Adios Chisme.
A few weeks ago I sent a message to my aunt, intended for her only.
She decided to send the recording to my father, who went ahead without my consent and shared it with my brother, who went ahead without my consent and shared it with his wife, and who knows how many others it’s been shared with since. I don’t care to know. For it has nothing to do with me. I wasn’t the one forwarding the message to paint myself as the victim. I have God. Nothing’s missing from my life so much that I need to seek assurances from a mob of narcissists. I have my ex-wife to thank for that lesson. (Chisme)
Apparently this earlier dissemination wasn’t sufficient enough however, as my father went on to share the message intended for my aunt with my mother, and her sister, and her sister’s husband, and who knows how many others following that. It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it has nothing to do with me the moment someone else pushes the send button. My father did. I didn’t push play as if this private message forwarded over to him was meant for him to do with it as he pleased without consent, which is defamation, in every sense of the word. Beyond that, it shatters families. Worst off, this happens all the time in the western world, as it’s seen as normal. It’s gotten to the point where if my parents approach me, I record the conversation for posterity, and I make it known that I’m recording. To protect everyone.
Gossip is not normal. It’s sickness.
This message contained a snapshot of me in a moment of profound disappointment and sadness, thinking about my children, feeling how no one from my extended family had made attempts to communicate with my biological children in over five years. I was in need of friend. A sounding board. I figured my godmother would be able to comfort me, and at the very least, keep this between us. I figured I could trust her enough, considering we share the rare experience of having both lost a child.
I concluded the message by saying something to the effect that I have accomplished all I need in this life, and how I have written enough books to leave with my children (it’s true, I’ve accumulated over 100 novels), and at no point in the message did I mention wishing to end my life. My body belongs to God. All I am belongs to Him. God is both the Giver and the Gift. I Love Him. God gives my body form, breath, and motion so as not to snuff it out because of a moment of weakness. I’m not a Fool.
That said, before I surrendered all I am to God, I considered suicide a good number of times. Similar to Eckhart Tolle, before he was spiritually awakened. Once it happens, it’s an immediate transformation. Like a chrysalis. You don’t even recognize your old self. And you never look back. Even Carl Jung, the father of Modern Psychology said that the only individuals to overcome mental illness were those who experienced spiritual awakening.
It’s the only way.
That said, I can see how suicide was interpreted by my aunt based on her limited knowledge of who I am now. However, she erroneously involved my father, who never should have received the audio. My father still hasn’t apologized for sharing it with the Known Universe. So I’m done with him. He’s not so much gone in mind to get away with this mistake, because he made it repeatedly, after I told him this was betrayal, and assured him of my health. Still he kept sharing it with anyone who he felt would side with him against his son.
All this explains quite clearly how I am done. Fed up. Tired of asking family for help. Exhausted, only to find this return to me, in the form of betrayal. I understand what this is now: It’s my past. Nothing but illusion.
My past hates the new me. Sees me as conceited, overconfident, ignorant, misogynistic; a man with a God complex. My past wants to see me fail at all costs, and it knows it cannot stop me from achieving greatness, so it’s tantrumming and rallying troops. If my past self could only see how nothing is left of me but the breath, my family would see the truth in my words. For all they know of me is my deep past. The man I used to be. The broken man. The lost man. The dying man in Mexico. The depressed one in America. The hopeless one all around. The homeless one. The cycling one. The one with endless problems. The one who abandoned his wife and children. The one who is sick and disabled.
My voice message apparently was enough for everyone to assume to know exactly how I feel, and erroneously define me, without question, painting me in the light of negativity and indifference. For nothing is more enticing to a narcissist than a distraction to keep from having to confront one’s own issues, which stem mostly from interfering with the lives of others. The truth of a narcissists’ life comes forth with every doctor’s visit. Sickness abound. Free radicals, running rampant. Because every thought entertained is a bad one. Always assuming the worst in others. Always complaining. Never offering forgiveness to self or others. Never offering solutions. Extending grudges for years or longer. Holding you forever accountable for the smallest mistakes. Never letting you forget it. Pinning family against you for the satisfaction of feeling a little excitement before returning to an otherwise painful death.
My father shared his opinion about this recording with me, unsolicited, and I assured him this did not mean suicide, sickness, mental illness, or anything of the sort. But that I was mainly mourning the loss of my firstborn child, as her anniversary is this time of year, on May 4th, and how this was a private message to my godmother, and it had nothing to do with him. I explained how the loss of a child is unnatural, something I pray he never comes to understand.
Still, my father didn’t believe me, and assuming the worst, without compassion or letting it go, he went ahead and shared this message to my extended family, without my consent. He still feels justified in doing so, after we supposedly hashed this out, and hugged each other in the woods, in private, with what I understood was forgiveness with full understanding. It was all feigned. I see that now. So I want nothing to do with my father. The risk outweighs the reward in trying to rectify this. So it’s a breakup.
There is a proper word for my family’s behavior—it’s called trespassing. And as we forgive those who trespass against us, on this day (as I have dished out chisme in defense of my truth—i.e. everyone has a breaking point) I ask the Lord to lead us not into temptation to trespass again—but deliver us from evil. To deliver us from continuing to make unsolicited, wrong, frightfully ignorant assumptions of those we claim to Love unconditionally.
What I have learned from this experience is that it is better for me to take a vow of silence with my family, in support of Love, for the practice of nonviolence as a holy man, and for the preservation of my children—and myself—out of respect for us. I’m tired of hearing indirectly from people that my brother plans on calling the police if I ever stop by his house again. This same obese, alcoholic, mentally ill brother drives over here anytime he likes, without considering his own words and actions. It’s this type of hypocrisy I wish to avoid like the plague. He does nothing to improve himself or his health, drinking multiple bottles of wine daily, smoking cigars, preferring to bury himself in email instead of spending quality time with his son (who has special needs) while spreading fear and rumors about me, as if it were invited, true, or necessary. So you can see how I wish to remove him from my life, all together, including anyone that sides with him.
For word travels. As does sickness. I have been told through the grapevine about how scared and fearful my family is of me. From afar. Even though no one can honestly say I’ve aggressed toward them. Mind you, my brother has assaulted me several times in life, broken down doors, thrown me around, uppercut my face, caused me to bleed. He’s also tossed out priceless possessions of mine, like my journals from the 90s, and my passport—I’m reminded of this every time I pass through customs. I get questioned almost every time. All this I’ve mentioned is the tip of the iceberg between my brother and me.
This same brother shares my personal, private messages, for everyone to rally against me. This is why I’m breaking up with him. Publicly. It’s justified.
That said, everyone should know I have nothing to lose. Put me in jail, I’ll hunger strike. Anyone foolish enough to seek my misery will make me a martyr in a month’s time behind bars, and then you’ll have my death on your hands. If this is what you want, do it. I know the world has its watchdogs and lawyers who will back idiots no matter how erroneous they are in their actions if the price is right. I have God. He is my redeemer. I love my life more than to bend the knee to morons with deep pockets.
You fail to see I am your mirror.
Be my Ramses, world. Give me reason to part the Red Sea. Give God a reason to take matters into His hands in preservation of the good. I’ve already surrendered to this Source. What you throw my way is nothing more than an uninterrupted boomerang that comes back around, eventually.
Sick family members justifying their actions together cannot hide the fact that neither apology nor forgiveness is ever offered. No questions asked. It’s just full-blown narcissism on display everywhere, covered up by a mob-like mentality. Co-dependency to the extreme. Keep it. It’s sickness. It takes your friendships away. Leaving you with no one but the folks who share the sickness to carry you through the gauntlet to the end. Only to find out that none of this mattered. For it was Love that was needed, all along. In the form of forgiveness. That’s the key to the Game of Life. Forgiveness is nothing more than Love in the form of perfect health, and freedom.
(Look, I know I’m dramatic sometimes. In fact, a lot of the time. I’m a writer. It comes with the territory. Anywho…)
Just know that this decision to trespass against me, through gossip, fabrication of stories, and withholding of secrets, and belittlement, has proven time and again—to be the most caustic, destructive force that has befallen my family. It corrodes and destroys it from within. It leads to cancer, and terminal illness. And still, this negative behavior continues. So I remove myself from it, entirely. I wish to remain alive. I wish to be healthy. I wish to be supported by real human beings who care, not just people who offer wine dinners just to load their weapons with new reasons to talk shit about the weak.
I have learned the hard way, that those who are chosen as targets are those who appear alone or are far enough away to never be privy to the truth of what’s being said about them in the light of ignorance.
Saw this happen with my older cousin, and my cousins on the West Coast years ago. If you’re not around to speak up for yourself, you get thrown under the bus. You become an easy target for the mob. Find success, and suddenly everyone loves you and flocks to you. Because people have that little love for themselves, so as to betray their own blood. For vanity. To save face. For a cheap laugh at the expense of those who need Love most of all. To be seen as right in dishing hate, while those who surround them are sick enough to entertain it. Everyone in this mob maintains a false identity. Trust me, you may think you’re getting away with it, but the world knows who you are.
My life is on display for all to see. I have nothing to hide. My truth is all here.
That said, blood runs sick through my family. Proven in the form of illness, terminal cancer, and irreversible disease of the mind; ignorant apathy, and still, my family insists on trespassing for the sake of maintaining an image in the public eye that shows them as better than others. There is no forgiveness coming from them. There is no contemplation of actions taken. There is only condemnation. This is digital crucifixion. And I’m done with it. Done with my family. On all sides.
This is a formal break up with my family. For what do I have to lose now that I have found God within? All I ever want and need is already provided by Him.
I leave my family with the Lord’s Prayer—as His words speak of trespassing. How it’s theft of peace. Dishing out evil while playing the victim. Sickness.
All is to say…breakups happen. People grow. Some don’t. Some stay exactly where they are, in a comfort zone of fear, which is nothing more than willful ignorance: False Evidence Appearing Real.
Fear is my past. My past is sick. Have at it, family. Just know, there is no truth to be found in it other than discovering it’s illusion. As I say—I’m done with it. All I could ever hope to offer has been received in the light of indifference, misinterpretation, betrayal, and apathy. There was no forgiveness offered. Only trespassing. No sense in forcing the correction of this issue. Have to let it go. What is done is done. I offer Love. And I receive freedom in return.
I do this out of respect for my children, who carry the torch of human consciousness. I do this out of respect for the children growing up in this toxic family who need a better example than this sickness on tap with sick people justifying it. Calling themselves victims of the external world.
Goodbye “family”. Hello life. Peace awaits me in the land of forgiveness.
These betrayals, these unnecessary continuations of the same isolated moments, when someone going through pain remembrance was in need of Love, only to find themselves being laughed at, mocked, shown for one’s apparent weakness, while denying all their beauty within—is what I wish to remove from my life forever.
For all I put on display on Immortal Type is in the light of Love, my newsletter is a reflection of my truth—and what’s evident here is not a single positive comment has ever been offered by those who have betrayed me, not a single offering of Love, never supporting the good that comes from my hands, my mind, my body, which is all God, mind you—just like you—if you would only see the truth of our existence. That we are all One Spirit. Yet it has been made clear that all this gossip shall remain active without moving on, letting go, offering forgiveness. So keep all of it. Remain in your comfort zone, condemning others. This has nothing to do with me anymore. Sickness, is all this is.
My future exists in the now.
I choose life. I choose abundance. I choose Love.
I choose to forgive and forget these ghosts of the past. I let them dissipate.
I choose the side of the living.
Let the weak man say—I am Strong.
With Love,
William
Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done on earth,
as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil:
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
forever. Amen.
I take a vow of silence with my family. In the light of Love, and nonviolence. I do this out of respect for myself, and my children. For all has been said now. Forgive me Lord on this day. I did this for posterity. It is for my family to keep and continue to interpret in the light of error. For as long as they can stomach it before it turns into cancer of the blood. Tailored to order.
Adios Chisme.