it's a damn shame all of the threads have been nuked about ray & what he said....
i'm really bummed. i signed up for your site & was all ready to watch this bullshit drama unfold & low & behold - it's gone!
anyhow, last night i was thinking of some of the stories ray likes to tell.... figured i would share those. some of you may have heard them before!
1. There are always lots of stories where someone has died. his father supposedly died by getting shot in the head - his dad supposedly worked for the FBI and also the DEA and was a police officer. Daddy got shot because some random guatamalans didn't like that he had busted them for drugs, or something to that effect. Miraculously, Ray was able to save his mom from being raped (!!) and shot & killed the drug dealer/enforcer guys. This took place in Appleton, Wisc. He lost his virginity there, in Appleton, to his babysitter. He saw a cow fly & splatter all over a parking lot after a tornado while living there, too. His dad was buried in Arlington - where all of our war heros go. Because his dad was tops & great at his job, Ray has a security cleareance. He also can get into the Pentagon, natch. His connections to our government also have allowed him to bipass regular security at the airport - he just walks straight through - VIP style.
1A. THE TRUTH: Ray's father was a deadbeat & left Ray & his mom when he was a toddler. He never knew his birthfather, although they share a similar love for smoking pot. He never, ever lived in Wisconsin. He has only lived in Florida, Indiana, Michigan, & Oregon. His birth father is not dead.
2. I've heard a story about how David died when Ray was up shooting a movie in Canada. In Ray's stories - there is always someone who is the villian - this time, it was a friend of his who supposedly stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from him & the movie he was working on, ruining Ray's career. While he was embezziling this money - Ray's brother died, and Ray couldn't make it to the funeral.
2A. Ray's brother David is very much alive. No one stole money from the one & only film Ray worked on, although Ray did effectively kill the movie from coming out because he threw a bitch fit.
3. Ray said his sister was going to Northwestern & was also living in France. He stated that her college was paid for by him - naturally - & that they were super close.
3A. His sister never went to university - and certianly not Northwestern. She has never been to france.
3B. Ray would give girls kindereggs from "his sister in france" - those kinder eggs were actually stolen out of my refidgerator - they were sent to me by my best friend who does actually live in France.
4. Ray had an x cheat on him & give him an STD & then, also this same x - well, she was pregnant, & Ray was so happy to be a father - but it turned out, the baby wasn't even his! He was so heart broken that he barely got through that one. This took place in Flordia.... his x & him lived together & were engaged.
4A. Ray's x's have never cheated on him. He is the one who cheats & trolls various internet sites - Plentyoffish is his favorite - in order to find girls. He tends to go for girls who are single mothers, or girls who at the time he met them - are going through really rough life stuff. He gets the girls when they are down.
4B. Ray has had STD's to my knowledge. He never cured himself of chlamydia & instead liked to spread it around. His teeth are orange partly because of long term tetracycline treatments. It's a side effect.
4C. Babies... Did you know that Ray got a girl preggers? And that he hit this girl, stole over $2000 from her, & told her that they would be a family & he loved her & all of that? He convinced her that he would be a good father. He played with her other kids - who looked at him as a father figure. And then, one night... he just disappeared. He never came back. She tried to get ahold of him multiple times - online, through his phone.... & he wouldn't respond. Then one day he told her that she had better get a 'fucking abortion!'
4D. I should also mention that when his 'cheating x' gave him the STD's he was rendered infertile. Strange, because he is able to produce children.
5. Supernatural - yes, he worked on that! He directed episodes! He was on set all the time! And in Vancover during the Olympics. He will tell you tales about how awesome those two guys are & how he smoked weed with them & read crazy letters written by obsessive fans in their trailers. He can go on and on about supernatural.
5A. Never worked on Supernatural. Never has been to Vancover. Has yet to driect anything that has ever aired on TV.
5B. His set pictures to "prove" he was there come from an obsessive fan site.
5C. Notice, he is not listed in any of the credits. Notice, too for directing an episode - it isn't listed on IMDB.
6. 24 - yes, he also directed episodes in the last season of 24! Man, him & Kieffer totally got all crazy & went to bars. He lived in LA with 3 guys... I honestly tuned out when he talked about 24.
6A. Not listed anywhere for having done any work on 24. Clearly, he is full of it.
7. Let's see.... Movie's he worked on - Transformers, Transformers 3 (where the great heart attack took place), Captain America, Superman....
7A. Did not work on a single one. But did, actually make up a lot of stories about working on all of these films. Not listed in any credits. Not even as a lowly PA. There are some really hilarious stories that he came up with while he was living with me & working on "superman" & he even went so far as to go to Crate & Barrel & pick out furnature & get a book to order it all for his "trailer" - he had me help him pick it out. Also, he was supposed to live in Wicker Park - but he couldn't tell me where the house was. Off of the Damen stop from the L.
8. Oh Trailers! He supposedly got trailers in the mail all the time because he is a member of SAG.
He has also had major agents helping him to get jobs.
8A. His "trailers" are all downloaded from demonoid.
8B. His "agent" was one of the girls he was cheating on me with... there were two of us during this period of time that he would always come back to - both of us are listed in his phone as famous people - with our personal phone numbers.
9. Speilburg - totally loves him! They've spent oodles of time together! He's actually executive producing Ray's mini-series - Alas, Babylon.
9A. My phone number was listed as Spielburg's! Alas, Babylon has never been made. It was not being filmed in New Zealand & Timothy Olphant never signed on.
ARE YOU SEEING A PATTERN HERE PEOPLE?
10. the friend that he filmed with - the only real film he has ever worked on -- supposedly shot himself in the head in his car after he found out how much Ray was suing him for, because the movie didn't end up getting into all of the places it should have & Ray lost a ton of money.
10A. This friend is still alive & well & never stole any money. Ray even gave a fake interview with me there next to him while he was on his phone. My guess is that no one was ever on the phone. Hilarious, or Crazy - you decide.
11. Because Ray is such a big name in Hollywood - he has a plaque dedicated to him in his old high school. He was the only person from Plymouth, Indiana to ever make something of himself.
11A. No Plaque.
12. Batman! Yes, he was in the movie "the dark knight" & also was going to be directing the latest one. But then.... oh something happened - it's confusing & batman pulled out of michigan because of the film credits but.... oh wait.... and then, you see Superman & Batman share an office..... and..... oh wait are those all lies too?
13. Did you know that Ray was hired as the "offical" Florida photograther for the John Kerry campaign?
13A. I didn't either! While Ray meticiously uploads all of his photos to websites online, there are no photos from this "job."
14. Accidents... He broke his arm, he's had a heart attack, he's been bit not once but twice by brown recluses, he's broken his leg, he's broken his fingers - he's been in major car accidents, he's had brain injuries.....
14A. Yep. Guy is sadly, as healthy as a horse.
15. The military wanted him to be a drone pilot, because he displayed a certain "moral flexability" that they were looking for. When his mom was dying though, she made him PROMISE to not go into the military like his dead dad did. He decided not to kill people with drones.
15A. Moral flexibility is the only part in this story that is true.
16. When his grandma died, he donated all of her estate & the money that he inherated to build a children's orphanage because he cares about the kids! It's located in southren, il.
16. His grandma is still very much alive.
These are just the stories that I remember off the top of my head... Do let me know if you have heard any of them! I'll give him this - He is really creative!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Hello people from "shack news"
It has come to my attention that Ray Holycross has been talking shit about me online in your little forum. This is precious, really.
You can choose to believe what he says - which btw... he's good. Sociopaths are always good at what they do, or you can listen to the 30+ people he has fucked over. It's up to you. I could give a shit what you trolls think of me, but for the record -
Let me tell you all a few things....
1. Ray holycross lived with me for a total of seven months, last year. I flew him up to Michigan because he had been left in an airport. I knew him from previously hanging out with him & 'dating' if you want to call it that, seeing as i paid for everything.
2. During this time, he manipulated my family, stole credit cards - I have a copy of the police report that we filed if you want to see it, & racked up a total of over $4,000 dollars that was stolen out of my parents credit card account. This was supposed to be used for me to go to college. Speaking of college & university - He has never attended any university. Not Notre Dame, not Fullsail (he only showed up to classes & audited them) & certainly not any other place.
3. As for me being bipolar - I take meds, unlike Ray & am an upstanding member of my community. I work with many elected officals, the court system, the school systems around here & I am beyond politically active. You can choose to believe a guy who never, ever got any credits for his so called "work" on IMDB, or you can choose to believe those of us who have had him steal from us.
4. Have you people ever noticed that he is ALWAYS, ALWAYS a victim? Yeah, well, I've gone tons of his so called "accident" pictures on my computer. Stupid fucker uploaded his i-phone to my laptop. I've got enough shit on him to make him look pretty pathetic....
5. But he does a good job of that on his own. Upset that he left me? Please tell him not to flatter himself. I left him & then started the process of searching for the 30+ girls he was cheating on me with. A guy who treats women like that is not worth my time. But hey, I am crazy!
6. I don't fancy myself a writer of any sort. Notice how i haven't updated this blog until now? Yeah, there's a reason for that. I don't write. I work in politics & it takes up so much of my time that I don't have time to pour my heart out on the internet. This blog was started while I was dating that Piece of Shit so that I could keep track of all of the lies he told me.
7. HE NEVER HAD A HEART ATTACK. MY GOD. LOOK AT HIS FUCKING CHEST. NO scars, dude. No scars, & no, he doesn't take any meds. What he does do is pop pills, smoke pot & sleep - constantly. I have never known him to have a job - he uses girls for money, clothing, food - & when he can't do that because he has burned all the bridges in whatever town he finds himself in - He has his grandmother fly him somewhere else.
8. LOSS OF JOBS? Even more hilarious. I will give him credit in that he is good at what he does, but he has never, ever held down a job in the industry. Do a background check on him. Seriously. For the lolz. Because it is funny. No jobs - nothing.
9. Yes, I want him to live a miserable life. Why? Because he fucking stole my college money. Because he is spreading STD's all over the place. Because he is a revolting human being. I highly doubt he will be miserable any time soon - to be miserable one has to have a conscience & Ray Daniel Holycross doesn't have one of those.
10. Also, pay attention to how someone is always dead in his little tales of woe. His grandmother is alive, her name is Juanita Uhlig. His father was never killed - he never knew his birth father. His brother & sister are both living in Indiana. His mother did die from cancer, but he was nowhere around to help her nor did he care. He just plays that for sympathy. His step father is the one who adopted him - last name of Holycross. Said step dad wants nothing to do with him. I don't blame his family for not wanting to go near him. He is a person who wouldn't hesitate to hurt others to get his way.
11. He steals constantly. Watch your stuff. He really loves to steal big item electronics. If he actually had a job, he might pay for them. Ever wonder why he doesn't have a working phone number? That is because he has the cell phone because a girl bought it for him and then kicked him off her plan. The thing about Ray Daniel Holycross - is that he believes his own lies - so you very well may see him working on "work" for some lame superhero movie. BTW, those pictures he has to "prove" he works - all are able to be found on fan sites - They are not his.
12. As for my family & my brother - He is right that my brother is out to get him. And you know, I would like to thank my brother for that. I would also like to thank Mr. Holycross - He brought my brother & I closer. There's nothing like having the same enemy in common. My brother doesn't take too kindly to people like Ray. And... he got my mom's vindictive never let it go streak.
13. I suspect that most of you will continue to believe Ray's lies, but - keep the things i have said here in mind. He isn't that creative & once you know his game - well, he's easy as hell to figure out.
Also, Please tell him that I would love to see his ass attempt to sue me. You can't sue a person for the truth, and you can't sue them because you don't like what they are saying. You also can't sue them when you don't have a job, or a case. I never, ever got rid of a single thing that he put on my laptop. Ray Holycross is like the STD's he spreads around - he always comes back. Always.
Good luck dealing with him. He's unstable. Truly unstable.
I just think it's funny, at this point.
Very truly yours,
-c.
You can choose to believe what he says - which btw... he's good. Sociopaths are always good at what they do, or you can listen to the 30+ people he has fucked over. It's up to you. I could give a shit what you trolls think of me, but for the record -
Let me tell you all a few things....
1. Ray holycross lived with me for a total of seven months, last year. I flew him up to Michigan because he had been left in an airport. I knew him from previously hanging out with him & 'dating' if you want to call it that, seeing as i paid for everything.
2. During this time, he manipulated my family, stole credit cards - I have a copy of the police report that we filed if you want to see it, & racked up a total of over $4,000 dollars that was stolen out of my parents credit card account. This was supposed to be used for me to go to college. Speaking of college & university - He has never attended any university. Not Notre Dame, not Fullsail (he only showed up to classes & audited them) & certainly not any other place.
3. As for me being bipolar - I take meds, unlike Ray & am an upstanding member of my community. I work with many elected officals, the court system, the school systems around here & I am beyond politically active. You can choose to believe a guy who never, ever got any credits for his so called "work" on IMDB, or you can choose to believe those of us who have had him steal from us.
4. Have you people ever noticed that he is ALWAYS, ALWAYS a victim? Yeah, well, I've gone tons of his so called "accident" pictures on my computer. Stupid fucker uploaded his i-phone to my laptop. I've got enough shit on him to make him look pretty pathetic....
5. But he does a good job of that on his own. Upset that he left me? Please tell him not to flatter himself. I left him & then started the process of searching for the 30+ girls he was cheating on me with. A guy who treats women like that is not worth my time. But hey, I am crazy!
6. I don't fancy myself a writer of any sort. Notice how i haven't updated this blog until now? Yeah, there's a reason for that. I don't write. I work in politics & it takes up so much of my time that I don't have time to pour my heart out on the internet. This blog was started while I was dating that Piece of Shit so that I could keep track of all of the lies he told me.
7. HE NEVER HAD A HEART ATTACK. MY GOD. LOOK AT HIS FUCKING CHEST. NO scars, dude. No scars, & no, he doesn't take any meds. What he does do is pop pills, smoke pot & sleep - constantly. I have never known him to have a job - he uses girls for money, clothing, food - & when he can't do that because he has burned all the bridges in whatever town he finds himself in - He has his grandmother fly him somewhere else.
8. LOSS OF JOBS? Even more hilarious. I will give him credit in that he is good at what he does, but he has never, ever held down a job in the industry. Do a background check on him. Seriously. For the lolz. Because it is funny. No jobs - nothing.
9. Yes, I want him to live a miserable life. Why? Because he fucking stole my college money. Because he is spreading STD's all over the place. Because he is a revolting human being. I highly doubt he will be miserable any time soon - to be miserable one has to have a conscience & Ray Daniel Holycross doesn't have one of those.
10. Also, pay attention to how someone is always dead in his little tales of woe. His grandmother is alive, her name is Juanita Uhlig. His father was never killed - he never knew his birth father. His brother & sister are both living in Indiana. His mother did die from cancer, but he was nowhere around to help her nor did he care. He just plays that for sympathy. His step father is the one who adopted him - last name of Holycross. Said step dad wants nothing to do with him. I don't blame his family for not wanting to go near him. He is a person who wouldn't hesitate to hurt others to get his way.
11. He steals constantly. Watch your stuff. He really loves to steal big item electronics. If he actually had a job, he might pay for them. Ever wonder why he doesn't have a working phone number? That is because he has the cell phone because a girl bought it for him and then kicked him off her plan. The thing about Ray Daniel Holycross - is that he believes his own lies - so you very well may see him working on "work" for some lame superhero movie. BTW, those pictures he has to "prove" he works - all are able to be found on fan sites - They are not his.
12. As for my family & my brother - He is right that my brother is out to get him. And you know, I would like to thank my brother for that. I would also like to thank Mr. Holycross - He brought my brother & I closer. There's nothing like having the same enemy in common. My brother doesn't take too kindly to people like Ray. And... he got my mom's vindictive never let it go streak.
13. I suspect that most of you will continue to believe Ray's lies, but - keep the things i have said here in mind. He isn't that creative & once you know his game - well, he's easy as hell to figure out.
Also, Please tell him that I would love to see his ass attempt to sue me. You can't sue a person for the truth, and you can't sue them because you don't like what they are saying. You also can't sue them when you don't have a job, or a case. I never, ever got rid of a single thing that he put on my laptop. Ray Holycross is like the STD's he spreads around - he always comes back. Always.
Good luck dealing with him. He's unstable. Truly unstable.
I just think it's funny, at this point.
Very truly yours,
-c.
Friday, September 2, 2011
this bites.
I feel this isolation starting -
and i know that it is going to be trying,
rough, even, and that i am going to be tested,
in a lot of different ways & i am not thrilled.
i wish i had friends, like, people i could talk to. i just feel so ... detached.
not to mention bored.
there's so much to write about - about life, about trying to find a job, about politics & what a joke i sometimes feel it is, about interacting with my family, about watching movies & tv alone, about a lot of things.
I need to be busy. everyone else has started school, its fall and i am...
wasting away in my bedroom again.
i started emailing wim again, i guess because i miss him, and he is only words & he knows the real me, whoever that is - he knows me as a person, through the words that i write, and he is one of the few males in the world that i trust to tell me the truth, a person who won't feed me a line of shit. i miss our friendship. i wish he was more of a dreamer like me, but i like his being logical and slow and steady. he is who he is, i am who i am, and there will never be anything again, but i miss the idea. maybe that's it. i miss the idea of him. and i like our letters. maybe one day we will see one another again.
i am sitting here watching this lame wedding show feeling lame... great choice of wording. I can't sleep because i slept all day. wedding shows make me feel inept & behind in life. Like - these people, who are totally socially retarded - found someone to marry them... and i.... i can't find a person who is even remotely worth spending a month of my time with. No, seriously. I keep getting liars & thieves & instead of seeing it for what it is, i am oblivious. just wanting to believe that there's good in people.... but, no seriously - it's like when i go on facebook & i see that someone i know who is totally socially retarded & just... not someone i would expect to be in a functional relationship - is getting married;
and it makes me feel really fucking inept - socially, relationship wise, personally. i don't think that the things that i want in life are all that different from most people, and while i don't necessarily see myself married - i can envision myself in a functional relationship. i don't think that is asking too much. it really isn't.
instead,
i get an obsessive drug addict. who lies. because that is what they do. and when i try to date -
well that is a disaster. my god!
i just don't know what guys want. the ones that want me i sure as hell don't want.
the ones i am interested in, are briefly interested in me & then it's like.... over & i never know what the hell it was that i did that turned them off. this time i didn't even mention my actual life! i was late.. but i am always late.
i don't know.
i feel so lonely.
and i know i have to go through this, but god, i want to fast forward & be done already.
i want to move.
i want out.
i am so ready to be out.
and i feel like an asshole when i talk about other people, wanting what they have... or wondering point blank why the hell they have it.
ugh life is so hard.
it sucks.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
dreaming.
They tell me to listen to my dreams. And when I dream, I am usually a person watching in on myself, consious that I am dreaming, fully aware, wondering what it all means. Because I dream, I am. I wonder who I am becoming. I know a shift is arriving. I know I must take these steps, these very painful steps & I do not want to. I am fighting it, but I know that I have to. I know I will be in another hallow period, another desert period, so alone, so very alone. I know I must do this to get to where I need to be. That this will be like it was after the accidents, but different. That, I must in some way or another, go away. But I do not know where. I do not know what is in store. I only know that it is going to be difficult & that I must listen to all of the clues that are available to me.
& so i dream, and when i do, it is intense. it is intense & full on & like a movie. like many movies. what can i tell? bits and pieces, because it has been a good 12 hours since i woke up. but I will try.
I am living in Chicago. I am not thrilled about the fact that I live here, but I know that I must do it, that it is something that I need to resolve, almost prove - even. It is the fall, closer to winter and I am bundled up. In my head as I am dreaming I take note of this fact. That it is cold. I also take note of the fact that I am wearing very nice clothes. That, apparently, I am able to afford nice clothing - the type of clothing I have always wanted to have to express 'myself' - but have never been able to because I have never had the means to, the money. Inner me says (yes you have succeeded - yet, i am doubting it.) I am wearing a very expensive black coat, and black boots. Professional. I know already in the dream who I am working for. Inner me is doubting this has happened. A voice, my guides, it must be, tell me that I have earned this. That I have worked for it, and that I am smart enough & intelligent enough. Yet I still doubt.
I rush across to a store - It's an expensive one. I need a new dress or something. I am not paying attention, but I sense him immediately. I have been dreading this since I have moved here. I look up. Our eyes meet. He can't believe what he sees. Which is that (and i am able to read his mind in the dream - I am successful, not a drug addict, that i am doing so well for myself, that i look so good.) I don't say anything, just continue to do my shopping. Apparently he works there. I find this odd, and also sad. I collect my things - the things I want to try on. His eyes follow me. I pay him no mind. I have a lot to do, a lot to do back at the office. I need to get this done quickly. I go to the dressing room, where I meet this woman -
she has black hair, curly black hair & very bright red lipstick. she fawns over me like i am someone special (and maybe i am?) but i know that she is not a good person. I get a bad vibe off of her immediately. I play the game however. I go to the dressing room & try on my clothes. I am not really into anything. There is something about a red dress.
I loose my boots, or i go to buy boots. I don't remember. there are a lot of parts of the dream that involve the location of the store, because i think at some point i ended up back there. the woman becomes important later on.
I end up buying the dress & he waits on me. our eyes meet. i don't say anything. he doesn't either. I buy the dress. a simple transaction. I want to cry, at how cold it all is. at how cold and shallow the relationship has become. at how much fucking hurt exists. how could two people love & hate so much? and have so many years go on in between? I take my things & I tear up. I walk out.
It is starting to snow, and I am walking up to a building, a very old one, almost like union station but not. It is where I work. I can hear him in my head. I know he is following me, but I am ignoring it. In my head in my dream I am wondering why i am ignoring him. In life i would never do that. I'd never be so cold.
We are having a press conference & I run inside. The dream doesn't show nor tell me what i do, but i know who i work for. It is all politics & it is hard, but i love my job. I am good at it. Something reassures me that this is what i need to do. I see marletta at the confrence. She nods her approval at me, silently. Marletta the silent judge. I know that whatever i have done is a good thing. The dream skips & I am watching the press & I am standing shivering. I see him watching me work.
He comes up to me. Finally. We talk. But it isn't all forgiveness and roses. There is much more snow. Something about the football stadium. Small talk. What has gone on in our lives. He asks if I want to come to his place. I say okay.
We stop by the store, and that is when i learn that he is basically an owner. He runs it, but that, in some way, he is not a good person. It is hard to describe. He has a vibe to him that is like that of a wall street banker. at the store the woman with the hair & the lips flips out. she flips out on him and me. prior, it is revealed in some sort of flash back that she had offered me a job. I had said no. There is also some sort of other flash back -
the dream diverges for a bit -
I am looking for these guys in a hispanic part of town. I am in some sort of teen center, a rehab or something. Matt Davis is there. I am now 17 again. We are so deeply in love. In the dream i can feel that joy, that emotion, that i haven't felt since i was that young - what it was like to truly love someone in a way that is so pure & naive because you don't know what it will feel like to experience heart break so you don't put up a wall, you don't also protect yourself. Matt & I hold one another a lot. We kiss. Sometimes we are at work, at Tower Records instead of Record Town. And then, one day, Matt is gone. I am at a loss. I feel such pain in the dream. It is a kind of pain that is like death. (inner me is trying to tell me something, but i have no clue what it is)
And then suddenly I am with him again. We are at his house. It is this weird mosoluem thing. A fortress. It is like a church, but also a masonic temple thing, something he had to do to join, and you wouldn't know that people lived there. He lives in number 6. It opens when he walks up to it. It is then that i understand how powerful he has become, spiritually. Inside his house, there are all of these luxiourious things. I am facinated but i can't figure it out. I don't get a feeling that he is bad, but there is something not right.
There is some sort of weird sex thing going on too, but not with me... just other people that are there.
He & I, and his boyfriend go out to eat at some weird thai place. It turns into a strange meal. I end up following him in a car. There is something about how we can't get back to the house because they are filming in the downtown. What are they filming? The walking dead. Zombies. (there is symbolism here, not to be missed) We are stopped in traffic. At some point I actually get out of the car to watch the shoot. I tell him about Ray and the now hilarious story of his "directing an episode of the walking dead" & we actually both laugh.
Our eyes meet & then, all of a sudden - it's back. That... ability that we had in our real life, in real waking life, to communicate, telepathically. that ability that i have never had with anyone else & that i suspect i will never have again. In the dream, i can't tell what we are saying to one another, i only know that we are having a whole conversation.
And then, instead of being at his house, i end up in a car, with this jewish family. And i am on the way to their house in skokie. It takes forever. They are complaining about whether or not to go to Isreal or Turkey for thanksgiving. I tell them they are so very lucky to have the options. That i would like to be able to go to either. They don't understand that I am poor. In this dream I am not the same person. I arrive at their house, finally, and it is a castle. there are two girls who live there. an evevator. it is dectorated like a serious medevil castle, and the evvator keeps not working. the girls keep judging me & i am uncomfortable. finally we get out, to find their mom. There is a woman with a baby there. It is Milena. she hands me the baby & walks away. The girls find me, and the mother comes & talks to me. We talk about goth kids of all things, and I play dress up & put feathers in my hair. I do not get the feeling that this dream was trying to tell me much of anything.
And then, I am in a car. Devyn, is there. And a whole other family, And we are in a plane too. The plane is huge, and you have to go row by row and it is like a zig zag. Karin is there & Fab & they aren't talking & so is my family & each person has a private tv. I loose my luggage. I loose Karin. And My family. I don't really care. I am just crying (and inner me is emotional) because my family has given me the gift of a plane ticket to Paris. For some reason this is very important to me. I find Fab, and also Wim. Only, the plane ride isn't safe. Something is wrong. I am very afraid.
Then I am looking for Daire but can't find her, I am in france or something.
Only I am back in the united states, and I am in a car, but i can't fall asleep. I know that if i do i will die. I am sitting on a park bench but this bench is the car. A semi truck is driving all crazy, and i am in between the two. I have to hold on for my life & I am pretty sure I will be crushed to death (but yet inside i know it will be okay, death will be okay) and somehow i am not.
And instead, I am somewhere, on a highway, walking
and i have my period and it is gushing between my legs. It is embarassing because there are guys who are with me who i guess i want to impress but in the dream i also know that i could give a shit. I only have one tampon. I am on a highway, it's like the apocolypse happened & what the fuck am i supposed to do about being on the rag? so i bleed, as nature intended. But the bleeding is intense & it hurts. I am walking down the road, and then, i am picked up by a really expensive car, with these big time rappers. We are being shot at. The highway is all torn up & there are airplanes that have crashed that are all over.
I wake up.
My dad is yelling at me to get up because I have to take him to the hospital.
There are some other random things that i can't place but remember -
like
-greer's film being done, in black & white & something about a red rose being in it.
-walking in a bad part of chicago & having a guy pull up in a shitty car (he is african american) & ask me if i have change for a dollar while he leers at me. I don't have change for a dollar. I get the feeling he thinks I am a hooker. I walk away in the snow. As i walk further down, another woman, also african american, tells me "girl, you just fucked up, that was (blah blah blah - i dont remember his name now, in the dream he had a name) & (blah blah). I don't know who these men are. I give her a blank look. She says "the biggest rappers in chicago? since Kanye?" I shrug. They picked up another girl further down the street. apparently they were recording what they were doing & it was live on the air on the radio and the girl that gave them change got to go out for a night on the town & was treated like a queen & all of that. In this dream, also, I am not white. I am also poor.
and those were my intense dreams.
i am wondering what they all mean.
I wanted to write him a letter, against my better judgement.
but i didn't. there is no use. they told me not to do it. they told me he has served his purpose in my life & that now he is only a representation of something else. like matt. but what? what does he mean...?
& so i dream, and when i do, it is intense. it is intense & full on & like a movie. like many movies. what can i tell? bits and pieces, because it has been a good 12 hours since i woke up. but I will try.
I am living in Chicago. I am not thrilled about the fact that I live here, but I know that I must do it, that it is something that I need to resolve, almost prove - even. It is the fall, closer to winter and I am bundled up. In my head as I am dreaming I take note of this fact. That it is cold. I also take note of the fact that I am wearing very nice clothes. That, apparently, I am able to afford nice clothing - the type of clothing I have always wanted to have to express 'myself' - but have never been able to because I have never had the means to, the money. Inner me says (yes you have succeeded - yet, i am doubting it.) I am wearing a very expensive black coat, and black boots. Professional. I know already in the dream who I am working for. Inner me is doubting this has happened. A voice, my guides, it must be, tell me that I have earned this. That I have worked for it, and that I am smart enough & intelligent enough. Yet I still doubt.
I rush across to a store - It's an expensive one. I need a new dress or something. I am not paying attention, but I sense him immediately. I have been dreading this since I have moved here. I look up. Our eyes meet. He can't believe what he sees. Which is that (and i am able to read his mind in the dream - I am successful, not a drug addict, that i am doing so well for myself, that i look so good.) I don't say anything, just continue to do my shopping. Apparently he works there. I find this odd, and also sad. I collect my things - the things I want to try on. His eyes follow me. I pay him no mind. I have a lot to do, a lot to do back at the office. I need to get this done quickly. I go to the dressing room, where I meet this woman -
she has black hair, curly black hair & very bright red lipstick. she fawns over me like i am someone special (and maybe i am?) but i know that she is not a good person. I get a bad vibe off of her immediately. I play the game however. I go to the dressing room & try on my clothes. I am not really into anything. There is something about a red dress.
I loose my boots, or i go to buy boots. I don't remember. there are a lot of parts of the dream that involve the location of the store, because i think at some point i ended up back there. the woman becomes important later on.
I end up buying the dress & he waits on me. our eyes meet. i don't say anything. he doesn't either. I buy the dress. a simple transaction. I want to cry, at how cold it all is. at how cold and shallow the relationship has become. at how much fucking hurt exists. how could two people love & hate so much? and have so many years go on in between? I take my things & I tear up. I walk out.
It is starting to snow, and I am walking up to a building, a very old one, almost like union station but not. It is where I work. I can hear him in my head. I know he is following me, but I am ignoring it. In my head in my dream I am wondering why i am ignoring him. In life i would never do that. I'd never be so cold.
We are having a press conference & I run inside. The dream doesn't show nor tell me what i do, but i know who i work for. It is all politics & it is hard, but i love my job. I am good at it. Something reassures me that this is what i need to do. I see marletta at the confrence. She nods her approval at me, silently. Marletta the silent judge. I know that whatever i have done is a good thing. The dream skips & I am watching the press & I am standing shivering. I see him watching me work.
He comes up to me. Finally. We talk. But it isn't all forgiveness and roses. There is much more snow. Something about the football stadium. Small talk. What has gone on in our lives. He asks if I want to come to his place. I say okay.
We stop by the store, and that is when i learn that he is basically an owner. He runs it, but that, in some way, he is not a good person. It is hard to describe. He has a vibe to him that is like that of a wall street banker. at the store the woman with the hair & the lips flips out. she flips out on him and me. prior, it is revealed in some sort of flash back that she had offered me a job. I had said no. There is also some sort of other flash back -
the dream diverges for a bit -
I am looking for these guys in a hispanic part of town. I am in some sort of teen center, a rehab or something. Matt Davis is there. I am now 17 again. We are so deeply in love. In the dream i can feel that joy, that emotion, that i haven't felt since i was that young - what it was like to truly love someone in a way that is so pure & naive because you don't know what it will feel like to experience heart break so you don't put up a wall, you don't also protect yourself. Matt & I hold one another a lot. We kiss. Sometimes we are at work, at Tower Records instead of Record Town. And then, one day, Matt is gone. I am at a loss. I feel such pain in the dream. It is a kind of pain that is like death. (inner me is trying to tell me something, but i have no clue what it is)
And then suddenly I am with him again. We are at his house. It is this weird mosoluem thing. A fortress. It is like a church, but also a masonic temple thing, something he had to do to join, and you wouldn't know that people lived there. He lives in number 6. It opens when he walks up to it. It is then that i understand how powerful he has become, spiritually. Inside his house, there are all of these luxiourious things. I am facinated but i can't figure it out. I don't get a feeling that he is bad, but there is something not right.
There is some sort of weird sex thing going on too, but not with me... just other people that are there.
He & I, and his boyfriend go out to eat at some weird thai place. It turns into a strange meal. I end up following him in a car. There is something about how we can't get back to the house because they are filming in the downtown. What are they filming? The walking dead. Zombies. (there is symbolism here, not to be missed) We are stopped in traffic. At some point I actually get out of the car to watch the shoot. I tell him about Ray and the now hilarious story of his "directing an episode of the walking dead" & we actually both laugh.
Our eyes meet & then, all of a sudden - it's back. That... ability that we had in our real life, in real waking life, to communicate, telepathically. that ability that i have never had with anyone else & that i suspect i will never have again. In the dream, i can't tell what we are saying to one another, i only know that we are having a whole conversation.
And then, instead of being at his house, i end up in a car, with this jewish family. And i am on the way to their house in skokie. It takes forever. They are complaining about whether or not to go to Isreal or Turkey for thanksgiving. I tell them they are so very lucky to have the options. That i would like to be able to go to either. They don't understand that I am poor. In this dream I am not the same person. I arrive at their house, finally, and it is a castle. there are two girls who live there. an evevator. it is dectorated like a serious medevil castle, and the evvator keeps not working. the girls keep judging me & i am uncomfortable. finally we get out, to find their mom. There is a woman with a baby there. It is Milena. she hands me the baby & walks away. The girls find me, and the mother comes & talks to me. We talk about goth kids of all things, and I play dress up & put feathers in my hair. I do not get the feeling that this dream was trying to tell me much of anything.
And then, I am in a car. Devyn, is there. And a whole other family, And we are in a plane too. The plane is huge, and you have to go row by row and it is like a zig zag. Karin is there & Fab & they aren't talking & so is my family & each person has a private tv. I loose my luggage. I loose Karin. And My family. I don't really care. I am just crying (and inner me is emotional) because my family has given me the gift of a plane ticket to Paris. For some reason this is very important to me. I find Fab, and also Wim. Only, the plane ride isn't safe. Something is wrong. I am very afraid.
Then I am looking for Daire but can't find her, I am in france or something.
Only I am back in the united states, and I am in a car, but i can't fall asleep. I know that if i do i will die. I am sitting on a park bench but this bench is the car. A semi truck is driving all crazy, and i am in between the two. I have to hold on for my life & I am pretty sure I will be crushed to death (but yet inside i know it will be okay, death will be okay) and somehow i am not.
And instead, I am somewhere, on a highway, walking
and i have my period and it is gushing between my legs. It is embarassing because there are guys who are with me who i guess i want to impress but in the dream i also know that i could give a shit. I only have one tampon. I am on a highway, it's like the apocolypse happened & what the fuck am i supposed to do about being on the rag? so i bleed, as nature intended. But the bleeding is intense & it hurts. I am walking down the road, and then, i am picked up by a really expensive car, with these big time rappers. We are being shot at. The highway is all torn up & there are airplanes that have crashed that are all over.
I wake up.
My dad is yelling at me to get up because I have to take him to the hospital.
There are some other random things that i can't place but remember -
like
-greer's film being done, in black & white & something about a red rose being in it.
-walking in a bad part of chicago & having a guy pull up in a shitty car (he is african american) & ask me if i have change for a dollar while he leers at me. I don't have change for a dollar. I get the feeling he thinks I am a hooker. I walk away in the snow. As i walk further down, another woman, also african american, tells me "girl, you just fucked up, that was (blah blah blah - i dont remember his name now, in the dream he had a name) & (blah blah). I don't know who these men are. I give her a blank look. She says "the biggest rappers in chicago? since Kanye?" I shrug. They picked up another girl further down the street. apparently they were recording what they were doing & it was live on the air on the radio and the girl that gave them change got to go out for a night on the town & was treated like a queen & all of that. In this dream, also, I am not white. I am also poor.
and those were my intense dreams.
i am wondering what they all mean.
I wanted to write him a letter, against my better judgement.
but i didn't. there is no use. they told me not to do it. they told me he has served his purpose in my life & that now he is only a representation of something else. like matt. but what? what does he mean...?
the never ending battle for my heart
so i am wandering the maze that is the Scandinavian furniture shopping mall that is more or less 5 miles long looking for storage shit, wasting time and trying not to think about how my life has gone to shit (because it has, its pretty bad right now) and my shopping cart runs into this guy, and he looks like you, god, he looks so much like you, and our eyes meet and i wanted to run up and hug him, tell him how much i have missed him & tell him how fucking shitty everything is right now & how the week before everything seemed so damn great & then i fell off the cliff... my eyes look down.
he's not you, of course. but, god, he looks so much like you & his cart is all full of the same sort of things i have picked out, and then, i hear him speak, and he has an accent like yours, i am not even joking, and the hairs on my arm stand on end, and i just stand there in a time warp, because it's like,
all of these parallel moments, quantum physics and what have you and if choice a had led to d instead of c & could that have ever been you & i shopping for furniture or am i just being all stupid in my head and wishing for things i just know i can never have. i am paused, thinking about this and trying to not cry, because it's been an emotional week for me & i am holding this fucking candle holder, staring at it, when his asian girlfriend comes up to him all dressed like me, and i think to myself;
god, life has a way of torturing me.
i take my cart, and i move around the maze, because ikea is just this rat maze of cheap furniture, you know, cheap furniture for all of these women who are pregnant, i am one of the few who is not, who is single, bitterly single & angry & wondering what the fuck i am doing in the middle of suburban Illinois on a sunday with only fifty bucks at this place.... trying to ignore my fate, i guess. i was invited by a guy who is a photographer, a recent friend of mine, who didn't want to go alone, who i am going to, at some point, do a photoshoot with, but he is of course, on his own ikea mission for his furniture for his apartment. i am still living at home in my parents house. not a lot has changed, but everything has changed. i am so different as a person. very much ready to move on.
i find myself in the children's department, my original goal for being there to get my brother a nightlight for his birthday, like one of the little toys you and i both like. it lights up and changes colors and mood & it reminded me of his house which i have finally visited & my brother is angry and not doing well either so i figured a goofy toy that lights up would make a good birthday present because i always give him useless toys that i don't think he quite understands. i look at the stuffed animals, and as i am staring at them, i find, of all things, a stuffed rat.
ratty rat rat. the rat race. aren't we all living in it? i think. ironic that its a children's toy. i pick up a medium sized black one for $2.99. it is sitting on my bed right now as i type this. he doesn't have a name. i move my cart and who do i run into, but doppleganger you. our eyes meet again. shift down. pretend we don't see one another. keep on going with the maze. he with his girlfriend, and me with my haunted thoughts of you.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Paging Patrick Bateman....
I just finished going through the majority of photographs I have that Ray Holycross left on my computer. It's hard to not feel horrible about myself & my own stupidity after going through such blatant evidence of disrespect towards me as a human being. I saw so many girls & yet - not a single picture of me existed. There were pictures of things we had done together but me, I don't exist. I shouldn't feel like shit over this, but it is hurtful none the less.
How does a person nullify the feelings that are left after a sociopath has tormented them? After the sociopath has torn a part of who they are apart....? I fear I may need to go into therapy to try to figure out why I let someone like him into my life. He was not the first time I have danced with the devil. And all this time, I thought that I was getting better. That I am a better person than I used to be. I know this is true, that I am a better person, a kinder person - but... It doesn't do much to help how my ego feels. My ego feels bruised and broken & I feel like I can never be enough for anyone. And was it so wrong, of me, to want to have a lover who was successful in life? To want a better life than I have & to expect that maybe, somehow, i could attract someone who wasn't a drug addict or a loser or lazy or a total piece of shit? I thought that I had found that in him. Instead, it turned out that he is, by far, the worst person I have ever come across in my life. Well, No, He's the second worst, perhaps even the third. There is also nicholas & a.j. - two other beings that should be wiped off the face of the earth.
I'm not sure why looking at all of those photos upset me so much. I didn't love Ray. I was to an extent, in love with the idea of him - the idea he had created, but, him as a person - not at all. We didn't even have a relationship. He took from me like a parasite & I allowed it because I am weak. I am too nice. I need to learn to have a backbone.
He scares me though. I am always double checking where I am and who is around me & I am always looking to make sure I have an exit. He has brought back a lot of the PTSD i can't seem to get rid of. Anxiety attacks happen a lot now. For no reason. Just out of the blue. I do, worry that he will come out here & harm me, or one of the other girls. He has no morals, no conscience. We are all just pawns in his little game that he plays to keep himself amused. The worst part is - there is no recourse for someone like him. None of us will ever get justice, or our money back, or our stolen items. He will continue to do what he has done to others (that i haven't found out about yet) & he will get away with it. Lets say, though, hypothetically that we are able to put a stop to him... then what? he goes away to jail or something for a little bit & then he gets out & god only knows how much he will hate us. He ruined B's life for far less. He's managed to fuck up my life pretty good.... & for what? I was nice & kind & generous & so was my family.
But that's the thing - you can not use logic or the normal human rules when you are dealing with a sociopath. Everything you know is false. These people are defective. We should honestly throw them on a horrible island & let them kill each other for sport.
4% of humans are sociopaths. It averages out to 1 in 25 Americans. This is far more than schizophrenics (ha & i've run across three of those in my life), anorexics (& i was one of those forever... & now i am fat), far more than we would ever think to imagine. When I read the statistics on sociopaths I flipped out. No wonder I have encountered two of them. Apparently they are everywhere!
I've been reading this book "the sociopath next door" which has proven to be really amazing & useful. It describes Ray Holycross to the T. I have so many sticky notes in the damn book that you would think that I am going to write a thesis. Hell, maybe i should. I don't think there is a memoir out yet about what all of us have gone through. Maybe I should write about him. Although i have no idea where I would start. But... i want to start writing again.... i used to be so great at it. Maybe there's a memoir workshop i can take or something. I need to earn back that 4 grand that Ray took from me... so i can go back to school.
sigh. i wish i had kept an accurate diary during this period. thankfully i was mostly sober nearly all of the time & not abusing pills or doing anything stupid so what is left of my memory is still in tact.
Maybe I should just continue to write in here... and say fuck it about privacy & the secrets I shouldn't tell. Who cares. Ray helped ruin what good things I had going for me by stealing from people I know. God, I feel so trapped. I want to flee this area so desperately but I can't even get a job. The one i had i lost once she found out about what happened with ray. I think she thought I would steal from her too. Or, at the very least that I am nuts & have too much baggage. Regardless, it sucks.
I spoke to my family about returning to school... but again, to pull this off i need to have a job. to leave this hell hole i need to go to school. i can't find a job & my student loan is defaulting and so i can't get any loans to go to school. the money my mother shelled out to ray was supposed to go to pay off my loan. Instead she handed him money like he was her kid & i was the one who was sucking off of the family like a goddamn leech. That is a whole other thing - what went down with my mom. I am still so upset about all of that.
Ugh.... it appears like the more i write what i am thinking the more i realize that i seriously need to see a therapist to heal from this mess. i am so unhappy right now. my work quit.... & i was scammed.... & taken advantage of because I am nice.... so many people have done that to me in these past few months. If i am honest with myself - I feel somewhat suicidal & that is scary. Not because of anyone or anything - I just don't feel like I have much left in me to fight against everything. If i am feeling this way already, during the summer, i can only imagine how bad it is going to be when winter hits. It doesn't help that i am dating someone who is more like my child than my boyfriend... things were great for a few weeks & then everything went right back to how it was when i broke up with him. I always feel like i am responsible for his entertainment. And i have to constantly ask for help. He will just watch me instead of actually helping me. At first, i was just hooking up with him because I wanted to get laid. After 7 months of no physical affection - & somehow Ray tried to tell me that he loved me & we were in a great relationship! ha - anyhow, after 7 months of no physical affection, no touching, no love, no FUCKING sex... (redundant i know) I needed to take care of some business. He was around & I had an itch that needed to be scratched & he knows how to scratch that itch particularly well. But - I didn't expect to end up back in a relationship with him. especially after.... well, after the fact that he has yet to do anything as far as the rules go - that i asked of him. But - if i break up with him, i will have basically no friends at all - because he is my best friend, my only friend here really. I don't count the people i work with when it comes to politics although some of them are my friends & i care for them - but what i mean to say is - they aren't my peers. They are all adults who have had kids - many who have children my age. There will always be this weird thing where i won't feel like an equal & they will parent me. And i don't mind being parented by those that i like - it's just... it makes me feel like the eternal child.
There are things I want to do, art wise.. and things I want to explore... emotionally. There are so many things I want to learn. Right now I feel so stagnant. Even if i get the internship with Obama - I still will need to figure out a way to pay for what i will be doing. And... i find that with all of this bullshit - republicans not being able to tolerate democrats and democrats not tolerating republicans & this fake outrage all of the time - I find that my passion for politics has gone down. Just in my experience alone it has been a place filled with really amazing, wonderful people & then also, horrible people, horrible icky icky people who are power hungry & in love with themselves. I want to help make the world a better place & i don't know if politics is the way to do that. But if i go to school i will major in political science & minor in social work.... and maybe, maybe do a double major or something. I'd like to do that. I'd like to learn a foreign language. I would like to travel. I would love to learn how to play an instrument. Marnie said she would give me a violin to learn on but then she got sick. I'd like to learn how to use a decent synth so that i can make music. I'd like to design my own clothing & learn how to sew. I'd like to write a book. I'd like to learn how to paint. I need a creative outlet. I don't have one & it is stifling. I'd like to go back to reading poetry on open mic night. Id like to put to words what i have been feeling inside lately. i'd like to paint that, too. And make music of it.
I don't know... going through those photographs, i could trace all of my past mistakes with Ray Holycross. I was able to make a rough time line. & the thing is - there are some girls that he appears to care about or be more fond of than others. Those are the girls who show up in the pictures. I wonder why he ever even bothered with me. I don't mean that in a self deprecating way, i just wonder what he wanted to get from me. If my mom hadn't gotten her inheritance there wouldn't have been any money so i am sure he would have bounced by the middle of january. But for two months or so he stayed here, with me, in my bed & we watched battlestar & we laughed & we watched politics & we went to my political events together & he got to know everyone who is important to me. During those two months he said he was "healing" from his heart attack (which never happened btw.. there is no scar & i don't know what the motivation was for making up that story) he slept a lot - i mean a lot & he ended up smoking a lot - i mean A LOT of pot. I questioned all of this, you know, since he supposedly was on death's door. When I asked him what happened, when he technically "died" he told me nothing. That,btw, is not what happens when you technically die. At least that wasn't what happened to me. I actually remember very vividly my experiences. That however, is another entry. Anyway, he really milked that heart attack story. He needed to appear vulnerable & worthy of pity. When i asked him, as time went on, for more details - he couldn't give me any. Then Mikey had his graduation... & supposedly this was a big deal because he could drink again (except you know, that he had been drinking the whole time when he went into chicago.. but i didn't know that) so he gets so wasted that he can't walk really & he pukes all over my brother's spare bedroom floor. It was disgusting. I was already in bed asleep because the drinks were really strong & i am a lightweight who knows when to call it quits. He got into bed with me & he kept asking me if I loved him, If i would be with him forever, If I really loved him... He didn't say anything about how he loved me - nothing of the sort. It was as is typical for Ray holycross - all about him. Then he tried to touch me - or whatever, and well... he had limp dick. I remember touching it and holding it in my hands and being revolted. So, there I am with my hand around his squishy cock & all of a sudden i hear him snoring. I was like.... "youve got to be kidding me..." but no, it was really happening. He had taken off his shirt though, which he never did around me & i knew - I knew there was a reason, which was that you know, his big massive heart attack wasn't real. I knew he was out so i took my phone & used the illumination to look at Ray's chest.
There was... no fucking scar. I remember flipping out. I remember my chest pounding & feeling like i was going to throw up. That...the suspicion i had, along with my mother & Daire (good ol daire fucking calls all of these guys out as soon as she meets them....) was actually true. That was a mindfuck.
I laid in the bed, with him taking up most of it, i should add, listening to him snoring... thinking about how i had been lied to. I thought about the sheer audacity of it. I thought about how, next to me, there was this person who had been totally lying to me for months. And how, he refused to have sex with me - citing his heart attack... only to find out that he was sleeping with more girls than i can keep track of while we were together.... anyway, i laid there & i thought about how I should just leave him stranded in Detroit. How great that would feel. Fuck you later... but i didn't want to cause a scene the very first time i was at my brother's house. I remember how i was already getting my hangover (because i have one kidney, i get the hangover midway through being drunk & i become miserable) & my head was pounding. I watched the sun come up in my brother's suburban neighborhood trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. I was in disbelief but inside of me, i knew he was full of shit. he couldn't give me details about his surgery. he couldn't tell me who the doctor even was, or what hospital it had been done in. He also told me that the hospital had a dvd rental thing while he was there so he rented dexter while he was 'healing.' I've never heard of any hospital having an inner system dvd rental place & i have been in some really nice hospitals. Again, i would just let it slide because... whenever i asked a question or stood up for myself or even got a bit close to the truth & calling him on it, he would insult me & tell me i was being a bitch or paranoid or that i was a drama queen. he would tell me that he hates fights but that i made him get into them. yes, i started the fights by asking him real questions - which came from a place of love & concern - and the thanks i got was being told that i was, more or less worthless, stupid, annoying & a drama queen. When i brought up the fact that if he had had a heart attack he should have nitro pills on him - everyone gets them, it's standard medicine he just looked at me like i was speaking in an alien tongue. When I asked if i could come with to his 'check up' he balked. When i would rag on him for smoking cigarettes constantly he would tell me that i needed to quit being such a nag. But seriously, who has a heart attack & then chain smokes every day afterwards?
do you have a guess?
DING DING
RAY HOLYCROSS does. because there was no heart attack.
so, i asked my brother if he would go out with me to lunch/dinner so we could hangout & talk. we left & while eating thai at my favorite thai place in ann arbor, i told my brother what i saw. my brother looked up the surgery online (he told me he had a defibrillator put in... others he told that he had open heart surgery) & it turns out that the procedure doesn't leave huge scars because they just put the defib into your heart via your arteries or veins ( i forget which it is) and so, that had to be the explanation... & it was dark & so i couldn't get a great look but.... anyway, my brother calmed me down & tried to tell me that i was being paranoid.
that was the first & last time i would get to see ray's chest... unless you count the photos he took of himself while beating off in my bathroom & in my brother's room. I wonder if, had i asked to see his scars - because when i would ask about his heart & when i got that look on my face (my facial expressions are very transparent - you can read what i am thinking by looking at my face) he would say "what, do you want to see my scar?" and i would say... yes. or sometimes no, that is quite alright. But, i wonder if i had pushed the subject further if he would have actually cut himself up & sewed himself shut for the sake of the story. what do you think?
My brother did his best to reassure me that Ray was not lying to me, nor was he a piece of shit. We both bonded over the fact that we weren't getting laid, amongst other things. My brother really liked Ray... until he didn't. when all of the shit hit the fan, my brother wasn't the least bit surprised. i wonder if that is because mikey was already looking into him.
The way home was horrible because there was a really bad snowstorm & to top it off i had to pretend like i didn't know that he was a liar. I did good though - i mean, he didn't notice that i was unhappy & contemplating what to do.
And then I got home & he was all affectionate (he had to be, i suspect he knew what i was thinking & how close he was to being thrown out) and we resumed our routine. The truth is also that i didn't want to be left alone in my room with no one to talk to. Did i mention how hard it is for me to find real friends? yeah, its pretty impossible.
I want to make one thing clear though - which is that Ray holycross is good. he will have you believing that you are whatever he says you are.... a bitch, oversensitive, unappreciative - whatever it is, he can manipulate you into believing that you are the one who is in the wrong. He is that good. But his eyes, those eyes are cold. The other thing i want to state is that, Ray has not broken me or destroyed me. I do, however, feel like it would be a good idea to see a professional about what happened because they would be best equipped to help me understand why i let someone like him into my life & why i continued to tolerate everything even though i knew in my heart of hearts that he was cheating on me & that he was mearly using me. I want to know why his not feeling affectionate towards me - why he never took pictures of me - like i am... someone to be shunned - i want to know why it upsets me as much as it does. why does it make me feel gross & ugly & ugh all of the shit that my brain will yammer out when i don't feel too awesome about myself. i need to know where this comes from. because logically - i should not give a fuck! but emotionally.... it hurts.
& all of this hurt - I have no one i can talk to about it. I can talk to Rachel because we are pretty much in the same boat - but i mean, i can't talk to anyone who is physically in my life. If i try to talk about it with wynn his eyes just glaze over like they do when i am talking about politics. that says a lot about our future, doesn't it? I want to know why i feel so hurt by all of this & why there is some part of me that still cares or is somehow trapped into thinking that my worth is somehow connected with how he sees me. and that maybe, he sees me as all of the things i see in myself when i am in my shadow self mode.
The upside is, however, that i am in very good company. So far i have liked all of the girls & guys that i have met because of this mess. At least he can pick cool people to hang out with. I do hope that I will be able to make lasting friendships with everyone. I would love to have some sort of "ray holycross fucked us over" kind of outing/gathering. like a family reunion for people who are all victims of the same smelly fat faced sociopath.
my god, did he smell. i told him he needed to wash his clothes & bathe himself & it was like... he enjoyed the funk. I think, partly that he enjoyed making my room smell like him - leaving his scent like a mammal does to declare territory.
Right so...another thing - he was obsessed with Dexter. thinking about how he has the capability to totally flip the fuck out - & kill someone - all of those late night viewings of Dexter put me at unease. Really... really uneasy.
If you are a victim of Ray Holycross & you are reading this - The entry you want where i explain what he does & who he really is - is the entry that is in June. When confronted about that entry that entry & its accusations - he said that i was just another jealous butthurt xgirlfriend. Right. Honey I am more than hurt, i am full of rage.
I should also state that that entry - which liz has been referring people to (hi!) is a copy of a letter i wrote & sent to his email a few days after our final fight - which wasn't so much a fight as it was me saying dont ever come back & don't you dare think you will get anymore money from us... I sent that letter. I didn't get a response, of course.
It should be noted though that i know for a fact he has read the entry below. That is the one that isn't pages long ramblings.
How does a person nullify the feelings that are left after a sociopath has tormented them? After the sociopath has torn a part of who they are apart....? I fear I may need to go into therapy to try to figure out why I let someone like him into my life. He was not the first time I have danced with the devil. And all this time, I thought that I was getting better. That I am a better person than I used to be. I know this is true, that I am a better person, a kinder person - but... It doesn't do much to help how my ego feels. My ego feels bruised and broken & I feel like I can never be enough for anyone. And was it so wrong, of me, to want to have a lover who was successful in life? To want a better life than I have & to expect that maybe, somehow, i could attract someone who wasn't a drug addict or a loser or lazy or a total piece of shit? I thought that I had found that in him. Instead, it turned out that he is, by far, the worst person I have ever come across in my life. Well, No, He's the second worst, perhaps even the third. There is also nicholas & a.j. - two other beings that should be wiped off the face of the earth.
I'm not sure why looking at all of those photos upset me so much. I didn't love Ray. I was to an extent, in love with the idea of him - the idea he had created, but, him as a person - not at all. We didn't even have a relationship. He took from me like a parasite & I allowed it because I am weak. I am too nice. I need to learn to have a backbone.
He scares me though. I am always double checking where I am and who is around me & I am always looking to make sure I have an exit. He has brought back a lot of the PTSD i can't seem to get rid of. Anxiety attacks happen a lot now. For no reason. Just out of the blue. I do, worry that he will come out here & harm me, or one of the other girls. He has no morals, no conscience. We are all just pawns in his little game that he plays to keep himself amused. The worst part is - there is no recourse for someone like him. None of us will ever get justice, or our money back, or our stolen items. He will continue to do what he has done to others (that i haven't found out about yet) & he will get away with it. Lets say, though, hypothetically that we are able to put a stop to him... then what? he goes away to jail or something for a little bit & then he gets out & god only knows how much he will hate us. He ruined B's life for far less. He's managed to fuck up my life pretty good.... & for what? I was nice & kind & generous & so was my family.
But that's the thing - you can not use logic or the normal human rules when you are dealing with a sociopath. Everything you know is false. These people are defective. We should honestly throw them on a horrible island & let them kill each other for sport.
4% of humans are sociopaths. It averages out to 1 in 25 Americans. This is far more than schizophrenics (ha & i've run across three of those in my life), anorexics (& i was one of those forever... & now i am fat), far more than we would ever think to imagine. When I read the statistics on sociopaths I flipped out. No wonder I have encountered two of them. Apparently they are everywhere!
I've been reading this book "the sociopath next door" which has proven to be really amazing & useful. It describes Ray Holycross to the T. I have so many sticky notes in the damn book that you would think that I am going to write a thesis. Hell, maybe i should. I don't think there is a memoir out yet about what all of us have gone through. Maybe I should write about him. Although i have no idea where I would start. But... i want to start writing again.... i used to be so great at it. Maybe there's a memoir workshop i can take or something. I need to earn back that 4 grand that Ray took from me... so i can go back to school.
sigh. i wish i had kept an accurate diary during this period. thankfully i was mostly sober nearly all of the time & not abusing pills or doing anything stupid so what is left of my memory is still in tact.
Maybe I should just continue to write in here... and say fuck it about privacy & the secrets I shouldn't tell. Who cares. Ray helped ruin what good things I had going for me by stealing from people I know. God, I feel so trapped. I want to flee this area so desperately but I can't even get a job. The one i had i lost once she found out about what happened with ray. I think she thought I would steal from her too. Or, at the very least that I am nuts & have too much baggage. Regardless, it sucks.
I spoke to my family about returning to school... but again, to pull this off i need to have a job. to leave this hell hole i need to go to school. i can't find a job & my student loan is defaulting and so i can't get any loans to go to school. the money my mother shelled out to ray was supposed to go to pay off my loan. Instead she handed him money like he was her kid & i was the one who was sucking off of the family like a goddamn leech. That is a whole other thing - what went down with my mom. I am still so upset about all of that.
Ugh.... it appears like the more i write what i am thinking the more i realize that i seriously need to see a therapist to heal from this mess. i am so unhappy right now. my work quit.... & i was scammed.... & taken advantage of because I am nice.... so many people have done that to me in these past few months. If i am honest with myself - I feel somewhat suicidal & that is scary. Not because of anyone or anything - I just don't feel like I have much left in me to fight against everything. If i am feeling this way already, during the summer, i can only imagine how bad it is going to be when winter hits. It doesn't help that i am dating someone who is more like my child than my boyfriend... things were great for a few weeks & then everything went right back to how it was when i broke up with him. I always feel like i am responsible for his entertainment. And i have to constantly ask for help. He will just watch me instead of actually helping me. At first, i was just hooking up with him because I wanted to get laid. After 7 months of no physical affection - & somehow Ray tried to tell me that he loved me & we were in a great relationship! ha - anyhow, after 7 months of no physical affection, no touching, no love, no FUCKING sex... (redundant i know) I needed to take care of some business. He was around & I had an itch that needed to be scratched & he knows how to scratch that itch particularly well. But - I didn't expect to end up back in a relationship with him. especially after.... well, after the fact that he has yet to do anything as far as the rules go - that i asked of him. But - if i break up with him, i will have basically no friends at all - because he is my best friend, my only friend here really. I don't count the people i work with when it comes to politics although some of them are my friends & i care for them - but what i mean to say is - they aren't my peers. They are all adults who have had kids - many who have children my age. There will always be this weird thing where i won't feel like an equal & they will parent me. And i don't mind being parented by those that i like - it's just... it makes me feel like the eternal child.
There are things I want to do, art wise.. and things I want to explore... emotionally. There are so many things I want to learn. Right now I feel so stagnant. Even if i get the internship with Obama - I still will need to figure out a way to pay for what i will be doing. And... i find that with all of this bullshit - republicans not being able to tolerate democrats and democrats not tolerating republicans & this fake outrage all of the time - I find that my passion for politics has gone down. Just in my experience alone it has been a place filled with really amazing, wonderful people & then also, horrible people, horrible icky icky people who are power hungry & in love with themselves. I want to help make the world a better place & i don't know if politics is the way to do that. But if i go to school i will major in political science & minor in social work.... and maybe, maybe do a double major or something. I'd like to do that. I'd like to learn a foreign language. I would like to travel. I would love to learn how to play an instrument. Marnie said she would give me a violin to learn on but then she got sick. I'd like to learn how to use a decent synth so that i can make music. I'd like to design my own clothing & learn how to sew. I'd like to write a book. I'd like to learn how to paint. I need a creative outlet. I don't have one & it is stifling. I'd like to go back to reading poetry on open mic night. Id like to put to words what i have been feeling inside lately. i'd like to paint that, too. And make music of it.
I don't know... going through those photographs, i could trace all of my past mistakes with Ray Holycross. I was able to make a rough time line. & the thing is - there are some girls that he appears to care about or be more fond of than others. Those are the girls who show up in the pictures. I wonder why he ever even bothered with me. I don't mean that in a self deprecating way, i just wonder what he wanted to get from me. If my mom hadn't gotten her inheritance there wouldn't have been any money so i am sure he would have bounced by the middle of january. But for two months or so he stayed here, with me, in my bed & we watched battlestar & we laughed & we watched politics & we went to my political events together & he got to know everyone who is important to me. During those two months he said he was "healing" from his heart attack (which never happened btw.. there is no scar & i don't know what the motivation was for making up that story) he slept a lot - i mean a lot & he ended up smoking a lot - i mean A LOT of pot. I questioned all of this, you know, since he supposedly was on death's door. When I asked him what happened, when he technically "died" he told me nothing. That,btw, is not what happens when you technically die. At least that wasn't what happened to me. I actually remember very vividly my experiences. That however, is another entry. Anyway, he really milked that heart attack story. He needed to appear vulnerable & worthy of pity. When i asked him, as time went on, for more details - he couldn't give me any. Then Mikey had his graduation... & supposedly this was a big deal because he could drink again (except you know, that he had been drinking the whole time when he went into chicago.. but i didn't know that) so he gets so wasted that he can't walk really & he pukes all over my brother's spare bedroom floor. It was disgusting. I was already in bed asleep because the drinks were really strong & i am a lightweight who knows when to call it quits. He got into bed with me & he kept asking me if I loved him, If i would be with him forever, If I really loved him... He didn't say anything about how he loved me - nothing of the sort. It was as is typical for Ray holycross - all about him. Then he tried to touch me - or whatever, and well... he had limp dick. I remember touching it and holding it in my hands and being revolted. So, there I am with my hand around his squishy cock & all of a sudden i hear him snoring. I was like.... "youve got to be kidding me..." but no, it was really happening. He had taken off his shirt though, which he never did around me & i knew - I knew there was a reason, which was that you know, his big massive heart attack wasn't real. I knew he was out so i took my phone & used the illumination to look at Ray's chest.
There was... no fucking scar. I remember flipping out. I remember my chest pounding & feeling like i was going to throw up. That...the suspicion i had, along with my mother & Daire (good ol daire fucking calls all of these guys out as soon as she meets them....) was actually true. That was a mindfuck.
I laid in the bed, with him taking up most of it, i should add, listening to him snoring... thinking about how i had been lied to. I thought about the sheer audacity of it. I thought about how, next to me, there was this person who had been totally lying to me for months. And how, he refused to have sex with me - citing his heart attack... only to find out that he was sleeping with more girls than i can keep track of while we were together.... anyway, i laid there & i thought about how I should just leave him stranded in Detroit. How great that would feel. Fuck you later... but i didn't want to cause a scene the very first time i was at my brother's house. I remember how i was already getting my hangover (because i have one kidney, i get the hangover midway through being drunk & i become miserable) & my head was pounding. I watched the sun come up in my brother's suburban neighborhood trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. I was in disbelief but inside of me, i knew he was full of shit. he couldn't give me details about his surgery. he couldn't tell me who the doctor even was, or what hospital it had been done in. He also told me that the hospital had a dvd rental thing while he was there so he rented dexter while he was 'healing.' I've never heard of any hospital having an inner system dvd rental place & i have been in some really nice hospitals. Again, i would just let it slide because... whenever i asked a question or stood up for myself or even got a bit close to the truth & calling him on it, he would insult me & tell me i was being a bitch or paranoid or that i was a drama queen. he would tell me that he hates fights but that i made him get into them. yes, i started the fights by asking him real questions - which came from a place of love & concern - and the thanks i got was being told that i was, more or less worthless, stupid, annoying & a drama queen. When i brought up the fact that if he had had a heart attack he should have nitro pills on him - everyone gets them, it's standard medicine he just looked at me like i was speaking in an alien tongue. When I asked if i could come with to his 'check up' he balked. When i would rag on him for smoking cigarettes constantly he would tell me that i needed to quit being such a nag. But seriously, who has a heart attack & then chain smokes every day afterwards?
do you have a guess?
DING DING
RAY HOLYCROSS does. because there was no heart attack.
so, i asked my brother if he would go out with me to lunch/dinner so we could hangout & talk. we left & while eating thai at my favorite thai place in ann arbor, i told my brother what i saw. my brother looked up the surgery online (he told me he had a defibrillator put in... others he told that he had open heart surgery) & it turns out that the procedure doesn't leave huge scars because they just put the defib into your heart via your arteries or veins ( i forget which it is) and so, that had to be the explanation... & it was dark & so i couldn't get a great look but.... anyway, my brother calmed me down & tried to tell me that i was being paranoid.
that was the first & last time i would get to see ray's chest... unless you count the photos he took of himself while beating off in my bathroom & in my brother's room. I wonder if, had i asked to see his scars - because when i would ask about his heart & when i got that look on my face (my facial expressions are very transparent - you can read what i am thinking by looking at my face) he would say "what, do you want to see my scar?" and i would say... yes. or sometimes no, that is quite alright. But, i wonder if i had pushed the subject further if he would have actually cut himself up & sewed himself shut for the sake of the story. what do you think?
My brother did his best to reassure me that Ray was not lying to me, nor was he a piece of shit. We both bonded over the fact that we weren't getting laid, amongst other things. My brother really liked Ray... until he didn't. when all of the shit hit the fan, my brother wasn't the least bit surprised. i wonder if that is because mikey was already looking into him.
The way home was horrible because there was a really bad snowstorm & to top it off i had to pretend like i didn't know that he was a liar. I did good though - i mean, he didn't notice that i was unhappy & contemplating what to do.
And then I got home & he was all affectionate (he had to be, i suspect he knew what i was thinking & how close he was to being thrown out) and we resumed our routine. The truth is also that i didn't want to be left alone in my room with no one to talk to. Did i mention how hard it is for me to find real friends? yeah, its pretty impossible.
I want to make one thing clear though - which is that Ray holycross is good. he will have you believing that you are whatever he says you are.... a bitch, oversensitive, unappreciative - whatever it is, he can manipulate you into believing that you are the one who is in the wrong. He is that good. But his eyes, those eyes are cold. The other thing i want to state is that, Ray has not broken me or destroyed me. I do, however, feel like it would be a good idea to see a professional about what happened because they would be best equipped to help me understand why i let someone like him into my life & why i continued to tolerate everything even though i knew in my heart of hearts that he was cheating on me & that he was mearly using me. I want to know why his not feeling affectionate towards me - why he never took pictures of me - like i am... someone to be shunned - i want to know why it upsets me as much as it does. why does it make me feel gross & ugly & ugh all of the shit that my brain will yammer out when i don't feel too awesome about myself. i need to know where this comes from. because logically - i should not give a fuck! but emotionally.... it hurts.
& all of this hurt - I have no one i can talk to about it. I can talk to Rachel because we are pretty much in the same boat - but i mean, i can't talk to anyone who is physically in my life. If i try to talk about it with wynn his eyes just glaze over like they do when i am talking about politics. that says a lot about our future, doesn't it? I want to know why i feel so hurt by all of this & why there is some part of me that still cares or is somehow trapped into thinking that my worth is somehow connected with how he sees me. and that maybe, he sees me as all of the things i see in myself when i am in my shadow self mode.
The upside is, however, that i am in very good company. So far i have liked all of the girls & guys that i have met because of this mess. At least he can pick cool people to hang out with. I do hope that I will be able to make lasting friendships with everyone. I would love to have some sort of "ray holycross fucked us over" kind of outing/gathering. like a family reunion for people who are all victims of the same smelly fat faced sociopath.
my god, did he smell. i told him he needed to wash his clothes & bathe himself & it was like... he enjoyed the funk. I think, partly that he enjoyed making my room smell like him - leaving his scent like a mammal does to declare territory.
Right so...another thing - he was obsessed with Dexter. thinking about how he has the capability to totally flip the fuck out - & kill someone - all of those late night viewings of Dexter put me at unease. Really... really uneasy.
If you are a victim of Ray Holycross & you are reading this - The entry you want where i explain what he does & who he really is - is the entry that is in June. When confronted about that entry that entry & its accusations - he said that i was just another jealous butthurt xgirlfriend. Right. Honey I am more than hurt, i am full of rage.
I should also state that that entry - which liz has been referring people to (hi!) is a copy of a letter i wrote & sent to his email a few days after our final fight - which wasn't so much a fight as it was me saying dont ever come back & don't you dare think you will get anymore money from us... I sent that letter. I didn't get a response, of course.
It should be noted though that i know for a fact he has read the entry below. That is the one that isn't pages long ramblings.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
letter for prosperity
Take down the photos of my brother & grandmother & doopa. Now.
Your undead x or whatever the fuck she is Julie if that is even her name is so not a model. The world's best lighting couldn't make that "photoshoot" look professional. But hey, some of us can take good photos & some of us can't.
I feel sorry for the girl who got suckered into taking your photo at the planetarium. BTW, you brought home two tickets from the aquarium. Pretty sloppy.
Remember how you said that I don't get angry often enough?
I am angry.
Not that you were "cheating" on me - sociopaths aren't capable of love, so it's not like we had a relationship - it's disgusting how you made me throw Wynn to the dogs like that, how you would get all mad when I would spend time with him while you were gone - It was tit for tat you fucking fool. I knew there was something going on. There was some girl somewhere. I just needed the evidence. Thanks for leaving me a used condom. That was disgusting. But hey, I've got your DNA. Not sure what i would do with it, but I've got it none the less. I just find it beyond amusing, and sickening really - You didn't want the gravy train to run out, did you? Couldn't let me have my cake.
It's okay though, because I've never in my life been more happy to have not had sex for so long. Jesus, you did me one favor. I never thought you could have had a heart in that way.
I just wanted to let you know though, that this won't be the last of me. When you are snuggling up next to whatever poor girl you have suckered into believing your lies, think of me. Think of my black hair - I know you go for blondes. Think of me & think of your own selfish need to survive. This isn't the last time you will hear from me. You can tell whatever girl whatever story you want, but I know there are many more girls like me that are out there. I'll find those women. & I'll put a stop to you.
Also, please don't forget to think about how much of an utter failure you are in life. God, you couldn't even edit the videos that HCP & John needed. Professional? You? Ha! Black listing people? That's even better when you can't get anything done. All those skype meetings with chicks you need to swindle out of dough, 50 some odd emails a day you have to answer for "work" - work being finding new targets. How dare you have ever gotten mad at me for making you late to a train. How dare you have ever tried to treat me like I was less than you. I am actually doing something with my life. I'm actually going somewhere. Where are you going? Tippencanoe? Oh, right, no, not even your family of origin will have anything to do with you. You tried to ruin my self esteem. That was funny. I just want to let you know I found that to be a laugh riot. You've got nothing. NOTHING!
ME? I might be out some money, but I've got a whole career ahead of me, wonderful people who love me & will look out for me, a family that loves me & would never pretend I don't exist, a brother I am proud of, a personal story that is inspiring & I am a nice person. Good things will happen to me. To you? Not so much. You are a failure. A failure who craves attention. A smooth talker, 110% good at your grifting. You need to feel important. Special. You are special in the fact that you are a defective human being. That heart attack you had? What was that really? Did you get out of the psych-ward? You knew an awful lot about records not being made open to the public. Too much, actually.
I just want to say one other thing. You smell really bad. I mean, really really bad. I would hate for you to inflict that on the girl that you are vampire squiding off of right now. Shower more often. For her sake. Because I couldn't take it. And oh, Jesus christ - Brush your teeth more than once a week. Your breath was as bad as hoey's. It's interesting how phermones work & how you repulsed me in that way. I just didn't want to be mean. As things progressed, I really couldn't take it. I said snide comments, but I don't think you ever heard it. You blocked it out. Your ego & all of that. But honestly its the least you can do for whatever poor girl you are fucking over right now.
Ah, I think that's all for now. It's been a busy day. The rally went off & I now have to go see some bands to see if they are worth booking. You know, because I have a life.
I know that none of this will affect you - You don't have feelings, & you will block this account & take down your flicker. Just like you took down your twitter (so sad! how will i hear about your exploits in fake places & your fake jobs?!) & how you blocked me from facebook (I had a laughing fit over that one. you truly are pathetic) but it's okay.
Seriously you didn't know how long it takes for a woman's period to come back after she quits the pill? Shows how much you know. Google is a bitch. You.... you make me laugh.
Thanks for that.
You'll be hearing from me.
Trust in that.
Corinne.
Your undead x or whatever the fuck she is Julie if that is even her name is so not a model. The world's best lighting couldn't make that "photoshoot" look professional. But hey, some of us can take good photos & some of us can't.
I feel sorry for the girl who got suckered into taking your photo at the planetarium. BTW, you brought home two tickets from the aquarium. Pretty sloppy.
Remember how you said that I don't get angry often enough?
I am angry.
Not that you were "cheating" on me - sociopaths aren't capable of love, so it's not like we had a relationship - it's disgusting how you made me throw Wynn to the dogs like that, how you would get all mad when I would spend time with him while you were gone - It was tit for tat you fucking fool. I knew there was something going on. There was some girl somewhere. I just needed the evidence. Thanks for leaving me a used condom. That was disgusting. But hey, I've got your DNA. Not sure what i would do with it, but I've got it none the less. I just find it beyond amusing, and sickening really - You didn't want the gravy train to run out, did you? Couldn't let me have my cake.
It's okay though, because I've never in my life been more happy to have not had sex for so long. Jesus, you did me one favor. I never thought you could have had a heart in that way.
I just wanted to let you know though, that this won't be the last of me. When you are snuggling up next to whatever poor girl you have suckered into believing your lies, think of me. Think of my black hair - I know you go for blondes. Think of me & think of your own selfish need to survive. This isn't the last time you will hear from me. You can tell whatever girl whatever story you want, but I know there are many more girls like me that are out there. I'll find those women. & I'll put a stop to you.
Also, please don't forget to think about how much of an utter failure you are in life. God, you couldn't even edit the videos that HCP & John needed. Professional? You? Ha! Black listing people? That's even better when you can't get anything done. All those skype meetings with chicks you need to swindle out of dough, 50 some odd emails a day you have to answer for "work" - work being finding new targets. How dare you have ever gotten mad at me for making you late to a train. How dare you have ever tried to treat me like I was less than you. I am actually doing something with my life. I'm actually going somewhere. Where are you going? Tippencanoe? Oh, right, no, not even your family of origin will have anything to do with you. You tried to ruin my self esteem. That was funny. I just want to let you know I found that to be a laugh riot. You've got nothing. NOTHING!
ME? I might be out some money, but I've got a whole career ahead of me, wonderful people who love me & will look out for me, a family that loves me & would never pretend I don't exist, a brother I am proud of, a personal story that is inspiring & I am a nice person. Good things will happen to me. To you? Not so much. You are a failure. A failure who craves attention. A smooth talker, 110% good at your grifting. You need to feel important. Special. You are special in the fact that you are a defective human being. That heart attack you had? What was that really? Did you get out of the psych-ward? You knew an awful lot about records not being made open to the public. Too much, actually.
I just want to say one other thing. You smell really bad. I mean, really really bad. I would hate for you to inflict that on the girl that you are vampire squiding off of right now. Shower more often. For her sake. Because I couldn't take it. And oh, Jesus christ - Brush your teeth more than once a week. Your breath was as bad as hoey's. It's interesting how phermones work & how you repulsed me in that way. I just didn't want to be mean. As things progressed, I really couldn't take it. I said snide comments, but I don't think you ever heard it. You blocked it out. Your ego & all of that. But honestly its the least you can do for whatever poor girl you are fucking over right now.
Ah, I think that's all for now. It's been a busy day. The rally went off & I now have to go see some bands to see if they are worth booking. You know, because I have a life.
I know that none of this will affect you - You don't have feelings, & you will block this account & take down your flicker. Just like you took down your twitter (so sad! how will i hear about your exploits in fake places & your fake jobs?!) & how you blocked me from facebook (I had a laughing fit over that one. you truly are pathetic) but it's okay.
Seriously you didn't know how long it takes for a woman's period to come back after she quits the pill? Shows how much you know. Google is a bitch. You.... you make me laugh.
Thanks for that.
You'll be hearing from me.
Trust in that.
Corinne.
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