My wife told me it looks like my daughter, ex-wife, and daughter’s boyfriend are at Disney World in Orlando. This struck me
since Disney World was where I went with the mother of my child for our honeymoon.
I got my ex-wife pregnant on the honeymoon.
Some things, events are ironic and lived strike at you and make you wonder at what sort of humor God has if God exists.
We went to Clearwater first on our way to Disney World for our honeymoon.
On the wedding night she wore a horrible thrift story hellish preview nightgown.
I smashed my head in-between the car door and the car roof.
I have tape recordings.
There was a moment when sitting down in the airplane I looked over my shoulder and saw my mother-in-law, and father-in-law
sitting behind us and knew my life was headed for hell.
These people weren’t letting go. They had an agenda for me that had nothing to do with who I was.
Nice house, nice car, good little business with the family gas station good enough for the brother the son who was quiet.
Nobody even wanted to learn to cook.
She was blonde and knew how to look good.
Over years I discovered a selective memory and she wore me down with hatred. It is hard to talk to someone who is always
viciously voiced angry.
But I did it till my daughter was 17 thinking my daughter was old enough to talk to and deal with.
That didn’t work out and the spiral of low class live was maintained.
So I changed again into a fearful stoic living out of spite and afraid of jail and more court cases.
I wonder if she even knows how odd it is at that age to go to Disney World, where I made her pregnant on our honeymoon with her
daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend.
We went there when I was 31 and she was 30.
She must be 59 now.
My daughter is 27 and will be 28.
I was going to pool our home with the homes of my friends and we were going to form an equity company and buy an airport.
It was going to be somewhere in-between Cozumel and Cancon. Ideally it wasn’t much more to think about than put the
airport of Transcendia on a train track by a major road, on a sea port.
Morehead City in North Carolina is appealing to me, though it isn’t perfect.
I could stand to take over Wilmington, but that was done showing the rest of the racists what to do to US Grant.
That coup was something for the heroes to crow about with their names spread all over the state on government buildings.
The racist landowning class beat back again the blacks and their same position white wage slaves, what it was, what it is.
I got here because I was reminded of my first marriage.