Whatever I experience in my life. I can be sure someone else has gone through the same before me. When we have those dynamic and dramatic events happen to us, we quite often feel alone and disconnected. We believe, and somewhat rightly, that others cannot understand the deep personal affliction that is taking place, whether it be pain, loneliness, loss, rejection, persecution, sadness, anger, bitterness and the multitude of other feelings we can experience very strongly. We can sympathise to some degree if a similar event has happened in our own lives. Knowing the depth of something allows us to comfort others. Sometimes, we can forget ourselves just for a while and reach out to another driven by a deep human connection. As an extreme example, the person who sees another struggling in an ice-cold river, unselfishly jumps in without a second though to his personal life. What drives us to this kind of motivation, we lose ourselves just for a while to save the life of another at the risk of losing our own? I am not going to attempt to answer such a question. However, even if others have gone through the same as you, we live in such a disjointed and isolated world. We have become too dependent on ourselves; we can feel lacking in emotional support and hold a fervent scepticism that there is not any help.
There are a lot of, “what is it really like out there?” What is it really like to die from cancer? What is it really like to lose a son or daughter? What is really like to fall in love? What is really like to know you have aids? What is it really like to find out your marriage partner has been unfaithful? What is really like to be burgled? What is really like to be homeless? What is it really like to lose an arm or a leg? The list is endless. From one or maybe more of the above, you can piece together an understanding “I know what that is like, I can grasp the depth of human response in that, it happened to me, so I know.”
However, the answer you will have produced will most likely be one relating to an internal emotion or feeling, which can materialise as something external and physical. Crying, violence, laughter and many other human reactions can be seen through the physical. However, is that all that there is? I would like to submit that it is not. There is the stuff of the not so obvious, wrapped in obscurity, and that is what I am writing about, the obscurity reaction to life changing events.
I have one particular dangerous and dynamic event impacting upon my life. Even though I am not alone in that, it will not be one that the masses are likely to experience. So what is really like to have your home stolen from you by property investment fraud? One minute you are a homeowner with no mortgage, the next minute it has been stripped from your wealth. You are been left homeless, and there is no legal help from the system because it is all so corrupt. So, what is really like to lose your home to a wealthy greedy businessman who lives a affluent lifestyle of luxury, not only for himself but for his whole family? A man with 70 million or more who simple stole my several hundred thousand through making me trust his company. What is it like to know that two sales representatives are still free? Neither has been made accountable for their actions that nearly destroyed my life. What is like to see a large law firm, which was instrumental in the act of crime, to see their corporate smiling faces on a web site banner? Behind the corporate polish lies a thief, a crook, which has premeditated that it is going to steal from you. Not just a little, but your soul, but suck the lifeblood out of you until the very last breath.
I have had to live with the memory of those events for the last six years. Working through lawyers who have all turned out to be corrupt in one form or another. It does not get better, it only seems to get worse. Yes, there are all the obvious emotions, the stress, the anguish, the anger, the frustration. Each time one is stimulate, it takes its toll for weeks and months later. The disappointment that the system is simple useless, inflicts its own type of stab into the wellbeing of the individual. The shocking discovery that there are no lawful bodies adequate, or has the power to act, produces a lack of faith and disgust to a state system. One of the main problems is the cross content legal process. Suing someone in Spain from the UK requires more cash than one has lost. Then there is the question of where is this case suable, which country when you advertise in one, then have your operations in another.
So, what do those obscure reactions look like that I have touched upon. Varied in their appearance, some silly, some funny, some disturbing, and some that deify the imagination.
Well, how about the packed rucksack that has a tent and sleeping bag permanently packed waiting until the day I no longer have the cash to pay the rent, or buy any food. My two cats and I are thrown out onto the streets. Is this what it is really like?
Then there are those two cats, now two and half years old, a constant worry. What will happen to them once I cannot take care of them any longer? I have been putting out feelers trying to find them a new home for some time now, without any luck so far. They are very timid, I have cared for them from birth. Turning them out onto the streets or into the wild is just plain cruel. Is it just as cruel that I have no home because of these criminals? Do you feel some compassion for these animals, yet none for me? Is this what it is really like?
I find myself constantly readjustment my remaining wealth attempting to stretch it out. If I can get it to last just that little bit longer than it really should, providing more time and hoping that something just might happen to help resolve my dilemma. That is only postponing the arrival of that feared and dreaded day. It is not a solution. Is this what it is really like?
As the money runs out, the two large rocks stashed outside my door may come into use for their intended purpose. Waiting for the last cent or penny to drain from my pockets, they wait to be tied to my feet and end up at the bottom of the ocean, only meters from my front door. Not such a ridicule’s idea, when you add it to the last month of life on a cruise ship, just before I submitted to defeat. Live up the last few moments of life as despair wins the day. Going out in style, throwing oneself overboard, glass of champion in hand, I hate champion. Those heavy weights attached to make sure nothing goes wrong. Sinking down into the depths, what would be my last memory of this world as I try in earnest to take the last gulp from that glass? Instead my mouth and lungs fill with salty seawater, the last gasp for a breath of air, the body shudders from its starved life source. The arm and body goes limp, the hand releases the champion glass, it is now free to travel the depths only a slave to the ocean current. The lights go out, and it is all over in few short seconds. How long does it take to drown? Is this what it is really like?
Here is one very few would associate with an obscure reaction. Praying for those that have inflicted the damage upon me. Praying for those who have thrown themselves into a life of decadent and financial debaucher, and then inflicted its execution upon me. Their destiny is a very hot and thirsty eternal hell. In one sense, I want to be there and cheer them on from a ringside seat. As I watch them all being cast into a lake of fire I blow my whistle, wave my football rattle with an energetic and enthusiasm that would scare the devil himself. I have already made an application for that prime seating position. I wait for my ticket with eager and glee. In another sense, not wishing any to go to such an eternal place, pray that they will come to their senses and repent of their foul deeds. I hope daily that a small glimmer of light will creep into their corrupt minds, turn and avoid that dreadful destiny that awaits them, do the descent thing and apologise and give me back my money. Even though it is unlikely to every happen unless forced, one can hope. Is that too much to ask? Is this what it is really like?
I do wonder if this next one reveals something dark within me. I have created a brief for a fictional thriller novel around the events that have taken place. The whole cast, the promoter, lawyers, salespersons and finical advertisers, their families and the victim himself, after a bizarre series of incidence, all end deceased. Hatred overwhelms the victim; he sets out on a course of revenge. It proves fatal to all that have crossed his path, and finally for himself. Is this what it is really like?
The repulsiveness of work, to work for another for a wage. I can no longer, or want to tolerate the thought or the act of working within the system and paying taxes into something I now despise and loath. I hate greedy useless politicians who to me are all corrupt, there is not a good one anywhere in the world. Even if there is, to me, there are none. I am not alone in this thought; I now find great pleasure in an alternative Guy Fawkes who succeeded. Is this what it is really like?
One option I keep considering and could be explored, is to swallow one’s pride and beg. As the money runs out, ask for charity, the victim lives on a merger 8,000 euros a year, how hard can that be to raise such a small amount? Is this what it is really like?
Hope beyond hope! Would it not be amazing if a lawyer heard my story and actually fought the injustice only wanting reward if he won? Someone with compassion, and an overwhelming desire to see justice wrapped around the heart, drove this individual to selflessly act. A knight in shining armour, do such people only exist in fairy tales and story books? Is this what it is really like?
Then there are the irregular flash backs accompanied by a deep sense of guilt, the heavy realisation that I became careless and allowed others to steel my wealth. It ushers in a period of inactivity, fixed in deep remorse and fixed into whatever seat I happen to be alighted upon. It is only a short period but nonetheless a suffering I could do without. Is this what it is really like?
Then there are the dreams of homelessness, I see myself wandering around knocking on doors crying out for help, no one is prepared to lend a hand of compassion. Over the last few years, those types of dreams have become more common. One that is more repetitive is having a home and then being asked to leave, simply because I am not wanted. Is this what it is really like?
So after all those submissions, What is it really like? Have I touched on anything? I have managed to survive all the bombardment of that life’s experience so far. I eventually did write a book. However, one were everyone stays alive as it is only an account of the fact interwoven within my story. So what do you do with those that are living, I chose to name and shame, will it have any impact, will it get me my money back, I do not know, one can at most hope. This is what it is really like.
BURNING DOWN THE BRICKS – this is my story –how I lost my home through international property fraud.
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