There are a lot of things that I’ve purposely left out of Tango over the years.  Some of it is close to being too personal to write about but it has ‘shock factor’ that draws an audience and might be great for hits, yet I’m really not positive that I want to give up that kind of information about the underbelly of what goes on in my life and yet I do write about a large portion of my life here.  I’ve considered carrying two diaries – one that is here, the above the table kind of things that are easily written and portray a level above the human carnage – the other kept privately that exposes everything that I’m privy too, feel, experience, and tends to pave a direction to a better understanding of…

perhaps life’s progression for myself?  the end of the road death bed? dealing with life and the misery we bring upon ourselves?  just a general information library filled with trivial facts and gigantisod events that impact my life in way or another?

The list could go on forever.

In the reality of it all, most people are fascinated by the bizarre and extreme, sick and hideous, fairy tale endings, sadness and loss, and pain and agony.  And even though all of these things happen in their lives too, some do not view it as important or earth shattering while others take it to heart.  A lot of people live vicariously through another’s life, relating some of it to their own, others refusing to even acknowledge that any of it has happened to them.

As I toss out all of this useless information, I ponder writing about the circumstances that have affected my life in the last two and a half years that have to do with grandchildren, my child and his female companions and those that are the mothers of his children, and the distorted mess that seems to drag on forever as they all feed their own sickness rather than stepping back and realizing how much happier and better off they would be if they completely separated their lives and stopped using their children as an excuse to feed the agony of spending hated time around each other.  To a few of them, it isn’t viewed as hated time, it’s viewed as “you’re going to wake up and realize you want me at some point and I’m going to make sure I’m in your face until you do.”

I don’t even want to know about it but they make sure that I do, in the form of phone calls, text messages, and general tattle tale conversation as they rat my son out to me thinking I’m supposed to send him to his room without food or water for a day until he realizes the folly of his ways.  In a sick way, I question if they want me to send him to their room and force him to stay there.

I found out a long time ago, in a few relationships of my own, that you can never force a person to do something or change the path they’ve chosen – if they don’t want anything to change, it won’t, and the more you try to talk to them about it or force the issue, the worse the situation becomes.  Never give an ultimatum unless you are willing to follow through with it.

But…these females can’t seem to get the hang of self respect and putting themselves ahead of the turmoil and idiocy a few years from now so they wallow, content to take a crumb or two and make their demands that are worthless tokens of flesh and momentary satisfaction.  They have no respect for themselves so how can anyone else respect them?

My son?  There is no side to be taken there.  He feeds all of his sicknesses also, to the max, 24/7, without regard for his future or anyone else’s.

The grouping of life’s mainstream collision of bodies and mentalities that have no reasoning ability or clear view of what lies ahead has pulled this bunch together like bees to honey.  They feed.  They are unsatisfied and wait for the next opportunity.

I feel sick at times just seeing the overall picture.  I have contemplated filing for custody of Riot and even contacted an attorney.  That is on hold for now.  One reason is that I’ve paid my dues raising children and I really do not want to raise another one…do not mistake the basic fact that if need be, I will.  There are other reasons.

There’s another side to this sick picture.  Katie…she will soon have a new sibling…that will be my grandchild also as far as I know.  But circumstances lead me to believe that I don’t trust or believe anyone in this picture anymore.  The child is being held out as my grandchild.  The mother is as sick as any human I have ever met in my life and holds out to ‘love’ for the reason.  I could write a book on conversations with her and her actions and how she approaches issues.  Love was not the reason for this unborn child, the reason is that throughout her life she knew she had to have four children to be happy.  Not three, not five, but four, and she can’t provide for them as it is but she has to have an even number of children.  At one point I asked her if she had twins, if she would have to have another one so she had six – back to the even number thing.  She professes to love my son but is that really love?

Katie and the unborn should be about 5 days apart on birthdays.  Mother said she thought she’d ask for a ‘c’ section so they could both be born on the same day and that way she wouldn’t have to remember four separate birthdays and they could celebrate on the same day.

I said, “You are fucking insane!”  Needless to say, our conversation that day didn’t last long.

Her oldest son lives with his father – he’s 12 now.  Her oldest daughter is 4, almost five, and has spent most of her time with her father – which they have a semi-custody battle going on over and the mother left the girl with her father for most of last year and then filed for child support for the girl, hence the father went to court to file for custody. And they both claimed her on their income tax – that didn’t go over well.

Our tax $ will pay for the birth of this child because the mother has no money, she applied for a student loan and started going to school to become a teacher…I question her teaching a child anything, especially morals, integrity, and self respect, along with schooling.  I doubt that she will ever complete the schooling and the reason I believe she filed for the loan is that she wanted the money to survive on while she birthed another child to satisfy her own strange needs.   And why would I believe that, she’s mentioned more than once, ‘the money is good.”

I can’t stand any of it and yet it’s in my face on an almost daily basis.  And this isn’t even the first cloud of mist rolling off the iceberg, there’s so much more that it’s mind boggling to even begin to contemplate.

Perhaps, I’ll write it here…perhaps not.