We all chose difference ways and means of dealing with hurt. Hurt creates pain, no doubt. An egotistic man may react differently to pain from a man who is otherwise humble. It is interested to note here that money never buy happiness. To think otherwise, is to be suckered in a myth that is so harmful. It is this myth and abnormal thinking that many a drug-dealers, would find themselves. Money buys freedom and comfort in some things. Therefore, when a person, such as a man, is hurting and he has money he may choose to do things that he would under normal circumstances, not do. Here is an example. Actually two just so that a clearer picture can be drawn from this situation.

I have no baby pictures of my self. My sister Doreen and my brother Honey had none either. We are the only three of my mother and fathers children that have no baby pictures of ourselves. You know, the tender years of infancy, where the preciousness of life embraces!

My mother having thorn up 'all' our baby pictures that were ever taken, and there were many. Thus, up until age 8, my father had no pictures of what I looked like. Even after I can recall, repeatedly, as my grandparents would dress up, my sister Doreen, and my brother Honey to go and have pictures taken to be sent to our parents in England. Upon arrival, seeing my mother was home all the time, she would malicious destroy the pictures. I can still recall the pictures as I have seen them, prior to my grandparents mailing them off. Even while my father continued to write back asking where are the pictures of his children. Tell me, this woman called my mother, didn't already have the root of evil embedded in her.

My sister who follows my birth, my sister Paulette is the illegitimate child the child my mother conceived for another man and not my father, even while she was suppose to have been a faithful wife. Therefore, upon my mother's arrival in England in 1962, she was already with child, my sister Paulette, been borne May 1962. Leaving me when I was ten months old, played a steep role in what was what. Aha!

How did I mange to trace my mother's footsteps in this matter? How did I manage to seek to find out what and where her insane hate for me comes from? It was from that second beating, beating me half to death that night, that I knew that, somewhere along the line an insane rage lies hidden. Why should I have to pay for my mother's shame? Why should I have to suffer for my mother's wanton behavior? Was I borne to become the scapegoat of the family? I think not! I refuse to be it, and so from an early age, I learned to fight back. I learn to not allow her or anyone to take advantage of me. I learn to speak out, and let my voice be heard. I was a beautiful child that deserves all that life has to offer.

A man tends to react differently to hurt feelings. A man with an already 'troubled childhood of suffering from abandonment' tends to not accept what they see in their eyes of true reality. Instead, such a man sees his hurt as that of rejection. Therefore, in my case, my conversation with this man had centered on his feeling of 'rejection.' For, and on, many occasions, I not only had to listen to his feeling of anger and 'his insecurity' and of how he perceived woman, as they should perceived him. I was forever mindful of his words even to me. Therefore, when he complains about his father, the pain from remembering a father that was not there for him, and throughout his life, up until the point when he started to make money, is what I had to listen to. Do I have an answer for him? No, I don't.

His childhood remembrances of his father, someone he wanted to idolize haunted his spirit, his soul, and his reality, reality as he sees it, in his injured eyes. The early pain and abuse of listening to his father calling his mother crazy and stupid and walking off leaving her, even without any food in the house for them to eat. In that the only reason for his father to have visited on those distant night was to have sex with his mother, turn around and laugh with his usual damaging scorn. Like his father, he would become the same, treating the women he would seek out, the very same way.

I having traced similar pattern of behavior in my mother, who happen to be second cousin to this man, Ricky's father, the man named Jimmy Jackson. What a pair, is all I can say. Thus, it is not unusual, for me to find that my mother is a sick bitch, as is her cousin, Jimmy. Above and beyond that as he went to seek my mother audience, in complaining about me (that ungrateful bastard), that she would see the need to support him in his trifling argument that what I utter and spoke about him was the truth and nothing but the truth. Since I had no close blood ties with Ricky, I do not find it anything to be ashamed of, although I was unaware until late 1990 that my grandfather was cousin to his grandmother.

Therein lies no incest, as some busybody tried to post on a few message board, when I was new and the Americanism in some had seek to destroy my character, in a heat of jealousy about competition for sponsorship. Going for the kill was a lowdown dirty deal. Thus, when Jimmy sent the word out that he would have my son kidnapped, he was not only out of line, but also, way off based. His little Jimmy is a little replica of him, short black and stocky, and a by-product of his shame. Like my mother, the man has no shame. Like his wife, Gail, who is busy sucking up the after product of the ganja- drug trade, the three of-a-kind, would set out to attack me.

However, what he, Cousin Jimmy did, was open the door for my worthless mother to start throwing out words about me, so much so that she did it in the presence of my son, who now dislikes her and wanted nothing to do with her. I cannot get my son to change his mind about a grandmother who is supposed to love him. Now, don't blame this on me, either.

In life, it is what we as individual agreed to be satisfied with, that is, that which would determine what we become. Do you want me to break this down for you? I hope not. If in your walks of life you agree to want to believe that you are second best, then that is what you will become, or what will become of your life. I don't care who loves me, and for a fleeting moment assume that they had the key to my happiness. Unless, I am on that plateau, and hold "an innateness in myself" that, that is the person, that will aid in holding my undivided attention, I will not budge.

Let me point out, least I am misunderstood, can no one make 'you' happy. You are the creator of your own happiness, and therefore, people or persons who are of the opinion that someone else can make them happy, is living a false and `empty life' and will continue to do so, to the point of wanting to commit suicide.

There are prospective (clients) that on many occasions, tells me that they are and were of the opinion that I was in a business to making money. This is after; I had refused to sell them a vacation trip to Jamaica. Why? Vacation "getaways" is just that. For them to want to spend money to take a "getaway" only to get there, and still insist on making their own beds, telling the maid what to do, what not to do within the guidelines of 'making them comfortable' did, not only me an injustice to service, but also the maid whose life they had maliciously seek-out to make miserable. Get me? Some wanted to go on that vacation for the sole purpose of buying drugs, as in their head; they do not grasp that marijuana is illegal in Jamaica. I made the point here, as on one occasion, I was threatened by 'someone' that they have the rights to call authorities, such as the Jamaica Tourist Board on me. Well, the facts are that as a Citizen of Jamaica, I have all rights in protecting my country.

Not only is their behavior and logic flawed, but also looking at my physiological well being, upon their return from that getaway called vacation, and placing that 'I'm home" call to my agency. I hate torment, as I am making no plans to be in hell. That is why I made the reference to Paradise on my "The Soul" page regarding living and who we are. [Because], I having find unsurpassed peace in Negril, in Jamaica, after having travelled most of the world and living in other places that are just as beautiful as Negril, Jamaica, yet the magical atmosphere, that Negril saturated the soul with, is my reasons for making the reference.