fight on
behalf of this
or any other
corrupt nation
i sincerely apologize
for not taking to the streets to protest
a vitriolic ideology

i regret filing my taxes
when 54% or more of our budget goes to
military expenditures so they could
stick an M-16 in your hands
and ship you off to die for abstract
and so often arbitrary phrases like
freedom and justice for all

you were robbed of your liberty
by a capitalist system that seeks profit
like a false prophet for
bank accounts soar in times of war  
and in my apathy i hammered
nails into your coffin

and i pride myself on  
being an anti-militaristic
non-violent anarchist because
i don't hate soldiers
if i did i would remain
silent and apathetic
and let the government
abuse its youth

i celebrate humanity
regardless of ethnicity and creed
which is precisely why i despise
this system that sacrifices
generation after generation for
conquest and imperial notions

pray tell
will we turn from the
error of our ways
wake up from
this terrorist daze
before it's too late
and say

the State can try to
whitewash history but
i refuse to let them
brainwash me

THE PROLOGUE.

When that the Knight had thus his tale told
In all the rout was neither young nor old,
That he not said it was a noble story,
And worthy to be drawen to memory;                          recorded
And namely the gentles every one.          especially the gentlefolk
Our Host then laugh'd and swore, "So may I gon,                prosper
This goes aright; unbuckled is the mail;        the budget is opened
Let see now who shall tell another tale:
For truely this game is well begun.
Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne,                       *know
Somewhat, to quiten with the Knighte's tale."                    match
The Miller that fordrunken was all pale,
So that unnethes upon his horse he sat,                with difficulty
He would avalen neither hood nor hat,                          uncover
Nor abide no man for his courtesy,                         give way to
But in Pilate's voice he gan to cry,
And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones,
"I can a noble tale for the nones                            occasion,
With which I will now quite the Knighte's tale."                 match
Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale,
And said; "Robin, abide, my leve brother,                         dear
Some better man shall tell us first another:
Abide, and let us worke thriftily."
By Godde's soul," quoth he, "that will not I,
For I will speak, or elles go my way!"
Our Host answer'd; "Tell on a devil way;             *devil take you!
Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome."
"Now hearken," quoth the Miller, "all and some:
But first I make a protestatioun.
That I am drunk, I know it by my soun':
And therefore if that I misspeak or say,
Wite it the ale of Southwark, I you pray:             blame it on
For I will tell a legend and a life
Both of a carpenter and of his wife,
How that a clerk hath set the wrighte's cap."   fooled the carpenter
The Reeve answer'd and saide, "Stint thy clap,      hold your tongue
Let be thy lewed drunken harlotry.
It is a sin, and eke a great folly
To apeiren* any man, or him defame,                              injure
And eke to bringe wives in evil name.
Thou may'st enough of other thinges sayn."
This drunken Miller spake full soon again,
And saide, "Leve brother Osewold,
Who hath no wife, he is no cuckold.
But I say not therefore that thou art one;
There be full goode wives many one.
Why art thou angry with my tale now?
I have a wife, pardie, as well as thou,
Yet *n'old I, for the oxen in my plough,                  I would not
Taken upon me more than enough,
To deemen* of myself that I am one;                               judge
I will believe well that I am none.
An husband should not be inquisitive
Of Godde's privity, nor of his wife.
So he may finde Godde's foison there,                         treasure
Of the remnant needeth not to enquere."

What should I more say, but that this Millere
He would his wordes for no man forbear,
But told his churlish tale in his mannere;               boorish, rude
Me thinketh, that I shall rehearse it here.
And therefore every gentle wight I pray,
For Godde's love to deem not that I say
Of evil intent, but that I must rehearse
Their tales all, be they better or worse,
Or elles falsen some of my mattere.                            falsify
And therefore whoso list it not to hear,
Turn o'er the leaf, and choose another tale;
For he shall find enough, both great and smale,
Of storial thing that toucheth gentiless,             historical, true
And eke morality and holiness.
Blame not me, if that ye choose amiss.
The Miller is a churl, ye know well this,
So was the Reeve, with many other mo',
And harlotry they tolde bothe two.                        ribald tales
Avise you* now, and put me out of blame;                    be warned
And eke men should not make earnest of game.                 *jest, fun

Notes to the Prologue to the Miller's Tale

1. Pilate, an unpopular personage in the mystery-plays of the
middle ages, was probably represented as having a gruff, harsh
voice.

2. Wite: blame; in Scotland, "to bear the wyte," is to bear the
blame.

THE TALE.

Whilom there was dwelling in Oxenford
A riche gnof, that guestes held to board,   miser *took in boarders
And of his craft he was a carpenter.
With him there was dwelling a poor scholer,
Had learned art, but all his fantasy
Was turned for to learn astrology.
He coude* a certain of conclusions                                 knew
To deeme by interrogations,                                  determine
If that men asked him in certain hours,
When that men should have drought or elles show'rs:
Or if men asked him what shoulde fall
Of everything, I may not reckon all.

This clerk was called Hendy Nicholas;                 gentle, handsome
Of derne love he knew and of solace;                   secret, earnest
And therewith he was sly and full privy,
And like a maiden meek for to see.
A chamber had he in that hostelry
Alone, withouten any company,
Full *fetisly y-dight with herbes swoot,            neatly decorated
And he himself was sweet as is the root                           *sweet
Of liquorice, or any setewall.                                valerian
His Almagest, and bookes great and small,
His astrolabe,  belonging to his art,
His augrim stones, layed fair apart
On shelves couched at his bedde's head,                      laid, set
His press y-cover'd with a falding red.                   coarse cloth
And all above there lay a gay psalt'ry
On which he made at nightes melody,
So sweetely, that all the chamber rang:
And Angelus ad virginem he sang.
And after that he sung the kinge's note;
Full often blessed was his merry throat.
And thus this sweete clerk his time spent
After *his friendes finding and his rent.    Attending to his friends,
                                                   and providing for the
                                                    cost of his lodging
This carpenter had wedded new a wife,
Which that he loved more than his life:
Of eighteen year, I guess, she was of age.
Jealous he was, and held her narr'w in cage,
For she was wild and young, and he was old,
And deemed himself belike* a cuckold.                           perhaps
He knew not Cato, for his wit was rude,
That bade a man wed his similitude.
Men shoulde wedden after their estate,
For youth and eld are often at debate.                             age
But since that he was fallen in the snare,
He must endure (as other folk) his care.
Fair was this younge wife, and therewithal
As any weasel her body gent and small.                      slim, neat
A seint she weared, barred all of silk,                         girdle
A barm-cloth eke as white as morning milk                     apron
Upon her lendes, full of many a gore.                  ***** *plait
White was her smock, and broider'd all before,            robe or gown
And eke behind, on her collar about
Of coal-black silk, within and eke without.
The tapes of her white volupere                      head-kerchief
Were of the same suit of her collere;
Her fillet broad of silk, and set full high:
And sickerly* she had a likerous eye.          certainly *lascivious
Full small y-pulled were her browes two,
And they were bent, and black as any sloe.                      arched
She was well more blissful on to see           pleasant to look upon
Than is the newe perjenete* tree;                       young pear-tree
And softer than the wool is of a wether.
And by her girdle hung a purse of leather,
Tassel'd with silk, and *pearled with latoun.   set with brass pearls
In all this world to seeken up and down
There is no man so wise, that coude thenche            fancy, think of
So gay a popelot, or such a *****.                          puppet
Full brighter was the shining of her hue,
Than in the Tower the noble* forged new.                a gold coin
But of her song, it was as loud and yern,                  lively
As any swallow chittering on a bern.                              barn
Thereto she coulde skip, and make a game                 also *romp
As any kid or calf following his dame.
Her mouth was sweet as braket, or as methe                    mead
Or hoard of apples, laid in hay or heath.
Wincing* she was as is a jolly colt,                           skittish
Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.
A brooch she bare upon her low collere,
As broad as is the boss of a bucklere.
Her shoon were laced on her legges high;
She was a primerole, a piggesnie ,                        primrose
For any lord t' have ligging in his bed,                         lying
Or yet for any good yeoman to wed.

Now, sir, and eft sir, so befell the case,                       again
That on a day this Hendy Nicholas
Fell with this younge wife to rage and play,       toy, play the rogue
While that her husband was at Oseney,
As clerkes be full subtle and full quaint.
And privily he caught her by the queint,                          ****
And said; "Y-wis, but if I have my will,                     assuredly
For *derne love of thee, leman, I spill."     for earnest love of thee
And helde her fast by the haunche bones,          my mistress, I perish
And saide "Leman, love me well at once,
Or I will dien, all so God me save."
And she sprang as a colt doth in the trave:
And with her head she writhed fast away,
And said; "I will not kiss thee, by my fay.                      faith
Why let be," quoth she,

All hipbones and collarbones,
Size 1 and 0, long flowing hair and gauges,
thigh gap and flat stomach,
you are beautiful.
All dry skin and yellow teeth,
Size 12 and 13, short, plain hair,
touching thighs and rounded stomach,
I am "beautiful" to everyone but myself.
I will be strong.
I will be stronger.
I will exercise more,
I will eat less,
I will be thinner.
Once I've lost 40 pounds,
then I might get the help everyone says
I so desperately need,
diet healthily
and work with somebody.
Until then, I will suffer through...
...because that shows strength,
and eating shows weakness,
weakness in myself.
Calories should be a foreign substance,
not an old friend,
chewing and swallowing sometimes hurts worse
than a **** lemon-juice papercut.
800 calories over my budget every **** day
when my budget is already too high?
That shows no strength.
500 calories under?
THAT shows strength.
Shows willpower.
Shows endurance.
That is what will make me thinner.
I'm setting my budget to 500 instead of 1000,
because hey,
less is more, right?

In just a little bit, we’ll begin to see Christmas holiday decorations, which start showing up even before Halloween. And along with the strings of lights all over the place will be a set of emotions that accompany the presents we are supposed to give.

A recent question from a reader provides an opportunity to talk about gift-giving expectations for all occasions. In this case, an upcoming wedding triggered the gift dilemma. As part of a regular feature on family financial feuds, I will address the issues the person raised.

The background: The reader’s niece is getting married. The bride and groom both work part time. The reader relayed that her niece had dropped out of college after a year and a half. The reader checked out her niece’s bridal registry and was “kind of blown away” by the high-end items, including pots and pans that cost $200 each and Kate ***** dish towels.

“I sent my sister a gentle text about being surprised that Kate ***** even made dish towels,” the reader wrote during one of my online discussions, “and she responded saying, ‘Don’t buy her anything. I will get you the information on her student loans (which she has not been responsible about) and pay those down instead of buying her anything.’”

The gift suggestion about the student loans didn’t sit well with the aunt, who already is upset since she co-signed. “My credit score is down 100 points because of it,” she wrote.

The conflict: “There are many issues here to deal with,” the aunt explained, not the least of which is that when her own daughter got married several years ago, the reader’s sister did not give a wedding present.

She continued: “I know my sister has struggled financially since her divorce, so I didn’t let it bother me. It just feels weird to pay down someone’s student loans as a wedding gift. My husband thinks I shouldn’t pay down the student loans. I am inclined to pay down something, but also get her some small items (no Kate ***** dish towels!). Any ideas?”

The bottom line: Here’s the crux of the family financial drama: “My sister [is] basically asking me for money, when she did nothing — not even a card — for my daughter’s wedding.”

There are three issues as I see it: the student loans, the pressure to buy from a registry, and retribution.

The student-loans problem shouldn’t be lumped in with the whole gifting issue. The reader refers to the debt as “someone’s student loans.”

But those are her loans, too. When you co-sign, you’re not merely providing your good credit name as a reference. Paying the loans isn’t a gift. It’s her responsibility.

If I were the reader, I would sit down with my niece and talk about how we are going to handle the debt going forward. It may be that she has to make payments until the niece is in a financial position to pick them back up.

As for the gift registry, some people list big-ticket items they can’t afford, or they expect that perhaps a group of friends or relatives may share the cost. However, sometimes it does feel like registries are an excuse for the couple to be greedy. I routinely ignore what’s picked out if I can’t find something in my budget. A registry shouldn’t be seen as a mandatory shopping list.

By the way, just because someone is underemployed or having financial troubles doesn’t mean he or she shouldn’t want nice things or even brand-name items.

Now, let’s address the core issue here. The reader is hurt that her daughter didn’t receive a wedding present.

Gifts are sometimes interpreted as a symbol of what people think of you. But if the reader’s sister and niece attended the wedding and wished the bride and groom well, shouldn’t that count for as much as, if not more than, some gaudy gift?

As Judith Martin, the etiquette columnist known as “Miss Manners,” says, a wedding invitation is not an invoice. Yes, it’s a thoughtful gesture when people give. Nonetheless, be careful about your sense of entitlement whether it’s for a wedding or the holiday season.

I believe it’s our presence — not presents — that matters most.

You might wonder: Well, should the reader in return simply attend the wedding and wish the couple well?

If she doesn’t give a wedding gift in retribution, that’s being ill-mannered.

Just because you didn’t get doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give. And if a family member fails to give, be gracious and remember it really is better to give than to receive.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide

Better Philippines.. Go Federalism Now!

R oad to a new Republic of the Philippines
o nward to the era of Federalism government
d ays are gone when power is handled by the few
r ich pen become richer and the poor even poorer
i t's time our country will be run by a man with a vision
g overn the Philippines according to the will of the majority
on the basis of basic rights and privileges as local citizens.

R eal leader is someone who stands for the people
o n the realization of their basic needs and ambitions
and who leads by example and can implement the laws.

D uterte is the man of the hour
u nder Federalism form of government
t he local government can obtain bigger budget
e xtracted from its own income and tax collection
r ealistic projects of the LGU can be materialized
t hen better and faster urbanization will implemented
end the corruption and criminality, support the President!

I have some aches that are not fiction
so my doctor wrote a prescription

She sent it to the pharmacy near
so I can get my mind adhered

I went to pick it up today
assured that all would be ok

The pharmacy tech was really nice
but said I had to pay full price

It seems as though I was denied
my insurance claimed the doctor lied

All I wanted was to feel better
but now i'm shackled to this fetter

I pay my premium; my budget festers
while the insurance company pays their investors

I guess i'll wait another year
insanity comes closer, I fear.