1

My Awakening from Sleep

Paralysis (my song)
One… Two… (Sing My Angel)
A Queer Eye for a Straight Mind is coming for you.

Did you forget to remember the voice of the people pleading for
your help? Aren't you broken down and tired to Rise UP?
Maybe the rain falls from tears of love while the heavy storms
are formed from tears of pain accumulated from all living things
in despair. *Maybe you should think about it*.

Three… Four… (SING with ME!)

Do you believe in Magic? It's true we are all yellow:

You can run even lock your doors.

Fire to fire /
Earth to earth /
Water to water /
Wind to wind.
Ah-h-h-h don't you love to blame others for your Goddamn
mistakes? So, go ahead and point your finger Mrs. n Mr. Know
It All.

Five… Six…
(Sing to Me my Angel of Dark Music)
The Vengeful one for The Devil's Advocate:

Ha-Ha-Ha do you think you can avoid me with garlic, silver and
a crucifix? *Honk if you love Jesus*.
Let the rain fall, tornados turn, earth shake, *Nature vs.
Mankind War begin - (rumors has it, do you even health-care?)
words on the street is that you smile to others but cry alone. Is
that true?

Haven't you heard about the prophecies? Fire from the skies,
tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunami, accidents, turmoil, and oil

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spills... death upon all of us? Let me catch my breath but first let
me take a #Selfie?
Seven… Eight…
(Sing to me like the Phantom's Dark Side of the Opera inside
my Head!)
The Clock's ticking at the Speed of Sound to Viva La Vida in
Paradise with a Sky Full of Stars for the Scientist of Souls in the
hard Cold-play:

Transformation to the Guilty Fear of Your Shame before it is too

late.
How about we play some EVERYDAY: T.R.U.T.H. or D.A.R.E.?
You know what they say? Finders are keepers or make 7UP
yours.

Nine… Ten… (Sing to Me!!!)

To People Like us:

Or we have to live it through a happy death day again and

again and ...again…
Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday
dear ... Fifth Element... Happy Birthday to People like Us.

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

If we only get one life, would just one life for you be
enough? Now, ask everyone in the world who was or is
not as fortunate as you are, would others have the same
answer? Maybe you are a world traveler. Maybe you have
always been lucky and money fell over you. Maybe you
were born rich, like me. Maybe you have had it all
because you worked hard for your money, house, car,
and family... Maybe you were born with a brilliant idea
and made it larger than life. Maybe you became a movie
star or a famous singer/ dancer/ movie maker. Maybe

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for you it is enough to think only one life is fair to be well
lived.

Maybe thinking that way is fair for some but if it doesn't

benefit others, maybe thinking that way is also taking
others rights away just like in Employment Discrimination
Law that only protects some but not ALL people.

Table of Contents: (PDF format)

Pg. 7.……………………………………… PRE-INTRODUCTION

Pg. 12………………………… Don’t Forget to Remember Me

Pg. 17…...………………………………………………SYNOPSIS
My Imaginary Tourniquet - Even with the Essence
Of my Final Destination

Pg. 20…………………………………………….INTRODUCTION
My December

Pg. 24..………………………………………………..CHAPTER 1
My Survival Mode Speech

Pg. 29…………………………………………………CHAPTER 2
Conscience Paralysis

Pg. 47…………………………………………………CHAPTER 3
Mind Reading

Pg. 71…………………………………………………CHAPTER 4
Sleep Paralysis

Pg. 80…………………………………………………CHAPTER 5
Guilty Conscience

Pg. 104………………………………………………..CHAPTER 6
Some of My Belief

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Pg. 131………………………………………………..CHAPTER 7
Relationships

Pg. 162………………………………………………..CHAPTER 8
The Butterfly Effect to the Mirror Reflection of my
Law of Attraction

Pg. 197………………………………………………..CHAPTER 9
Pay it forward

Pg. 230………………………………………………CHAPTER 10
Anything is Possible or Burn with You

Pg. 289………………………………………………CHAPTER 11
Grand Finale

The Fucking Perfect Chapter Conclusion

Pg. 320………………………………………………CHAPTER 12
If You Have Nine Inches Come Closer so I Can Thank U

Pg. 326…………………………………….Dedication

Pg. 327………………………………..Chapter 13
Your participation
References: Words in Bold, Italic and Underlined
Throughout the writing listed for you to research as your
homework and you know what they say?
Finders are Keepers.
A Tough Lover´s job is to instruct and grade papers.
(Find my YouTube channel for ´´A Queer Eye Choice`` Playlist- cheat sheet)

Pg. 357……………………………….Chapter 14
Chromosomes

Pg. 382……………………………….Chapter 15
Back to my old yet new Destiny cyclical loop of Zeros

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Pg. 411……………….My Resume Conclusion
Final Notes Prior to Final Exam

6
 Pre-Introduction:

A Queer Eye

I grew up disturbed by the sound of silence. I am a son, brother,

uncle, son in law, cousin, and grandson … I am a
neighbor but yet I was born to fight for my right to have
rights to survive.
My awakening from sleep paralysis is based on my life. It is the
way a queer see how the law of return affects and infects
our lives for what we chose to put others through bringing
the law of attraction as a mirror image of the consequences
we must suffer -- being a life situation, relationship issues,
tragedy and disease.
Have you ever loved somebody so much, it makes you
cry? Have you ever needed something so bad that you
can't sleep at night? How about to be next to someone
and feel so sleepy that you have the need to take a long
nap? Recently, I dealt with a situation with my new
friend; I would get so sleepy when around him. I would
also get very angry and agitated prior to his, unbeknown
to me, arrival at my place. I tend to come clean of all the
shit I talk behind his back. In the conversations we had,
he came clean about the stuff he withheld from telling
me to my face but to badmouth me behind my back.

Same situation happens in my new relationship; when

we spend a lot of time together – even in bed I tend to be
very sleepy after starring my bf in the eyes or simply to
be next to him. I am still waiting for his confessions.

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On another note, for those who experiences constant
diarrhea and UTI – Urinary Track Infection: raw
smoothie made of beets tends to help ease the bladder
burn. I just like the combination of beets, carrots, apple
and orange for that better earthy taste. All my life, Will I
find a believer? Another one who believes? Someone
Woke?

Please note that I did work with an editor because of my

language barrier. I was not born in United States (not justifying)
but English was never my forte. Throughout High School and
College, I only got to write a few 2 pages essay to which the
placement of the words, sentences and so on - were always a
hot mess.

On another note, to be intolerant with others errors or mistakes do say

a lot about the kind of person you are. I would say perhaps: short-
tempered, live a life secluded, back stabbed a lot by your peers, and
lonely even when around others. Maybe got some paranoia reactions
such as: triple checking if you have locked the door you just closed
and maybe also going back to re-check a couple more times for not
remembering what you did a few moments ago. Perhaps you also
have the sense that others are after you -- being in dreams of being
chased --- someone after to kill ya. You might also be careless about
others and get very annoyed if the topic is not about you because you
must be the center of attention and roll your eyes when others are
talking excessively not giving you the chance to break in - making you
wish you were at home or by yourself or regretting the moment you
decided to give someone a chance. All of that just because of a minor
(or many) grammar error (but don't limit your mind to just a misspelled
word) you can't stand to read past it perhaps. Perhaps I can read you
with black written words on a thin piece of white paper as some
readers might already be annoyed. You also might be a person who
complains disproportionately and at times cannot stand your own self
but yet you can't seem to tolerate others errors…

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`But, wait a minute man! You mispronounced my name.
You didn't wait for all the information before you turned
me away. `
I see Right Through You.
This is my Hybrid theory …but enough about you let´s talk about US
for a while...

The editor I worked with is a writer and works All the Way... A
Decade (2 decades) proofreading and editing articles. (So, I
had been told).

This is the editor’s initial comment:

"Thank you once more for permitting me the opportunity to read
your novel/memoir/inspirational self-help book, as it is indeed
all those things... and more! I am further filled with gratitude
now that I have read it, especially with its sensitive and brutally
honest subject matter".

I was asked if I had read a book and got compared:

"Have you ever read...?
...the modernist *JJ Masterpiece* often considered the ultimate
novel of the 20th century? It is told in various points of view, via
myriad literary voices from visions to inner-voice monologues to
newspaper headlines. Your work, with its back-and-forth
through "time," multiple subheadings and vacillation between
real-life anecdotes and revised song lyrics, reminded me of
that".

I was also asked:

"I think the greatest question I have as we continue is this:
Would you like to keep this amorphous, ephemeral style,
leading up to the discussion of sleep paralysis and because of
your revelations throughout, or are you interested in
restructuring? I am not certain what your final intent is--if you
are submitting to publishing houses, self-publishing, etc.?"

I decided to revise the revisions and keep the format I chose. I

added some content that I was working on meanwhile my work

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was being edited as well as I wrote the many conclusions
throughout the book. I decided to keep it my natural and raw
without being checked again by another `´professional`´
because everything has a reason and a meaning.

Truth is told!

Truth is also told!

I did speak to my editor, over messages, expressing my
concern.
It was my solely fault for not being direct as to what I expected.

Also, I noticed that many pages that were required to be edited

were not touched. A very significant load of work that I even
was willing to pay extra to be looked over but the editor
projected a time frame against my odds. I refused.

The editor has Lupus. Lupus is a disease that transforms the

person into a ''monster''. Maybe this is the answer you look for

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 Dear Editor, for a disease that has “no” cure. Maybe the pay
ahead of time didn’t compensate? Maybe what’s behind your
thoughts of actions are holding you hostage in your body (the
action was to do the work behind the thought).
Maybe, my book was judged the opposite of the words sent in
the initial editor´s comment?
Maybe lupus is just bringing it out what it is hidden inside, dear
reader.
Feel free to let me know once you figure it out who is the
beautiful people dear editor.

Therefore, I would like to ask for your comprehension and to

please forgive me for any uncertainty the choice of wording my
work may cause because I decided to do everything my way,
regardless of the work done by my editor- at least I did my way
as I believe you are the one thing in my way -all my errors
that is.
Also, I attempted to provide as much information as possible to
show connections of past, present and future with what here I
presented.
As time passes me by, I keep on getting additional most current
information (a schizoid mind talking)
Although,
This could be a continuous work that will be an infinity x infinity.

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 Don’t Forget to Remember Me

I dreamed a dream that a Queer Eye had the cure of

every disease known to human kind through my Awakening
from Sleep Paralysis.

Everything I wrote; is based on my life, conversations with

others, transformations of others’ work to fit into my life, my
point of view, my belief and similarities to others through what
they put it out into the world. Please note that the content in
bold, italic and underlined is for you to utilize and do your
research for you know what they say? (Finders are keepers).

Life for me is like poetry, music, movies, TV. Life for me is how I
can feel, see, be. Exactly like beetles crawling the walls in my
house and I just let it be.

Pay attention to every detail and identify yourself. Feel

the emotion transmitted and find yourself in your past actions
done and words said. The only remission will be found
within. This is the way I found that it would be easier to relate
my message and help others who experience Sleep Paralysis –
100% of people in this world.
My work would not be possible if it wasn’t for you and
me, therefore, please understand that I am trying to make as
much easy as possible to relate the message I am trying to
convey and the steps I believe you will need to comprehend
prior to reach the understanding of my awakening from sleep
paralysis.

Note: I attempted to get a few friends I have out of their sleep

paralysis but they could not understand the steps I learned on
my own therefore it is up to you to make your choice on what is
your best interest in getting out of my writing.

I hope you enjoy music and to watch movies... as much as I do

but if you think as I used to -- that other´s work are not as
important as mine was, I will say that your life will be a long
narrow street of cobblestone ahead of you.

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After all, life should be she-bang(ing) just like you=I and really,
nobody wants to be lonely, do you?

FYI: I contemplate every situation, feeling, disease, lesson

learned … as a form of the mind to expand its consciousness
from the sleep paralysis mode.

My belief is: If one dies with a disease…

Cancer / Parkinson’s / Alzheimer’s / Paranormal and Suicidal

thoughts (actions) / Suicide / Heart Palpitations / Paranoia’s --
Cirrhosis or Hepatitis / Irrational Fear / Insomnia / Lupus / Panic
Attack / Anger / Depression / Death … / Natural Disasters:
Tornado, tsunami, earthquake/shake, cyclone, flooding…

…that someone will be walking dead with that disease just like
in any state of mind we currently live in and pass away –If you
have a terminal disease, aren’t you a walking waiting to die?
We don't get to R. I. P. if we are not in peace.

If we call our birthdays “Happy Birthday” we should also call our

death “Happy Death Day” don´t you think? Now imagine if we
had to live Happy Death Day as a cyclical loop of a zero?
Meaning that when we die, we are reborn to live to go through it
all over again and again and again and again…as déjà vu. I
would say similar to our yearly birthdays. Well, who really
knows what is or what it is not? I sure would like to find that out
but in my righteous state of mind.

Therefore, how about a different attempt to tear down the walls

and free the body, mind and soul with a queer’s point of view --
if you like my way OR transforming into your own work...
However, you heart wish. This year, Santa Claus is coming to
town early as I am giving you a paid gift that will be useful for a
lifetime.

Truth or Dare?

I D.A.R.E. you to challenge this W.I.T.C.H. (me) - A Queer Eye for

a Straight Mind. Take one last breath before you continue as
you probably got chills because you’re the one that I want
before we slip on the grease hanging six feet closer to the edge.
OR are you brave enough to speak UP all your REAL truth?

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 Do what you, what you want. I am a firm believer
that if we are not born with a disease, we can die with no fear of
reaching the other side and without that disease. I also believe
that “the secret” it is still a secret; I have a different point of
view on how the law of attraction works. We are all in a state of
Sleep Paralysis as I like to call Sleep Conscience. Everyone will
get in life what they give. Taking for granted what was given to
us --the gift to be born and being ungrateful to live with the free
will of choices, while breaking our essence (I’ll explain more
about essence throughout the writing) and telling others how
they should live their lives--will lead anyone to lose what's more
important in their lives from top to bottom. What's in the bottom
becomes the most important until all is lost.
Can you retract some of your loss in your conscience?

Seem so silly right, one little thing we do that seems that we are
doomed if we do or doomed if we don’t. My suggestion is that if
that manager you so “love” doesn’t ask you anything, why
bother? Be bothered because you dislike someone? Or
because that someone is doing something that you envy? Or

14
because that someone is taking advantage of the manager you
“love”? But if that “loved” manager asks you about a co-worker,
why not ask that someone directly? (Just my suggestion that’s
all).

Hating someone for whatever reason it may be (law of

attraction- that person is your reflection of the hate), will lead us
to create our butterfly effect based on our choices.

In my writing, perhaps, I am giving you a million reasons to

walk away but within a million lies, the truth will rise to tear us
apart. I hope you understand that this is not personal. My
writing had to do with me, myself and my thoughts. My queer
eye had some straighten out to do because the smell of
everything I have done in the past and everyone I got to know,
still lingers on my skin like someone would say that big girls
don’t cry. I had to fly many times to my hometown (my heart),
to get a move on with my life. I took baby steps in finding
myself. I am far from out of the woods as I once thought to be
but failed to remember of my every second choices that I still
must make.

Just because I don’t understand something or how my

actions will affect others, it doesn’t mean that I am
immune from the painful consequences I will get to
tolerate through my body, mind and "soul"
(Soul or "psychological or heart´´ – whichever suits you
best).
I believe that fairy tales do have a happy ending. I’ll be
waiting for my future charming prince on a “Whitehorse” to ride
us in the beach (not my ex that you will read ahead or maybe it
is him who knows); and if we both like each other enough, he
will put a ring on it. Like the old say: Third time’s charm – I
choose you and you choose me, for the both of us to fly like a
flock of birds set to O “fly on” free.

Gay guys do cry. As a `´religious`´ gay man, I cry even

more maybe because I believe that If I were a boy or only a
girl maybe I would not understand. Therefore, please forgive
me for touching subjects that are held close to everyone’s

15
heart. People want the memory of their beloved ones intact
meanwhile; I want them to have a fair chance in their
redemption; for what I believe.

I used to make my choices based on pride, jealousy,

selfishness and as I saw the world I grew up, based in I hate
everything about you because I hate everything about me too.
I had to learn to program myself to wake up before my
alarm clock, that way I would have enough time to prepare
myself for my day. To wake up to have a cup of coffee, smoke
my cigarettes, listen to music and to shower prior to leaving my
home otherwise I would leave the house agitated, rushing
myself out, upset with people for taking their time on the roads,
angry for situations out of control that caused traffic while hating
on others because I blamed everyone for my being late. My
unfairly morning affected how I treated others. That was my
excuse to mistreat someone, make customers wait just
because, and not to smile throughout the day since I was still
caught up trying to recover from being proud to assume the
weight on my conscience. Others didn’t have anything to do
with my lack of appreciation and no love to myself.

To make my story plausible for the Christian readers, I will cite

passages from the bible. Sorry to the non-believers, but I
believe this will make sense to you as well. Just replace any
word “God” I wrote throughout the book with “Love”. I was/am
an Atheist for over two decades. I believe that changing into
something else and not accepting what/ how it used to be will
make me a hypocrite to suffer consequences for not respecting
my past actions therefore, I will always also be an Atheist
besides Atheism people are freaking awesome and has a
profound sense of humor. I am forever an Atheist Christian.

Luke 6:34-35
And if you lend to those from whom you expect
to receive, what credit is that to you? Even
sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same
amount. But love your enemies, and do good,
and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your
reward will be great, and you will be sons of the
Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and
the evil. - (In my opinion, we are the evil).

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 Synopsis

My Imaginary Tourniquet - Even with the Essence

Of my Final Destination

Time.
That’s how I tried to kill my pain.
I was dying in pouring betrayal and self-regret. I
prayed, bled and screamed as if no one could hear me.
I was reaching my final destination.
I could no longer move forward.
My clock started to tick backwards like the loop of a
zer0.
Why tick backwards?
You have to fight time to survive. I was not getting any younger.
I was waiting for salvation to return for me to be saved.
Are you wondering what to do with your time right now?
I was lost.
Yet as I blacked out in the subway, I must have thought to
myself: What if I could stay?
The shadows whispered to me.
My tears dropped like rain to the floor.
I was in fear.
There was no refuge even in my sleep.
I had to swallow the sound of my scream, even as I could hear
the silence of the darkness of the night.
I prayed time would heal my wounds.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months or years.
Can one even put a number on time?
It is time that will let us know.

Maybe you already lost the pet you loved so much.

Maybe you think of quitting
Or
Already lost your job or dear friend or beloved family member to
dissension, divorce or death.

Do you talk to others while driving telling them what to do as if

they could hear you?
How do you treat your customers when doing your job? How do
you do your job?

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How do you put the trash of your home out for someone to pick
it up?
Do you throw garbage in the streets for someone else to clean
after you?
How do you clean the snow off your car, the sidewalks and
curb, knowing that what you do is going to affect others when
the snow melts or the snow freezes?

Or you don’t care?

Time:
This is what I had to realize my tourniquet.

In this book, I explain my realizations about many things I came

to learn about myself over time:

-How I got through Sleep Paralysis (Sleep Conscience).

-My total eclipse of the heart.
-Tackling my day-to-day fears.
-Importance of people in my life.
-My paranoia’s and unhappiness.
-Life and the repetitiveness of its occurrences.
-Understanding how to take charge of my destiny.

I realized that songs, movies, art, people -- affected my moods

and emotions. Does that happen to you as well? Do you laugh,
cry, and rage when you go to a movie theater or a concert or
church or party or at home or at work; where ever you are? I
hope you take your time to enjoy the reading. That you make it
fun, get together with others, party it up, go dancing… because
a book should not put anyone to sleep. (I did fall asleep reading
my own book and got annoyed many times as well as irritated
in attempt to perform a job I am not good at – write AND edit).
SMFH!

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Please know that: names noted were altered to protect privacy.

I mostly live for this therefore, feel free to reach out to me with
what is going on in your mind at:

Email – contato@youANDiawake.com.br
My site: www.youANDiawake.com.br

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 Introduction

My December: A Time for Confession - My time of The Year

This is my confession.
This is mostly of what I have been through all these years.
This is all my stories as clear as I could transmit.
This is my patterns.
This is me, trying to keep on breaking free.

Everything had to be reached back from my past - all that I can

remember.
I just have a feeling
Like there was
Something still behind the curtains that I really missed

I wouldn’t take back all the things I have said and done
The things I been through
They are all part of the making the way that paved my choices
and choices based on my truth (who I was then, who I am
today, and who I will be)
They were important to make me realize
All of the things I needed to improve

When I get into doing something

Now I go all the way
I leave most of everything behind
And I follow the lead to remake my past in a better way

And I gave a lot of my things away

Because there were people around me
That needed more than I did
And it gave me somewhere
To go to.
I gave it all away:
Shoes, colognes, shorts, pants, suits, dress shirts and ties,
sunglasses, jewelry, money…
All of that also to have people
To come home to
But I learned to love myself

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 This is me alone
Because I have chosen this way

Hi, my name is Ranulfo Almeida. My Social Security Number is

145-08-1574. I was made in Brazil but I got made in the USA. I
was born October 22, 1981. I belong to every religion I have
practiced: Catholicism, Christianity, Satanism, Candomblé,
Umbanda, Santeria, Pagan, Voodoo, and Witch Craft. I chose
now to be mostly home alone. In every religion, I have found
parts of which I am. It built the formation of my today’s
principles. But above all of the religions I have practiced, I am a
learner from you because what happens on my day to day
interacting with others is what defines my way of acting and
thinking. Even though I faithfully (on and off) believe in God, I
am not a bible hugger. I merely abide to the feelings I feel
pressed against my chest (my essence).

I wrote my confessions to show you there was no easy way out

for me, no shortcuts. My whole life, I tried to take shortcuts and
ran out of options other than to face the reality of which I truly
am or to commit suicide. I am not ashamed anymore. I would
be losing my religion if I picked and chose what to confess. I
believe that once you choose the same, after the shame to face
your own demon, if you chose that path, you will understand
exactly what I am writing. I found courage because I chose this
path now to mostly speak my truth. What I lie or hide, I’ll face
the consequences after match.

Someone from my past, that caused me a lot of constant

anguish reached out to me to ask for forgiveness for the things
he did. And to think that over 27 years later, I was over and
done with what had happened to me in the past but that was
just what I forced myself to believe and for a while it became
my fake truth. Once I read his messages, I was glad and
thankful for his kind words. I responded him back with a smile
and tears in my eyes because I realized that I had nothing to
forgive him for. I carried a heavy weight of wrong things I had
done in my past. Maybe just as wrong as or worse than what he
had chosen to put me through. I was really glad and happy he
reached out to me therefore I thanked him to set me free from
grudge and chains I held hidden in my conscience against him,
and ultimately let me go free.

21
 John 8:3-5
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees
brought in a woman caught in adultery. They
made her stand before the group
4. And said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was
caught in the act of adultery.
5. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone
such women. Now what do you say?"

Who am I to cast a stone at anyone or anything--to hold a

grudge, to condemn, or not forgive even if when not asked to
be forgiven after someone hurt my ego?

Even though what I have done was long ago, it will never be
washed out of the picture. Everyone makes mistakes because
we need them to make us grow. If we didn’t make mistakes, we
would feel overwhelmingly powerful in the world in which we
live; powerful enough to cast many stones. Those who do
forget what they are made of, tend to point the finger instead
out of a guilty and feared conscience.

If you think you have your right to keep on throwing stones at

someone else, that's your choice; it will always be your choice. I
am only sharing this information to make it easier for you to
identify in similar or equal situations.

Personally, I have been going to the spiritual group for about 16

years and I have not found anyone in this field--not even
"mediums" I have met traveling from all over the world who also
have written many books--were able to help me in providing
explanations like I am. Keep in mind that this is also a process;
I am still learning. We all are, always, and it is an uphill battle;
have learned from losing. Perhaps I can help you save some
time and prevent you from enduring the amount of loss as I
have.

Many people believe that sleep paralysis is a scientific body

and mind “malfunction” affecting the nerves. ´´The brain wakes
up before the body and the body paralyses to prevent the
person from getting hurt´´. If that is the case, why do statistics

22
only show about eight percent of the world’s population
experience such physical paralysis? This paraphrase doesn’t
makes sense to me. The average person sleeps one third of
his/her lifetime. However, I am thankful not to have found
anyone to explain this phenomenon in the same way I will,
because I truly believe that I can help you, for I believe that I =
you.

This ain't a book for the neither broken-hearted nor silent

prayer for the faith-departed. It´s My Life.

Everything written here expresses the transformation of my

mind. May it also transform yours?

23
 Chapter 1
My Survival Mode Speech
Beneath Your Beautiful

From the time, I was about eight years old; my parents were
engaged in the process of divorce. The fight to accept
responsibility for us children, the fight to collect child support,
the fight over all the loopholes in the system… everything, it
seemed, was a battle and there were so many loopholes that
my father appeared to get away, for a very long time, from
providing for his family. We had lived well, in a huge house
with property, but when we opened the kitchen cabinets or the
fridge, we zoomed in on their emptiness—and the mirror image
that was their reflection in our stomachs. We had nothing. We
were hungry. My father used to put fear in our lives making
threats against my mother’s life. So many times, day and
night, I remember seeing my mom crying. I would find my father
at the bars where he would sit, drinking his money and time
away while I would beg him to pay the bills; to please go buy us
some food. At that time, he was living in the next-door property
that also belonged to my family.

On occasion, my father would take my sister and me out for

pizza. At first, this felt like a gift but knowing my mother was at
home, it became torture to know I was eating meanwhile she
was starving. Soon, however, I saw it for what my father’s
intention was: an opportunity to badmouth my mother. And I
knew, then, that it wasn’t fair or right that my mother had to beg
the way she did, tear spilling down her face pleading for help
from her many years of marriage ex-husband and family
because we had nothing to eat. Or that I had to beg my own
father to do the right thing, when I was just a child myself.
I started to resist my mom’s request to beg anyone for our right
to survive.

One incident I shall never forget going to the burger place that
my aunt, my mother’s sister, owned to eat. My mom had a
budget; I believe it was 20 Reais (Brazilian currency). My
mother cried a lot over the phone speaking to someone after
my sister threw a tantrum for being hungry. The moment we
stepped foot through the door, it seemed there was something

24
very wrong in the air. The way my mom and her sister talked,
their body language and facial expressions were… off. I felt as
if we were being denied something—as if we were being even
more humiliated. I just didn’t feel right.

Sitting at the table, as my mother asked what I was going to

eat, I immediately responded with the same question back at
her. “I am not hungry,” she said, and I knew it was a lie; we
were all hungry. But I gave her the same answer and didn’t
order anything to eat. My sister had a burger with everything
they could fit inside, a side of French fries and a soda. I chewed
on my soda’s straw as I watched her devour her food. I knew
we barely had means to eat or pay for things; I was not going to
add another bill to my mother’s debt.

Late in life, my aunt, the owner of the burger place, got breast
cancer. She had to remove one of her breasts. On the way to
surgery and treatment, she said that `´God`´ was holding her
hand and walking her through the process. She said to have
survived by believing in her faith. I begged to differ. I already
knew the reason she had survived, her faith in god had nothing
to do with it. Or one is that selfish to think that their God is
going to save them and let millions of others die? Her husband
had recently lost both parents (this I was not aware), I never
met a woman that loved her man as much as she did
regardless of her being a cunt in the past and letting us starve.
Our financial situation was not her burden but she could care
less that only one sandwich was ordered for our table of three
people who were pleading for help. When I contacted her to get
some information for my book, immediately she was asking for
my forgiveness for anything I held against her. She was afraid
of the consequences one hold against another based on hate
and to have to go through cancer once again. All I wanted to
know was the reason she was still alive and to still be with one
breast instead of having lost both - that’s all. I suppose one of
us at the table got to suck on one of her breasts.

My mom ended up meeting a very much older, cranky man. He

was in his 70’s. It seemed that he was not very fond of my sister
and me, but he was quite affluent and was putting food in our
table and paying the house bills because he seemed to be in
love with my mother. I remember my mom having some
conflicts because he wanted to move to his vast farm he had in

25
another state, Sao Paulo, about 10 hours away driving from the
city we lived in. There were many reasons my mother was
almost ready to give up on the idea to move; I think mostly
because my father would never allow that to happen and
because she was not interested in the old man. I was a very
observant child; I often listened to the adults talk while the other
kids simply played in the yard. I saw an opportunity that could
be used to our advantage and I took it. I heard when my mother
was talking to her family about the old man being too controlling
and how he could run his mouth. Taking the opportunity to
speak with her, I said that she had to do what was necessary
for us to survive and that I stood behind her whichever decision
she made, but not to pass on the opportunity that was on
hands. I helped my mom sell her body to put food on the table
as we ran away without any notice and not many people knew
until we were far gone, especially my father who sent a
detective to look for us.

When my father arrived at the farm, his girlfriend at the time

said that he arrived with his gun on the trigger ready to make
some damage. When my father saw how well taken care we
were, I suppose he had a change of hearts. A ´´what if´´
thought: We would rot before anyone would find us because the
closest town was over seven miles away. After a year living in
the farm, we returned—only for me to find out that my best
friends were moving away. I had, in a way, abandoned them,
and it was their turn to do the same to me. They were also
going through some financial difficulties it seemed. For many
years I had no friends. Law of attraction started to teach me a
very valuable message that I was too naïve to notice.

Years later, I was already a young adult. My mother and I were

in the process of getting some important documents. We heard
voices saying we were not going to be able to continue the
process that we carried on for so long because it was
jeopardized. People built the walls so high that it was almost
impossible to climb it. I met someone who held a high rank
position in the police department of Newark, New Jersey. I
would sit in his police car and at times he would have to direct
others to do some of the things that would come up in the
police radio. His family PBA card also took me out of a few
pulled over situations and when I was asked where I got that
card, I lied and responded that he was dating my mother. He

26
was married and I think he said to have three kids. I needed a
favor and he had the power to help; therefore, I didn’t think
twice. I went inside the place he picked, took it all off and
allowed him to see beneath what I was wearing while I saw him
put away his gun, handcuffs and uniform; I took him to my
paradise, my body is a wonderland for him. He would talk on
the phone with the wife and children while I would be giving him
my silent, devoted attention. When I told my mother that I had
found a way to get us back on track to continue what we barely
had hopes for—but that there was a price that I needed to pay
—she then said that I had to do anything necessary in order for
us to survive. I immediately remembered our trip to La-La-land
in Sao Paulo. My mother and I agreed that we didn’t need to
face double jeopardy. We carried on for a while and with those
walls in our way, “Mr. Chief in command” gave me his hand to
climb them.

Years later, the place we used to hang out in the police car is
the same place I used to get drugs from a drug dealer. What a
small world of cyclical loop for the dope show.

Do you bleed? Keep bleeding, bleeding Love?

27
Galatians 6:1-6

1 Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in

a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore
that person gently. But watch yourselves, or
you also may be tempted. 2 Carry each other’s
burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law
of Christ. 3 If anyone thinks they are something
when they are not, they deceive
themselves. 4 Each one should test their own
actions. Then they can take pride in
themselves alone, without comparing
themselves to someone else, 5 for each one
should carry their own load.6 Nevertheless, the
one who receives instruction in the word should
share all good things with their instructor.

28
 Chapter 2
Conscience Paralysis
Five Finger Conscience Punch- The Wrong Side of My
Heaven- 2017

My conscience paralyzed me once again today. “What a

shame,” it said, judgmentally.
As I was jogging in the morning, I saw an old lady grabbing
onto the railings for dear life as she tried to walk down the
stairs. I jogged past, smiled, said “Good Morning” with loud
music playing in my ears, and kept on running away without
extending my hand to help.
Which side am I walking today: the right side of my heaven or
the wrong side of my hell? I am so used to blame the Devil, but
who am I to blame. I felt the same as the Devil might who is
used to get all the blame, I felt guilt and shame.
Jogging with arms wide open to feel the cool wind dry my
sweaty skin, there I was all alone. I could have been a hero, but
instead I became made of stone. Right or wrong, it is easy to
tell simply because I chose my wrong side of heaven and the
righteous side of my hell.
I am not defending the Devil just because he looked exactly like
me, but when I heard God’s voice he also sounded like me. If I
was the fruit of a tree, I would have fallen descending
downwards further away from heaven, closer and closer to the
righteous side of my hell.

When you read my mind, you will know my stories. You will see
the similarities that we have been through. All my life, I have felt
sorry for myself because I thought all the uphill climbs were too
high for me to walk through. I didn’t surrender, but I fell deep
into the guilt and shame of my conscience. So many empty
days and nights, I have lost count of how many that I spent
sleeping to wake up only to put something in my stomach to
survive. I lost faith in myself to the point that I didn’t care to
shower, brush my teeth or step foot outdoors, certainly not even
to work. I spent years alone in my room just looking out the
window so I wouldn’t see anyone or anyone see me. But then it
came to me how love felt—and how I wanted to feel that love I
once had again.

29
 I started to accept my sorrow.
I surrendered and let go from holding on to not accepting the
reality of my truth.

This is when I began jogging again, something I loved to do 5-6

times a week but I had not done in years. My faith in myself
was getting restored. Did I perhaps wake with my right left
wrong prior to getting out of bed?

Ever since I was a child, I always had a lot of headaches,

strong migraines with rays of light that brightened my vision
while my eyes were opened and when closing my eyes. I could
see the rays of lightning that formed the infinite symbol around
my closed eyes and a nausea that dominated me as I was
having or getting out of the migraine. I believe I was born with
the same problem my mother says she has but on the opposite
side, I have a vision problem on the left eye and she has on the
right. About a decade ago, I had Lasik surgery done where they
could correct my vision to almost its perfection. But not quite
two years after I had the surgery, I started to get eye infections.
The ophthalmologist explained that every time I had an
infection, layers of scars formed that covered my vision. Today I
can see perfectly through a pinpoint.

All my life, I have also had a different reaction from others at

funerals. My Christian aunt that I lived with, for a brief period
after my mother migrated from Brazil to United States, used to
say that I have a “mockingbird soul”. I used to at times not be
able to control my laughing, even as others were mourning.
That same sarcasm came forward when a supervisor called my
attention at work for something that made no sense to me or
because it was averse to what had really happened. Also, at 35,
when I came to believe in God again—and when I discovered
what it really meant to be in love (love is patient, love is kind but
love is also hidden in lies).

Having grown up in a family and society that turned their back

on me, I began to lose respect. You see, I have known that I am
homosexual since I was about six years old—and thus, was
already fighting the hatred around me. Nobody ever offered to
pick me up on their lap to talk about what everyone was
commenting behind my back. But I could hear them saying the

30
things they spoke out loud: that I was "a little queer," that their
“God” would never accept me; that I would burn in the flames of
"hell", that I could be beaten, kidnapped, lied to, raped and
killed because I was an abomination and therefore deserved to
be punished. Killed!
How, then, could I believe in the God they preached about? If
“God” had created me to be in love with another man and not
accept me the way I was instead expecting me to change, that
“God” was not worthy of me—and perhaps I should just choose
hell anyways, where all the hot shirtless men would be.

In silence, I started to hate others, and to live always running,

watching my back, waiting for something to happen to me. I
also did not accept myself as being gay because of the torture
of being unable to freely express myself. It was a struggle to
understand myself because I had only my conscience to talk
about what was happening with me. I accepted what people
said against me but I did not allow myself to be controlled
because I was not what people thought and said of me to be.
Although, I had made my mind up about who I was, it was not
easy to accept myself.

Girls found me attractive meanwhile my desire, attraction was

to be with boys. For a long time, I had to pretend to be who I
wasn’t meant to be and lie when I was approached by a girl.

I hated my father. I feared him and was disgusted by deep

inside from a place no one could see or touch in even to only
look at him. I could not stay with him alone and if he tried to
give me his hand to go somewhere along with him, I would
burst into tears, scream desperately, throw a tantrum and cry
uncontrollably for my mother to save me. As I grew, I stopped
misbehaving this way, but the same hatred and terror remained
inside.

This feeling later also extended to the two people that I never
thought it possible to happen, with my mother and my sister.
There were many disappointments I faced with them because
of their faith. Their thoughts of the bible taught them to
disapprove of me; of the concept of love and intimacy between
two men.

31
My mother then went above and beyond. My mother kicked me
out from home for being gay. She accused me of betraying her
–to sleep with her boyfriend. She never accepted me to be gay.
I had to every chance she got; listen to her preaching about her
belief of her hateful god. I had to endure the way she looked at
me with such hate and disgust. But when I needed to lay in bed
with another man to benefit her, I was an angel falling from the
sky into her life.

As the years passed, I realized that I had a choice not to accept

to be the one to pay the price for the suffering and anguish that
I believe my mother and people who disapproved of me held
inside. But something she once said shook me to my bones.
“First in my life is God,” she told me. God came before her
children. God came before me. My mom also accused me of
stealing from her “fortune”, the money from the properties she
had acquired from the divorce with my father that she trusted
me to sell in Brazil.

For a long time, I thought it was not possible to forgive my

mother. My actions when we were together spoke loud and
clear against my words of forgiveness. I still hated her by the
way I talked to her, by the way I looked at her and by the way I
thought of her. Some reptilian part of my mind—the part that
fought to somehow defend myself; to survive—made me want
to spit in her face, even take a piss on her grave but she was
still alive. I had always believed in love but I mostly knew
discrimination and hatred, and that build a strange desire of
thirst to hear about others suffering for me to feel better about
myself. This feeling to leave everyone behind became dominant
in my life, and solitude was my best friend.

Baby, you’re a Firework- Stealing Explosions

A memory: I was just a child, likely younger than eight. I was
short on money, or didn’t steal enough from my father’s wallet
or his sports store. I headed to a convenience store on my
bicycle a bit far away from my house where I already had a plan
in mind to steal a couple boxes of firecrackers to play in the
backyard of the city ranch we lived in. As I grabbed and
attempted to hide the boxes, a thrill came over me. The
convenience store owner did chase me as I walked out of the
store, and I had never trembled so much in my entire life as I
jumped on my bicycle parked just outside, then took a different

32
route back home to decoy the streets that paved the way home.
I remember stopping somewhere under the branches of a big
tree on the sidewalk to contemplate that I had become a bandit
and a fugitive. I was afraid to be caught and had to make my
decision as to keep what I had stolen, throw it out or go back to
return it. I went home and gathered my friends to enjoy the
explosions of the firecrackers. The echoes of the silenced walls
that surrounded our ranch multiplied the sound of each one lit
up in all the experiments we created to see it explode, break
bricks, destroy things, even kill bugs and insects. Little did I
know that my father, instead of working that day, had taken a
break for a nap? He stormed out of his bedroom and for an
instance, I was afraid he had figured out what I had done to get
the goods but noticed with his questions he knew nothing about
the convenience store, being chased by the store owner or me
having stolen the fire crackers. Still, he was angry the
explosions had awoken him. As he screamed at me, my friends
were ashamed and wanted to leave. My father intervened with
his order to keep everyone to see what he was about to do. He
grabbed his jungle machete, grabbed me by my arms and
demanded I bend over with my ass inclined forward. My father
took a good look at my friends facing a different direction.
“Look!” he commanded, cutting each firecracker head, and then
hitting me with the flat side of the machete.
Stubborn and resolute in my anger and embarrassment, I cried
only in silence, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing
he was inflicting pain. He then told my friends to go home and
demanded that I lay in bed with him to sleep as he attempted to
apologize for what he had done. But even as he seemed to feel
guilty, I planned in my head how to get even with that man who
never been a loving father and only showed me his hate. I
hated him right back and my vindictive plan was planted in my
brain. I watered that seed every single moment of my time, day
and night, until I got the chance to explode it like those
firecrackers. He had it coming.
At just eight, I talked to my mother, supporting her to divorce my
father. I stepped in front of my mother to defend her when I saw
that my father raised his hand to attack her while they
screamed and argued. From that moment on, I began to be a
vengeful person; to plan how to avenge the person who did
something against me that was not to my liking. From my
parents to family to friends to relationships, I would plan in my

33
head before acting to be vengeful on whatever it was done
against me.
The day I got in front of my mother to defend her, my father’s
mother was over, my grandmother. I headed towards the
outside kitchen. I don’t remember if it was to grab my mom a
cup of water to calm her down after the fight with my father as
my grandmother stopped me in the way with a smirk on her
face as if she was the one who planned the argument. What
was she doing in my house anyways? And with the same
sarcasm I have had all my life; she turned to me and asked if
my father knocked her out? As if she had planned to be there to
see what was going to happen. I hated that woman for most of
her life thereafter, for that reason and so many others. She, in
my eyes, was not a righteous woman. All her life, she had
“slaves”; people working as housekeepers, just like my parents
had. We all exploited them to the maximum making them work
days and nights with very little pay, not allowing them to take
breaks, to stand for periods over 12 hours, limiting their food
intake but my grandmother was even more unfair to her
workers and I witnessed many times the way they were
mistreated.

Who knows, maybe the weight on her conscience for

everything she had a chance to make it right throughout her life
but didn’t--dragged her down to the point of getting Parkinson’s
disease. Only she would know. There was not enough wind to
blow her sins away or enough rain to wash her sins down the
drain because she never apologized to anyone, not as far as I
know. Grandma seemed to pretend to be the good wife prior to
my grandpa having a heart attack after eating the food she had
sent for him to eat away from home. For me, it could have been
an amazing cover up to poison him into a heart attack around
faces in the crowd instead of at home. Avenged sevenfold, I
wish you were here grandpa.

I hope nature will be “blown away” with my way of thinking.

Let’s go back to Basics –– The Quiet Observant Child - UR

Burn the books, all the books you can get the hands on from
my parents’ library.
I am still haunted by this incriminating evidence.

34
The memory I have of my father raging in our land, his land,
while he set fire to most of the books. On the same land, we
had three properties: one house with five bedrooms, four
bathrooms, two living rooms, dining room and kitchen, two
upstairs balconies and a full house length car garage, even a
grass soccer field and an area for the many servants we had.

I don't remember exactly every sentence he kept saying as he

would tear up pages of very old and new books to introduce
them into the flames. The books seemed valuable. Maybe our
ancestors—
Native Brazilian Indian, South African, Italian, Portuguese—,
had kept those books, them to Brazil from Europe or Africa.
There is not much I can tell, everyone in the family seem up to
the year of 2017 to have mixed emotions of truth to where we
all came from.

"No one needs to have an education!” my father kept on

repeating. "All of my money will be buried with me when I die!”
“No one will take my money!”
That day, my mother could save a few books that she thought it
was important to have or keep. She desperately kept looking for
a place to hide the books from my father.

Fast forward a decade or so: I am 16, and my grandmother is

my guardian to take the flight to New Jersey with my new
identification, my passport. I was leaving my past behind and
everyone associated with it. I didn’t care what type of people I
would have to deal with--the kind of people I dealt with in my
past, including my family, only brought disappointment, cruelty,
selfishness and homophobia.
I needed a fresh start.

Focusing my eyes on what my father was doing with such fury, I

thought to myself even at just eight years old: I will never need
your money. However, ruthless as he was, it was so pitiful to
see a reaction of a man showing no love to his
accomplishments, disrespect to the family belongings, and
despising nature for bringing that toxicity to the air that that we
breathe and the trees, for surrounding beneath that fire, the
leaves got dehydrated and ashes scattered with the wind. I kept
thinking: This is far from the kind of person I want to be.

35
I was ahead of my time.

At that moment, I formed my train of thought that when I grew

up, I would not need him or his money, that I would be better
than him and have my own achievements. I had the opportunity
to leave Brazil because my mother had already lived in New
Jersey for a couple of years. So, I caught the flight to see her
after so long because she couldn’t travel anymore and as I did,
time still turns the pages of the book its burned avenged
sevenfold so far away from home.

When I turned 19, I made my life plan.

- Be a manager
- Buy a house
- Have a good car
- Marry
- Have children

My time frame to reach my goals was at my 30 years of age to

reach it. At the age of 31, I was hired as the Customer Service
Manager for Banco do Brazil in New York City. By this point, I
had already bought my house, I had the car I wanted, and I was
married to the person I ´´loved´´. I missed the plan calculation
by one year, and kids were not even close to being in the
picture, but I accepted that with everything else I had
accomplished. It was either buy kids or buy a house and I
chose a house. I say buy a kid because have you ever seen the
price to adopt a kid? I was also living the moment when the
United States of America returned to me my right as a citizen of
the country: gay marriage rights. (I say, “Returned to me”
because it was always my right; people just decided to judge
me and to take that right from me.) One of my bishop Briggs
dream, I felt that I was born in this lifetime to experience was
finally being accomplished. My personal dream came true now;
I live to see the other.

After purchasing my house, I was also able to host a friend who

had been kicked out from home by his stepmother for being gay
meanwhile his father didn't seem to stand up for his own son. I
also helped a lesbian friend kicked out by her aunt. At the time
she was already living by the help of her `´friends`´. When I saw

36
her posting on social media, how she was left locked outside
with her baggage on top of the snow and outside in the freezing
cold weather, with no money and nowhere to go, I also
welcomed her in as if both were me, going through a rough time
being kicked out with no home to go to. At a later time, there
was another friend who had gone through some rough times,
alone in USA, gone through a break-up and had left his job. He
was also living in my house to recover from his financial
downfall. There we were, total of four gays (with me) and one
lesbian living under my roof.

It was rare to speak to my mother. Yet she, too, was going

through tough times and needed a place to live. I almost
refused or pretended I could not do anything to help her as she
was going through the same situation that she once had put me
through. Eventually, I agreed to help in the same conditions as
the others: two months without needing to help with the house
expenses so they could reestablish financial stability; and after
two months, if they wanted to continue living in the house, they
could rent the room and stay.

But even helping her, I could not look my mother in the eye. It
came to my attention that she was preaching to the gays in the
house; that we all needed salvation, otherwise we were going
to burn in hell. I learned also that she had taken it upon herself
to repaint the work that was already done in her room; the attic
had been completely renovated and was beautifully painted and
natural wood put on the ceiling as a design and trims. She
painted over the combination of sanded paint with baby blue
paint destroying most of the natural wood. After speaking my
mind as she cried, I realized I just could not disguise my hatred.

Prior to taking my mother in, she was living through being a

hostage of her man. He was torturing her, raping and
threatening to kill everyone in our family. Against my desire to
help her as a mother, I took her to the police department for her
to press charges against her beloved man. I heard the entire
story as she cried her eyes out. I looked at her with the same
hate and disgust she used to look at me. I only helped her as I
would help a starving cat in the middle of the street.

37
We said let's get married but Baby I Love the Way You Lie -
Simple Plan for a Promise of a Jagged Edge- In the End
mash up MN’s Linked to the Park - Married March 22, 2011-
Divorce February 06, 2014 - Friendship since 2001

See before it all

I already have said
All of the things I needed to say from this
Before, I was very mean but my love for you came from an
angry heart
But before it all
Was it for the first 7 years of friendship before we started this
relationship?
I considered you to be my love but in a friendship
I played that I loved you from the start
Who would have known we would go as far as getting married?
I didn't know I could have fallen apart for holding that love so
tight and
I couldn't stand the thought of us not being together, of we living
apart
Because I met you at the altar in our planned suits and chosen
half golden and half silver rings for us to start
We were young but we decided to just do it
I must confess that since I was a child, marriage was the only
thing I wanted to preserve.
It took a long time for me to open sexually to someone
Because at the age of 15 going on 16 with the many No's I said,
I still allowed someone to force me into it.
But I was so tired of the night outs we used to have as friends
to come home with emptiness
And
Oh, wow! Thinking back we used to hang out 50 weeks out of
the year
Faithfully one, two or more times a week
And we done it all
All the boys we kissed
I was so done with it
Cuz when we made love
I just wanted to give you my all
I just wanted to be with only you
And I thought you were gonna wanna be with only me too
I fell asleep waiting by the phone

38
 To wake up in the middle of the night to find out you were still
gone
I sent you a message asking where you have been.
You pretended that nothing was promised to me
I trusted you
We were pushing this as far as we could go
I fell back asleep
When I woke up to get ready for work
You were still trying to make me believe
Because of all of this
There's only one thing that we both know
But you just stood there and watch me cry
That was not alright because you heard the way it burned
You love the way you were so used to lie about who you are.
There is no way for me neither to tell you nor to show you what
it was like
To find out those messages you sent
To hire an escort for the night
Your wrong felt like justifying my right
It was like I couldn’t breathe I wanted to knock you out
I was drunk from your love as well as high off from my hate
But I thought I loved you so much
I was restless but that night I still needed your embrace
I promise you, I didn’t know what to do
I was breaking down from our vows for worse or for good
I just needed a place to hide away from you
I was attempting to give us another chance
But like the broken vows
We were breaking away
We were slipping through
Remember when we talked about kids
I said that I wanted one from me, one from you
And one more kid to come along to be adopted like I felt I
needed to
My dream as a kid was to build a gay family of me, the kids and
you
But I for a long time
While we were together
Couldn't stop to think
Of the: where would I be in 5 years question that I was asked
many times in my yearly reviews.
I never pictured me and you
Now I know I said some nasty things

39
 Attempted to take them back
So I don’t fall back into my usual hateful youth.
But baby please don’t forget you were the same as me when it
came to betrayal
We were just both blinded with our lies
Or were we just hiding our truth?
We were holding each other back
We were burning each other’s fake truth
We tried so hard but that’s alright
Will we ever say the words we are feeling?
We pushed as far as we both could go
Even if we kept on trying to hold from watching it to go out of
the window
We both didn’t recognize each other anymore
I felt apart and almost lost it all
In the end
The memory of our past is what made me grow
So, I apologize for all my lies
And I thank you for letting me fly on free from you.
Because baby I never told you this
I married you because of your body,
Your 8 inches thick shlong
More than I wanted to marry the real you.

In addition to having done many upgrades fixing the house, my

husband always financially helped his family, who were still
living in Brazil, before helping me – that’s what I was told by
him but failed to pay attention to what his brother used to say
about him. For a long time, he was unemployed, and that also
set me back. But when he was well-established at work, he did
not feel compelled to help with anything extra at home; as if he
was just one of the roommates and his brother that we had
living with us in the house.

I began to realize that my bills stressed me out. For a long time,

every night I went to sleep saddened, and only woke up more
angry, bitter, unsatisfied and unhappy. As usual, I would wake
up an hour earlier before the time for me to shower to get ready
to leave for work. It was the time I needed to drink some coffee
while staring out of the window otherwise I would take my
garbage from home to work. As I gazed out at the sun rising, I
kept on asking myself: Where are these feelings coming from? I
had an almost perfect life, the one I had supposedly both

40
wished and planned for, and had almost everything I had
dreamed of. So why was I living as les miserables?

Then one late spring morning I woke up with the usual

melancholy and bitterness inside. But something seemed to
scream inside me, louder and louder, that things were not right.
I was no longer able to live that way. I probably would have
divorced myself if I could. It was when I was ready and about to
leave home for work that I had the feeling and desperate desire
to check my husband's cell phone. I discovered his betrayal--
which he was paying for session with escorts, using the money
that could help me get rid of the financial problems I
encountered. I confronted him and he finally confessed but said
not to have done anything other than go to the escorts place.
Later, after trying to get past what had happened, I still couldn’t
sleep and wake up in peace. At least I knew what had
happened but the feeling of unhappiness still followed me the
same way before I found out the truth. We had a family cell
phone plan. I decided to check all the numbers he contacted
that was listed on his line. I could go as far back as one year
and the last day that one year back, the number was from an
escort. I found so many numbers and as the numbers would be
searched in any search engine, the site of the escorts would
come up and you know what they say? (Finders are keepers).

I have often believed that we have the sixth sense to feel when
something is right or wrong, and I was happy once with him, but
for a long time something had been bothering me. Our
relationship was different from the other relationships I had
before. After all, we were very good friends for years before we
started to date, to later get married. I knew a lot from his past
and he did know a lot about mine, but there were many things
we had never shared with one another. While I was curious to
know, I would get upset if told. We had mutual agreements on
going out on our own even though I wanted to be invited to go
out with him and his friends, and would love for him to tag along
when I went out with mine. Therefore, we trusted and didn’t
hold each other back to go out on our own. I think that's how a
relationship for me should be. But little did I know that
withholding the truth from being told, cause the law of attraction
to reflect right at me. The same way he was cheating on me, I
was also cheating on him in my conscience and voicing out
loud with my friends behind his back. I had it coming but was

41
too blinded by his cock which it was mostly what I wanted to
see and keep like it was my property.

Another memory: Dancers in #NYC, 2017, and isn’t that

ironic?

I went to a bar/ night club in New York City during Gay Pride
week with a friend promoting his friend's new underwear line.
We were one of the first ones to get in the club.
I noticed the place was transformed with many small booths
divided by black curtains and my curiosity went above and
beyond.
I asked someone who worked at the place, “What are those
little booths for?”
He responded that they were for private dances, for which one
had to pay.
Then I couldn’t stop thinking that those were the kind of places
my husband liked to go with his friends; the kind of place he
chose to not bring me along.
One of the dancers, he was Brazilian and from the same state
where I was born in.
"Uai so,” he said, and I decided to pay my dues to society—to
hire him for a few minutes away from the dance floor.
As we walked towards the booth, he told me: `´I have a
boyfriend`´. They were in the same line with each other to do
what they had agreed upon.
They had an agreement to do what they needed for the night to
reach their goal.
I felt relieved that I wasn't going behind anyone's back, just like
I had done in the past to someone, but they confirmed my belief
that nobody belongs to anyone unless they choose and accept
each other as they were.
I kissed him for a few minutes instead of having a lap dance
and then went on to kiss another soul.
I learned, that odd evening and throughout my marriage, to be
more open and share my feelings, my thoughts and whatever I
would like to do. In sickness or in health, for better or for worse,
the next person I will date I will allow him to know all my truth
for him to choose to accept or decide to hit the road.

42
It is my decision to do whatever I choose, but I believe it is the
right for the other person to know if I ever breakaway from our
vows.

In all honesty, It was not so much the cheating that shook me,
but my financial need of the time. I had my fantasies too, at first
probably I would have denied them, but eventually I would
come around. My divorced husband and I, prior to getting into a
relationship, we would bring boys home and play as friends we
benefits with a third wheel.

Then, however, my life began to collapse. I tried to get over the

betrayal, but that feeling of being the victim overtook me. My
husband was trying extortion against me in the end of our
marriage. In order for him to sign the divorce papers, I would
have to buy him out. We had agreed in settling with a specific
amount prior to signing into the marriage certificate if anything
happened to our marriage. I blackmailed him with the dirt I held
against him. It was either go to prison or give me the divorce.
Ultimately, he gave up on his rights over my property and I as a
Good Samaritan, cut him a check with an amount 4 x less than
he demanded I to pay him subtracting my fees.

Sometime later, with the divorce already ended, I tried to rebuild

my life and the feeling of the most important loss I felt inside:
the sanctity of marriage was broken with the divorce. I needed
to change my defeat, my life. I decided to go to Carnival in
Brazil for vacation and be who I always wanted to be – a slut.

After spending 14 days in Brazil releasing all my inner demons,

I met someone on my last night. I thought I knew what it was to
love someone but I had never felt that way by looking at a guy. I
had sex with many guys plus a threesome with one of the most
beautiful guy I have ever met along with his boyfriend prior to
the last night of vacation in which I decided to take it easy
instead of being a whore. But of course, I have loved before, I
have been madly in love, I have done crazy things for love, got
to experience platonic love -- I found that to be the most
beautiful love of them all. I also allowed someone who said to
have feelings for me to experience my platonic love. I was
happy to just chill, spoon him, and to prepare him my best
cooking dishes. Although in both situations that I experienced
platonic love, it turned out to transform into a sexual desire and

43
attempt to have intercourse from my part. And coming to think
of all my exes—not being ourselves and acting all foolish in
jealousy—must have been what got us looking so crazy in
love. I suffered with my divorce because of my beliefs, and
blamed it all on my ex-husband not looking at my faults. I made
plans for my future and I never envisioned him along.

You know that love that can wait for one, two, perhaps even
three years without giving anyone a chance to enter and stay in
your life (especially with a person for whom you kissed only one
night and fell in love from the first moment)? Even with his back
to me, before seeing his face, smile, or to hear his voice, I knew
I had found something I longed for: to be in love. It was bigger
than fireworks. It was a connection made from up above. Silly it
seems but that is how I felt.

Still, dating from a distance began to be a weight on the

conscience, especially because we could not bring him to the
U.S. He tried to secure a visa three times and I couldn’t
financially afford to move: I had a mortgage, home equity used
to the maximum, was backed up in credit card bills and the
house market was still down. I would have lost most of the
money I’d invested to fix my property, over $50,000 to get in the
house and over $0,000 to fix it up. If I would’ve sold the house, I
would lose half of what I invested and another half from the half
to pay all my credit card bills.

So, I sold my car (I also decided to sell because of the DUI). I

broke up the long-distance relationship and I lost my job I very
much loved to hate at the bank.

I was so despondent, I consciously considered killing myself,

and unconsciously, intoxicated to the point of black in and out,
tried to commit suicide. At the holiday party of Banco do Brasil, I
had had an amazing time there, even winning a dancing
competition. But, I picked up a fight with the restaurant
manager, broke some property items of the restaurant and
acted as a maniac while the DJ was blowing smoke on the
dance floor from the smoke machine that set the fire alarm off.
The roof was on fire. Personally, from what I could recall with
all the confusion going on through my head was that the
restaurant manager acted the opposite from all the fire drills
training New York City requires everyone to endure every year.

44
I think I acted the same as the fire drills anticipated. On the way
home, as we headed to the subway, I only remember parts of
what had happened. I had taken allergy medication earlier, and,
unbeknownst to me, as it mixed with alcohol, it caused me to
black out and become a walking dead. I would be a demon
after my pound of human flesh.

Most of us had to take the same subway. While waiting for the
train, I hung by the edge with my ex-coworkers, who by some
miracle kept me from the fall. I even almost dragged someone
along with me. If it wasn’t for the others to help my co-worker,
who was the first to leap to my rescue, we both would have
fallen under the train or only me if she would let me go.

Memory: My house was built in 1930's. My husband and I

hired some of his friends, immigrants, who are very
knowledgeable in construction. In this particular situation, they
were off the books acting as plumbers. We hired their service to
upgrade some old pipes caved in the walls of the property. Prior
to completing the job, some old iron pipe burst down into
pieces. To finish the work they were hired to do, they needed to
spend more time and money but took it upon themselves to
complete the extra work without reaching out to us but trusting
us to do the right thing. When they mentioned the price change
due to what had happened, my husband picked up an argument
with his friends. I agreed to pay but didn't make it right when it
came to the moment to cut the cord and write them a check. I
followed my husband's voice and let them be cheated over the
amount we owed them for the work done. Sometime later, my
husband and I were hired as construction workers. Since I had a
valid driver’s license, I would also be a designated driver to
pick up some of the other workers. We were not paid for a
weeks’ worth or maybe it was two weeks’ worth of workload
we had done. At that time, it was a significant amount that we
both needed to pay our monthly dues and put food on our table.
We were always frustrated for being raped on money we
worked very hard for but did not get compensated. Years later, I
thought about my ex-husband's friend and reached out to make
it right. I had already lost my job at the bank. He was a father of

45
two kids; I took food from their table, clothes from their body
and held them hostage to be unable to pay their monthly dues. I
was living through the ghost shinedown on me as I kept on
getting hit with numerous life situations of being treated unfair
because I also suffered every butterfly effect I had brought upon
the person that I hired but refused to pay the extra work he had
to endure on my behalf.

Although, leaving a bill unpaid while expecting others to

pay their dues to me is definitely giving me diarrhea --
my own voodoo against myself. I am definitely heads
over feet double over this ironic way to wash my hands
clean of all of my own blame. It is all your fault yo.

Prosperity: how can i wish others to prosper or how can i desire

to prosper when my actions condemned me the opposite? I will
definitely shinedown, I´ll follow you down.

46
 Chapter 3
Mind Reading
The Way that you know me

I will read your mind

If you message me your story
I'll know what you are going through
We have similar stories
The feeling to feel sorry
Yeah One day will make us see it through
You have not yet surrendered
Even though most of the times
You feel like you will do
But you still hanging on a little hope
Because love you once knew
There is no effortless way out
Therefore
Keep on reading through
Because you know what you want it the most
Bleed with me
you are not ready to go
When your heart still beating in doubt
Of what you can't see to what is unknown
Before you ask me some questions
I hope here the will to find what you long for
For what I am not sure what to say
I hope we stick together
Because together we can find our ways
We both believe
Our lives were empty
And we cried from loneliness
But I am not worrying
I believe in the end
Love will win it all the way

47
We Never Gonna Survive unless we get a Little Crazy - I
STAND ALONE

(Conversation translated from Portuguese to English to the

best of my knowledge; Also, please note that I translated
the way the person talks)

2/20/17, 3:57:08 PM: Judas-Judah:

My mother was from Maceio, Brazil, I grew up in Sao Paulo and
she is from Maceio, my father is Lebanese and this is my
mixture.
2/20/17, 3:59:43 PM: Judas-Judah:
LOL, you are a funny guy. Man, my family as would say my
grandmother, trouble. My grandmother was black from Maceio,
Brazil, my mom’s father, my grandfather was Armenian, white
as paper. They had my mom and my aunt. My mother was, I
think, was the most beautiful woman that I have seen all my life.
Darker skin than I with very straight hair like <“Marlucy”> as an
example and huge green eyes, that’s my father’s mixture...
(Choke)... my mom’s mixture and her father’s side. My mom
married a Lebanese and I was born along my sisters. Mixed
race is good, right?
2/20/17, 3:59:53 PM: Judas-Judah:
When I first saw you working, I thought you were from Portugal
with a nice ass but when you spoke to me, I knew you weren’t
from Portugal.
2/20/17, 10:17:10 PM: Judas-Judah:
Syncretism is cool. This thing of religions I am well diverse also
I grew up as a Muslim in Islam there are some things I haven’t
stopped following like for example I ate pork at 36 years of age.
I had never tasted anything in my life. At 36 I ate a piece of
bacon and until today I became a fan not knowing how I could
stay so long without eating bacon but I did not taste everything
of pork. I still have some other things one must not follow
because we grow seeing that dagger man. I like Buddhism a lot
as well. Allan Kardec, I've been once or twice so I do not know
what to tell you, Umbanda and similar I went while I was in
Brazil but I didn’t take part of it, I did go once or twice but did
not catch my attention.
2/21/17, 11:16:17 AM: 6x a Week Runner: 2017
Judah, Good Morning. I have a question about Islamism. How
is the Islamism, how does it see homosexuality, how it sees

48
prejudice, bullying and any other form of discrimination in your
view?
2/21/17, 11:18:34 AM: Judas-Judah:
Good Morning, my point of view on homosexuality in Islam is
one of the most…
2/21/17, 11:18:55 AM: Judas-Judah:
Seriously, it is one of the most hypocrites of the religions. I
believe because homosexuals are considered to be…
2/21/17, 11:20:01 AM: Judas-Judah:
In the United Arab Emirates in the Middle East in general the
people who declare themselves gay may even be killed. After
the women’s protest of Cairo things have changed a little the
law protects a little more anyway so who has money or who has
a little power kills, people are found dead. They are considered
discriminated, the prejudice is very big, they don’t have the
society’s support, they don’t have anything and generally 98%
of those who are--must leave their countries because if they
don’t they can be killed therefore it is one of the most horrible
things there is.
I have a case in my family my father had 29 brothers my
grandfather had 13 wives living in the same house and with
these 13 wives they have 29 children one of them showed the
gestures a little flamboyant when he was little the brothers got
together and gave him a Beating. The brother went to the
Hospital and did not come back which means what they killed
him, understood? It is horrible.
2/21/17, 11:20:57 AM: Judas-Judah:
They tell from the parents they do not look at their children
because it is very common the cousins fuck each other while
they are young to keep the woman virgin understood? And the
parents don’t make a big deal for it. I every time that I went to
Lebanon I fucked all my cousins. I fucked all of them. The last
time I went to Lebanon was when my father died in 2010 one
more time before I went alone I was 23 years old that’s when I
was introduced to the whore’s lifestyle. I went to places in Beirut
in Afi Drain Saneer (???) and in Jordan where the whore’s
lifestyle is nothing that we see here in the USA compared to
what happens over there.
2/21/17, 11:27:32 AM: Judas-Judah:
They want to conserve the women virgin for marriage. They fix
the 16-17 years old girls for marriage with an old pig or even as
a younger couple and face the woman to marry her without
knowing her without loving without knowing it is very strange

49
I tell you the day we meet to chat I'll tell you my stories when I
was little I had sex with all my little cousins. I fucked all of them
inclusive last of them is today a plastic surgeon well known. He
lives in Brazil and was one of the last to graduate. This guy the
last time I fucked him, he was 5 years older than me 23 24
years. The last time I fucked him we really went for it. Then he
arranged a wedding. He got married and I think we even saw
each other before I was 22 or 23 but we last saw each other
was in 2010 at my father's funeral when I went to Lebanon take
my father’s body this cousin of mine hid away from me like the
devil runs from the cross. He didn’t allow me to get close to him
nor to his wife afraid that I would say something maybe. He
bottomed for me like a bitch. He is very gorgeous, a beautiful
mixture he was.

2/21/17, 11:35:29 AM: Judas-Judah:

If I really tell you my deep stories you will, I've realized that you
are an emotional person you will cry. just one point that you
need to know in 1978 the rumors of a Civil War in Lebanon
began I was 3 years old ... my mother lived there suffering and
getting beat up even by her sister-in-law, because besides
being black she was not converted to Islam and my father my
father he let people mistreat my mother then in 78 she saw the
chance to go back to Brazil to go away from that life of torture
And she told my father that she was leaving and she was going
to take me and my sisters, my father said no, you're leaving,
you cannot stay here but my children stay, never she said. One
day she left home at 10am with me and my 3 sisters with only
the body clothes and we went to the embassy of Brazil in
Lebanon that was a bunch of Lebanese who spoke Portuguese
And she declared herself a prostitute. I am a prostitute I have 4
children I do not know who the fathers were… this was 10am
when it was 4pm they were embarking my mother I and my
sisters
And according to my older sisters who say that my mother in
line to enter the plane, the men formed a line to spit on her
because she declared herself prostitute until then they did not
know that she was lying. My sisters said that until today they
cannot take this image of my mother sitting in the back of the
plane with us, crying and cleaning the spit off her.
So honestly, I think the Arabic culture is very beautiful but I do
not have very good memories of the things that I lived and
witnessed of my mother the way she was treated the ways we

50
were treated got it? Was very difficult and a beautiful culture but
it has the pros and Cons like all cultures but it's a very hard
culture very closed very violent. My father was one of the most
violent and strangest people I've ever met in my life.

2/23/17, 7:46:49 AM: Judas-Judah:

2/23/17, 7:46:49 AM: Judas-Judah:

2/23/17, 7:46:49 AM: Judas-Judah:

Me: Oh-oh-oh-oh I’m in love with Judas. Judas! Judah-ahs

51
What was I running from? Avenged sevenfold nightmare?

All my life, I ran away from those same people described by someone
who grew up in the Islamic community but I lived in Brazil where it all
began. Different countries but similar culture of vultures, pigs and people
who judge they have the right to choose the way others must be, say, or
do. The “straight” guy comes out of the dark with a hard on, with another
guy too while they pretend to others: their girlfriend, wife, and family of
what they are not. Those "straight" guys are called in Brazil "incubados"
which mean incubated or better say locked in the closet. It seems that
those are the ones running after people and making it their right to take
the life of someone like me, just like "Dandara Trans" because of their
guilty conscience and fear of what could be told. Fear to be taken out of
the closet by the gay guy or transgender they secretly had sexual
intercourse with perhaps? Or is it jealousy to be openly gay? Fear to be
taken out of the closet maybe?

I have had sexual relation with two male cousins and attempted with
probably most of the other cousins I have, unsuccessfully. I also solicited
sex from most of my ex-boyfriends, little brother, father, guys I knew and
got to meet. One of the cousins, I had sexual intercourse, was purposely
out of revenge against an aunt of mine, plus he used to be very cute. My
entire life, I wanted to avenge against his mother. His mother, “Mrs.
Christianity” belief didn’t make my childhood any easier. So, I took one
for the team or better say that my cousins took one for the team as I
secretly joined the Islamic faith without even knowing. I made love with
the other cousin just because when growing up he was the stud, the bad
boy type of cousin that drove all the girls drooling over him. I guess that I
can add Islamic as part of my religious practice as well by definition don’t’
I fit the profile? Dandara is gone, but she used to be mine.

I was running from empty threats that existed in my conscience. I was

running from my fears. My guilty conscience made me fear everything
and everyone. Now, I am invincible. I am not a scared little boy
anymore.

52
I dare you to be the One and Only – Cutters - Pain- Love – Suffering
– Fascination - Mind Readings - The Guilty Shameless Pleasure -
2017

I have attempted to cut myself once or twice when the person I said to be
in love with and I broke up. I was unsuccessful. A pain to literally cut
another pain, didn’t work for me. Not in that sense that is. Looking at my
wrist now, I still have the scar left behind when I was trying to call out for
attention not in its righteous way. My scar is in the form of a cross on my
left wrist. There are many reasons someone chooses to switch pain and
learn to appreciate to endure the self-inflicted pain of cutting its own skin.
I find it to be art, simply beautiful. After reading minds and understanding
my whereabouts, I can only assume that it is easier to feel its own blood
gushing out of the body to satisfy the guilt of the shame we must bear--
most of the times, as a silence of the lamb.

Reading Diva’s Mind - Cutting - Mental Breakdown – Resistance -

Met Diva in 2001, she is now 36
*Definition of Stramota or Sramota= Shame (misspelled in messages)
Did you used to cut yourself?

Yea

Why?

I'm not really sure

When did you start cutting yourself?

2 years ago

That's when you started to get separated?

Yea

What's your belief in marriage?

Based on family, national origin and your own belief
and explain why

53
I believe it works for some people but for others no

That's your belief now.

What used to be your belief?
Think back; pretend you don't know what you know now

I used to believe vows were sacred especially in a church

Go back to the moments your family daily asked you about marriage

Sickness and health. Good times and bad. But not always true

That's your now thinking.

How long your parents are together?

37 yrs.

Wow beautiful I hope to have a long term like that one day ;)
Now tell me the belief of your parents national origin in regards to woman
who gets divorced or widowed
Which is the same belief of the community of skinny gatches (skinny
gatches totally wrong Croatian attempt to be written which it meant to
mean “drop your pants” meaning = society)
Lol

Lol
Divorce not in their vocabulary

Hahahhahahahhaha
I'm sorry

Especially if kids are involved

Rigid

If no kids not as bad

54
But still considered 'sramota'
Which means shame
What happened to me is sramota
Especially the mental illness part... more than divorce

Interesting
so you are shameless for hanging the mental breakdown?
Or 2x shame

Double shame

Sramotax2x2

2 years later

How do they react towards sramotas?

Embarrassed

But everything else still remains the same?

In the eyes of the community?

Yea

Do you think your family also considered you a sramota

I have to ask so I also can understand and not JO around the bushes
I'll keep on asking... so do you have the sramota principles of your
heritage in you?

Yea I do think my family considers me stramota

Not BC the divorce but BC of what happened after it
Mental illness etc.

With all that's being said, the cutting started after everything started to go
down in your marriage. Would you say you started to cut because you
also felt the pressure of stramota?
Mental breakdown due to the mental abuse of having to deal with the ex-
husband and cutting for carrying stramota on your shoulder?

55
Probably

The guilt of the shame

Yea

That’s the Way It Is – Cutting - Sometime about 5 years ago - Deo is

now 23 years old and Recent- Ex-ED is 17 years old.
(Conversation translated from Portuguese to English to the best of
my knowledge; Also, please note that I translated the way the
person talks)

4/17/17, 2:46:38 PM: Deo: Ah, my friend, my life is a misfortune.

4/17/17, 2:54:11 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Your story
matters to me
4/17/17, 2:54:56 PM: Deo: Just for you.
4/17/17, 2:55:04 PM: Deo: I cannot stand it
4/17/17, 2:55:21 PM: Deo: But I'm done with the person that I love.
4/17/17, 2:55:34 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Do you love
him?
4/17/17, 2:58:50 PM: Deo: do you know when you love a person that the
person loves you more but doesn’t want to take back on what’s done.
That’s my everyday life. Each day I am more in love with him. Today I
woke up with the feeling to run far away because the love I feel for him
doesn’t exist in this world but I feel that one day I will truly be happy, I just
think that. I don’t know what else to do to prove and show my love for
him only to kill someone for him
4/17/17, 3:00:36 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! What do you
think it went wrong?
4/17/17, 3:03:02 PM: Deo: What was wrong was that I came to live on
the street I live in, it has destroyed my life. He says that he wants to
break up because he wants to go back to church but that’s not why
because when we go back to church we don’t use lip stick, we don’t do
hair extensions and much more

56
4/17/17, 3:05:07 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! What else!?
(Annoyed)
4/17/17, 3:10:48 PM: Deo: I don’t know what else to do for this 1 year
and 7 months relationship last because the love has increased day by
day. I already have started to cut because of him. I have rented a house
for the two of us. I have gone hell and back to be happy with the love of
my life.
4/17/17, 3:16:17 PM: Deo: I know that in the beginning I did a lot wrong
but now I want to change because I love him so much. When we started
on October 3rd I didn’t like him that much until time passed by and my
love for him started to grow. We broke up but the love continued to grow.
I have been with a lot of people but it is him that I truly love. I will never
love anyone like I love him. I have proved in every form my love for him
and all the affection I know our love will never end because when two
people love each other they stay together forever. I cried so very much
when he asked to marry him. I was the happiest person in this world. I
didn’t know that love makes you that happy but I am very fortunate to
have met an angel in my life
4/17/17, 3:42:04 PM: Deo: I wanted to invite him out today?
4/17/17, 3:44:24 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! How did you
make a mistake?
4/17/17, 3:44:59 PM: Deo: I made a mistake because at first, I didn’t love
him and cheated on him
4/17/17, 3:45:25 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Does he
know of all the cheating?
4/17/17, 3:46:02 PM: Deo: yes, he does, it was only 2
4/17/17, 3:46:27 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Did you do
anything else wrong?
4/17/17, 3:47:13 PM: Deo: Nope. Every time we broke up I would start
going to parties and do drugs
4/17/17, 3:47:34 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Who started
to party and do drugs?
4/17/17, 3:47:50 PM: Deo: me
4/17/17, 3:48:03 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Why?
4/17/17, 3:49:47 PM: Deo: When we broke up and he started to date
Flow for me my life had ended right there therefore my life meant nothing
more for me. I started to drink all day, cut myself, do cocaine and smoke.

57
4/17/17, 3:50:27 PM: Deo: I want to go back with him again and invite
him out?
4/17/17, 3:53:53 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Tell me more
about him
4/17/17, 3:57:58 PM: Deo: He is the type of person who has double
personalities at the same time he is fine he is also not well you know
4/17/17, 3:58:25 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! I know a lot
about that
4/17/17, 3:58:28 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! And I have
noticed his behavior
4/17/17, 3:58:42 PM: Deo: right
4/17/17, 9:45:22 PM: Deo: I gave him my life and look at what he gave
me in return, nothing. My life is a mess. I fell in love with the wrong
person. My gosh, what have I done to my life never to move forward. If it
is to continue like this take me for you father because I can’t live this way
any longer for wanting a hug from him.
4/17/17, 9:50:00 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! The
heartache
4/24/17, 6:41:24 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! I have
something to say about the cuts...
4/26/17, 8:58:56 PM: Deo: I have cut for many reasons, because of a
boyfriend and because of the pleasure to see the blood. I feel so good
when I see the blood as I cut myself while I am drinking and while cutting
I start to also drink my blood. I don’t know why I love my self-inflicted
wounds so much and I make it deeper down the skin when I am by
myself as I get too sad and get depressed. I feel like cutting myself and
even have put a blade in my mouth and wrapped my tongue around it.
4/26/17, 9:15:44 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! But what
does bring it out the desire to cut you other than feeling to be depressed?
4/26/17, 9:16:47 PM: Deo: yes
4/26/17, 9:19:11 PM: Deo: Man, to want or not the love of my life is called
the Recent Ex-ed but I attempt to cover it up and today I really missed
someone then I really wanted to cut myself again, I really miss cutting.
4/26/17, 9:20:06 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Since when
do you cut yourself?
4/26/17, 9:22:38 PM: Deo: it has about 5 years
4/26/17, 9:22:40 PM: Deo:

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4/26/17, 9:25:19 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! That was
before the Recent Ex-ed, therefore that’s where I want to get… the
thought behind wants and needs to cut you
4/26/17, 9:26:14 PM: Deo: yes, it’s because
4/26/17, 9:26:17 PM: Deo: of me
4/26/17, 9:26:18 PM: Deo: Ex
4/26/17, 9:27:47 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Which one?
4/26/17, 9:28:06 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Recent Ex-
ed is too recent
4/26/17, 9:29:00 PM: Deo: Ex
4/26/17, 9:29:07 PM: Deo: First-Ex-Ed
4/26/17, 9:29:34 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! What
happened with him?
4/26/17, 9:31:42 PM: Deo: He lives in Bahia, Brazil and came to meet
me. I sent him money for him to come and everything you know but it
was everything very good, lasted one week and I started to cling a lot on
him then he left. He broke up with me then I started to lock myself in my
bedroom and cut myself.
4/26/17, 9:31:47 PM: Deo: and from there on
4/26/17, 9:31:54 PM: Deo:????
4/26/17, 9:33:07 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Do you feel
rejected by those you love?
4/26/17, 9:33:29 PM: Deo: By those I have loved
4/26/17, 9:33:30 PM: Deo: yes
4/26/17, 9:33:41 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Understood
4/26/17, 9:35:38 PM: Deo: Do you know when you like someone you
give everything to that person and start to do what you never did for
anyone else that was my life. I think I will be happy when I die, it will be
the best thing that would ever happen. In my head, I only think of death
to go to a bridge and jump. My time on earth is over now the only thing
left for me is death.
4/26/17, 9:37:36 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Do you know
what waits for you on the other side to be thinking like that?
You must give yourself the chance to make the choices that are for you
to be happy. You always must go after happiness until you can’t run no
more
4/26/17, 9:37:51 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! And you
have a lot of strength for many things

59
4/26/17, 9:39:00 PM: Deo: I have chased it too long
4/26/17, 9:39:15 PM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Never is too
much until it’s too much
Nunca é demais até ser demais
4/26/17, 9:39:57 PM: Deo: Always and I will never be happy because
everyone wants to see me on the ground
4/26/17, 9:40:06 PM: Deo: Everyone puts me in the mud
4/27/17, 12:34:09 AM: Deo: I always lived with my grandmother and then
I lived with a friend that I call an aunt because I love her so much. I lived
with her 9 years and when I went to live with my mother I spent little time
with my brother but he always loved me he even killed a person because
of me. I love him so much when he died my life had ended you know to
see him on the ground with 5 shots my life ended at that day he was
going to my job to have a bucket of acai (Brazilian sorbet made of acai
berry)
My dream was for him to have come to my job but didn't have time to say
that I love him. Today I love him much more even with him dead. My
nephew has his name, another love of my life. I will revenge his death
even if it is the last thing I do on earth because they've I feel for you is
the utmost real my brother. I love you. May god have you with him, mom
loves you so much. She cries all the time for you. Chez misses you a lot.
God will give you everything where you are little brother. I wanted you
here to laugh or to cry with me. You are everything. I remember the day
you were going to get married but now you can't because you are dead. I
love you and who killed you will die.
4/27/17, 12:43:28 AM: Deo: When I went out with my first boyfriend was
because he tried something with his sister. I was scared that he would try
again that’s why I stayed with him to take away his desire to be with her
and every time we went to play video game we hooked up because I was
very afraid. I love his sister very much so we stayed together for 2 years.
05/19/17 Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! This boy of yours
attempted to have sexual relations with his sister?
05/19/17 Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! When did this happen
and what happened during the 2 years period and after?
4/27/17, 5:08:20 PM: Missed Voice Call – (thinking to myself) didn’t
answer the call because I needed to read other than to hear his mind.
4/28/17, 1:40:23 AM: Deo: I am feeling very empty the only thing that
goes through my mind is to drink and cut myself. I feel so good when I do

60
that. My gosh, why is that I get this crazy feeling desiring to do it. A lot of
songs make me feel that way.
4/28/17, 1:41:59 AM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! Tell me about
the baby that died because of the Rocks you used to throw at your
pregnant aunt.
4/28/17, 1:46:15 AM: Deo: Oh my gosh, to tell this story kills me. I lived
with my aunt for a while and her husband never liked me. Therefore, I
went to live with my mom. After that I started to hate on my aunt and she
got pregnant with her baby. I always hated her and wished that baby to
never be born so I started to throw rocks at her every day. I was only 10
years. When my aunt told me her baby was dead, my life ended because
my cousin baby girl was born and beautiful with blue eyes. My aunt
breast fed and shortly after, she died. I feel really bad about it.
4/28/17, 1:49:25 AM: Always Forward. Next Uphill to Climb! That’s when
you started to cut yourself?
4/28/17, 1:50:01 AM: Deo: From that time on I started to become crazy

What do you say in taking chances - Diva?

I'm scared Ronny

I never been so scared in my life
What are you scared of?
More loss
I never feared my own death
But I always feared other people dying
To be scared is good
It's a feeling you get because
You have something to lose
So what else you fear?
Life
In taking chances?
In everything
I wake up, my heart pounding everyday
Could that be BC of fear or medication?
No I’m scared of life
I believe in something
Cool imma think about that
I'm tired Ronny

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Ughhhh
I been tired too
But now is physically
Tell me more
I'm too tired

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A gente se acostuma - We get used to live a life we are told to live by
our parents, by our friends, school, our job, society, church or whatever
or whichever faith you got or doesn't have any, by our government! When
we break free from our habits we become the "black sheep" of the family,
the outcast, the bullied, and the "stay away" society stamped in our
foreheads, we become the "evil" others run away from, we become
inmates locked in our conscience prison cell.

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 Chapter 4
Sleep Paralysis

The Sound of Silence

Welcome darkness
My childhood oldest friend
You come to paralyze me once again
and left only my eyes to see the silence of my pain
While the seed of a painful childbirth was kept in my brain

I was growing up
As I kept the choices made on my behalf in silence
I silently made my choices on hate

So many nights attempting to sleep through the paralysis

In my journey,
I carried a heavy weight
No one seemed to understand
Of why you hold me this way
And put fear through my brain

I found comfort in the puddle of a waterfall

in attempt to cross the path of dirt and stones
I was stuck between reality and dreams
We crossed each other’s pebble streams
And you reached out to me once again
Or was I trying to reach you instead?

Throughout my paralysis I have seen

Thousands of shadows for sure
In the countless ten thousand or much more
Can’t hear them speak but they are talking to me
Can’t speak the words out of my lips but they can hear me

Once again here I am

Breaking the sound of silence

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 As I pray
My cancer to keep away
But I went back to my old ways
And the sound of silence within the lamb still remained
Do you believe in life after love?

I am Unwritten but I Can Let You Read My Mind--My Sleep Paralysis

Cyclical Loop of a (0)

My sleep conscience - CONSCIOUSNESS has awoken me from the

depths of the darkness that held me down against my bed for many
years and each time that I experienced this amazing phenomenon, it
happened with an intensity increase. With all the lights off as the sun
sets, or no matter if the sun is rising, I would lay in bed waiting for the
moment my body would be taken over again by the paralysis that only
allowed me to move my eyes and hear what was surrounding me.
Shadows whispered in an attempt to break the silence that only I could
hear; shadows would bring to my attention a vision that only I could see
regardless if a significant other was in the room next to me. Truly a
paralysis, it left me unable to move or scream for help—but who would I
even scream for help from if no one could hear me? And could anyone
be able to understand where all of this was coming from and where it
was going? Where would I run to when apparently there was no one to
run from? No matter where I went or what I did, they would still follow
me. No prayer, no church, no temple could chase them away as if they
were locked inside me like a trophy I won for life.

This is my story.

I was born this way, just like you are. I can demonstrate to you how I was
able to break free from my conscience and sleep paralysis by breaking
my cyclical loop of the 0 I lived in. The same loop that I believe we all live
in. Just as doctors will consider me to have Attention deficit disorder
(ADD) and Dissociative identity disorder (DID), schizophrenia, I hope to
be able to give you a different explanation of what really might be
happening to you by connections between my life events and
connections with yours. My point of view will maybe differentiate from

72
your point of view, but I will try my best to give detailed descriptions in
associating the real events that occurred to me in a way that I hope will
help you reach your way through your paralysis, too.

My paralysis became more frequent when I was 17 years old. I

remember waking up in the middle of the night being unable to breathe
as I would see shadows move against the walls of my bedroom, on top at
the ceiling and all over me. The shadows became so frequent during the
night that I feared turning off the lights. It was as if I could already feel
them in my presence just waiting to catch my breath. When I shut off the
lights, it was as if there was a legion of the nightwalkers and crawlers all
around me. I was terrified of sleeping and would attempt to be up all
night for days. I would go to high school and immediately my friends
could notice the lack of sleep. Who could I trust with telling them my
terrifying and yet so amazing experiences? I couldn't hold off any longer
being up all night; my body automatically was shutting off as I lay in bed
trying to figure out ways to be up. I would feel my bed floating and
jumping all over the room. Yes, my bed would move and shake with me
on top of the bed. Hands of shadows only I could see would grab me by
my feet in attempt to pull me off the bed so that I would have to reach
onto the sides to hold on for dear life. Ain’t any freaking way I would fall
to the ground and be dragged under the bed just like the most terrifying
horror movie I have ever seen! Yet this was real life and I was living to
experience it on my own. I really thought I was not in my right mind and
at the very first chance, I would scream my mom for help. At times when I
was finally able to move, I would rapidly grab my covers and cover me
from head to toe, cry thinking someone was in my room trying to kill me.
Most of the times had no strength or willpower to scream for help. Other
times, the sound would not come out at all. But when I became
desperate with the constant torture, I would find strength to make a
sound and call for my mother. She would rush in my room, turn the lights
on and question me as to what was going on but all I could do was cry
and shake, shake, shake it off. I was in shock, without words to explain
my experience. She would sit by my bed for hours praying as her body
would start to shut down from being tired from her daily work routine as a
housekeeper. When I would calm down, she would ask if I was feeling
any better and could sleep with the lights off. Still all shaky, pale and with

73
barely any strength, I would make a sign with my head with widely
opened eyes to keep the lights on and never be shut off again.

There was a process for me to reach the other side of my paralysis and
for that I had to understand myself. I will provide some guidance sharing
my life in this writing as I feel it is the only way to fully be able to reach
the understanding of where it comes from. Even the deepest darkest
secret I kept most of my life, I will open throughout the chapters of my
life. Secrets that most people choose to keep inside for I believe that will
make it easier for you, dear reader, to understand in your life situations of
what you could do to help yourself. Please keep in mind that I could just
go straight to the point and tell you how I reached the cure for my sleep
paralysis but believe me, I have attempted to provide in-person
instruction to others who experienced the same phenomenon, sleep
paralysis and sleep consciousness, but realized that I was going over the
details and skipping essential information. Going too fast, they seemed to
not catch up to the message I was pushing through. Nobody told me it
would be easy; I was mostly on my own so I believe that you can hang
on a little bit longer and read all the pages of the Awakening of my
Sleeping Conscience.

You have probably read some people’s minds and got to know their
thoughts on your own. In the following chapters, you will start to find your
own way to release yourself from this phenomenon that I do love to call
an amazing experience. I also do understand how horrifying it can be.
Maybe it is because of the inability to control it. We are controlled in the
paralysis. This is the only way I found out. Even when I took sleeping
pills, I still would wake up paralyzed. Therefore, I believe that there are
no pills nor medicine nor vaccination that will carry anyone out of the
sleep paralysis. Now I don’t have to worry about the pitch darkness of the
night or to be alone in any room because I have reached parts of my
conscience that helped me break free from my paralysis. I believe that no
one else can find your unwritten pages. People might have an idea of
what you been through but only you know the absolute truth about
yourself. Only you can break your traditions and walk outside the
conditioned lines we have created in our minds by dictators and our
society.

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Shall we continue to write the unwritten pages and release your
inhibitions?

When I began to experience sleep paralysis, it happened in several

ways: before I fell asleep, waking in the middle of the night and in my
dreams. My nightmare came to life avenged sevenfold when I also
experienced visions of many shadows throughout the room, climbing up
the walls, crawling on the ceiling, floating in oval, round shapes across
the room, walking around, behind me, in between my legs, next or
behind me. I could see these shadows even in the darkness of my room.
I could see the dark in the dark. These shadows also mounted on top of
me, tightened my chest and neck, and whispered that they wanted to kill
me. In dreams, I would get paralyzed without being able to wake up. I
dreamt of falling face down in the mud, and the pressure on my physical
body would not allow me to get up in my nightmare or move out of that
position while astral projecting. I got to the point of almost fainting many
times. I would wake up gasping for air once released from the paralysis
to notice there was something still floating in the air.

Flashback: As a child, my parents had a ranch in the neighborhood

where we lived. In the ranch, my parents had built a grass soccer field.
They rented the field where my mother made her extra savings for the
future. I started selling frozen pops for the people who rented the soccer
field. One time while the players were playing soccer, I saw a wallet on
the bench and decided to pick it up to check if there was money inside. It
belonged to one of the players who had rented the field. I made sure the
players were entertained in the game and took what was inside and left
the wallet behind. I was used to taking money from my father when he
left the wallet around the house. The money I took was the exact amount
the boy had to pay his share for the couple of hours they had rented to
play. I was questioned if I had taken the money or seen who took it but
swore that I had not taken the money or seen anyone take it. Our
housekeeper spent a long time talking to them. I do not know if she was
accused of stealing the money or if they were just questioning her to see
if she had seen anything. She was poor and dark-skinned and I would
not be surprised if she would get blamed just for those reasons. She
worked over 12 hours a day sometimes. She always started working
early in the morning and got out at night to barely have any time with her

75
family. Immediately when I got the money, I felt badly--but I felt much
worse when they questioned me and I denied any knowledge of the theft.
I was very afraid of what I had done and the truth I did not have the
courage to say.

Fast-forward to the end of December 2016: I returned to work in the

lunch place I previously worked many months before. With my shift from
6pm-6am, it was 12 hours of standing overnight and breaks were not
often allowed. And my day time turned into my night time. So instead of
sleeping “normal” hours, I slept with the sun rising. It was a very
demanding job with long hours, standing for all those hours. On my days
off, all I wanted to do was to rest to recover. But I guess I had a price to
pay. I had lost the job I held as a branch manager in New York City
because I didn’t value what I had. Needless to say, I had many dues in
life to pay. Deep down I kept on complaining to myself of the injustices I
had to endure in the position I held while at the bank. Mostly, I was
enjoying playing dress up with the over 60 dress shirts, countless shoes,
belts, almost 100 ties, over 20 types of suits and sport jackets that I held
close to my heart. Many times, I would spend days with my feet on the
desk while taking naps. I believe my wrong from the past caused my
butterfly effect when I took my good life that I had planned and achieved
for granted thinking that I had it all while still wanting more. Therefore, I
got it, then lost it most of it--all to learn to appreciate and be grateful for
what I had and to treat others as I think to deserve. To go back to my
roots and re-learn what humble really feels like.

In January 2017, I started to have sleep paralysis again but this time it
was no longer at night-- it was during the day with sun shining bright in
the sky. I always had several episodes of sleep paralysis in the same
day, one after the next. From what I could count, the most I had was
seven episodes one consequential of the other. This was a different type
of sleep paralysis, however; my body was, each day, more exhausted
and after the long nights of work, I was not recovering physically.

I was already used to standing for extended periods of time while walking
around, picking up trays, taking orders and serving people. I had done
that before. But now started to sleep for 11 hours straight and I got to
sleep almost one full day on my day off. But even then, my energy

76
seemed to be sucked from my body. During the sleeping paralysis I had
while awake, I had the sensation of being strangled to the point of almost
fainting from lack of air. Seven times in a row, it felt like a death
sentence. It also seemed that I was receiving electric shocks from head
to toe. The fear would overtake me especially when seeing a shadow
between my legs and not being able to move. There was nothing I could
do, not even run out of the room. I thought to myself: How could this be?
The day was shining bright outside and the sun was coming through the
windows directly across where my bed is positioned. I usually kept the
curtains up to enjoy the sunlight as I sleep. Every day, I struggled. I
fought against the paralysis to breathe, to move.

I started to read a book while I was in Brazil about a “powerful” witch

diary and remembered the part that the witch didn’t have power when
someone did the cross sign on his/her body with the fingers. So, once I
was released from the paralysis, that’s what I did, I did the cross sign on
my forehead, lips and chest as I implored divine help to save me. I did
not know what to do anymore; I ran out of options. Even what I had
searched online, only worked for maybe a week and then it didn’t work at
all. No prayer could help me either, so what could I have done other than
meditate and keep a positive attitude? I was completely without strength.
When I was released from the paralysis I was so weak; too exhausted
even to lift an arm or roll over my stomach to put my face down covered
with the pillow or even reach for the covers to hide under. I surrendered
myself to this drastic weariness in which I found myself, and as the
paralysis overwhelmed me, I fainted out of exhaustion.

After many days sleeping 11 hours, I tried to get up as usual to get ready
for another night's shift. I woke up but immediately dozed off, making me
late for work. I had to force myself to keep my eyes open and get the
strength to get out of bed. It looked like I had exercised for 11 hours the
days before instead of sleeping. I slept sitting on the bed trying to get up.
I slept under the shower and took the steps of a child learning to walk for
the first time. I fell asleep several times before leaving extra late for work.
It was the longest working hours of my life where not even 10 energy
drinks that night kept me completely awake. I found myself sleeping
while standing and walking around work. Even while taking orders I took
a nap right in front of the customers! Some customers even asked, “Was

77
your night out that good?” chuckling as if I had spent a wild evening
painting the town red. Like vampires--or “blood suckers-- it seemed all
the energy surrounding me was sucking mine.

When I got home, I slept right away. This ritual continued for some days
of sleeping through almost half of the day and the other half to work while
drinking 8 to 10 or even more highly-caffeinated energy drinks during the
night to stay awake. Days I slept and nights I dragged myself to and at
work. I was becoming a zombie; walking around mostly falling asleep
struggling to survive this paralysis: no energy, no strength, and no desire
for anything other than to go through the night to be able to go back
home and sleep it off. While unaware if I was experiencing other
episodes of sleep paralysis, I experienced another paralysis during the
day even as the sun shone through the shades of my windows curtains.
This time I didn’t fight back, I had no energy to struggle as I “enjoyed” the
suffering for being unable to do absolutely nothing to liberate myself from
the shadows that surrounded my entire body only allowing me to see,
feel, and hear my surroundings. I was scared to death but what exactly
was I afraid of? It was winter cold and the windows were locked. I also
locked the door because sometimes I slept undressed. While I was
completely paralyzed, I began to pay attention to what was happening to
me. My fear started to decrease because I realized that no one else
could be in the room with me, no living soul that is, and I didn’t see
anything broken, unless they could transport themselves through walls. It
was then, when I began paying attention to the feelings that surrounded
me, which I started to feel someone else’s feelings combined with mine
as a Ghost Whisperer.

John 14:6
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one
comes to the Father except through me.
John 3:17
17 For God did not send his Son into the world to
condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

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 I find the word “through” very important.

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Cheers!

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