Blogging the Book
Why is it that since the beginning of time people have always gravitated to bad instead of good. It goes all the way back to when the World was in its first Days, Adam and Eve, Cain and Able they set a trend that never will be broken. I would be a liar if I told you that I was not intrigued for a long period in my Life to go left, by seventeen I had seen enough of what the world can do, so I thought. I took a right turn and stayed the Course the rest of my Life. Why is it that so many People aren’t able to use their God given ability to exercise reason, make the right choices and do what’s right. I am no Genius but I posses the ability to use Logic and weigh things, to use rationality as we all do but don’t, and so from my Teenage life I have exercised Rationality, which have kept me from committing Murder and staying out of Prison. In Venezuela there are Notorious Murderers only twelve years old. In the U.S. during the height of the Drug Wars twelve and thirteen years old were used as Hitmen.
The gift of using rationality started at fourteen when two Brothers who were friends of mine, both molested by their older Brother a Teacher invited me to Dinner, upon arrival I entered the House and headed straight to the Dining Room, the table was set, curiosly there were only the Boys and their Brother seated at the Table, no sign of any Parents. I was directed where to sit in the Lamb’s chair to the right of Teachie as the older Brother was called. Small talk developed into sex talks, I was now uncomfortable, not seeing any food on the table and not enjoying the conversation I stood up to leave. With one fell swoon Teachie pounced on me, next thing I know he had a hand full of my Genitals, the more I resisted the tighter the grip became just about in tears. By now the Dinner invitation was all clear, I was the main course to become the stuffed Pig and be Porked. Teachie’s grip of my Genitals were like a pair of Pliers, the two Brothers sat at the Table cowering visibly the sign of molested children, they did nothing or said nothing in my defense. Teachie was in for a crude awakening not knowing that I was a fierce street fighter that was capable of killing at fourteen. Just Days earlier I had beaten a Neighborhood Bully into a Pulp with a large Stick and could have killed him if I had chosen to, then found out that his two older Brothers were Gunmen who had killed before.
Teachie was having fun taunting me he thought he had me, I went into a Shaolin meditation closed my eyes while looking through my mind’s eye as I pinpointed his face. With a Fist closed tightly and three knuckles purtuding, I nailed him in his right eye with everything I had, knowing that I had only one shot and if I blew it my Ass would be his. His eye immediately filled up with Blood, he released his grip and covered his eye. Readying myself for a counter move on his part I picked up the large Steak knife from my place setting at the Table. He was in such pain he didn’t make a move forward or he would have been dead, I was filled with rage.
The little Minion that was imprisoned in me jumped out stood on my shoulder and told me to Kill all three of them for putting me through such an ordeal. It’s a shame the way some people would ruin other people’s lives just to satisfy their uncontrollable lust. He had ruined his own Brothers lives and thought he could rape every Boy in the Neighborhood. All of this happened across the street from a Police Precinct, the Cops would have heard the screaming, I put down the Knife and walked out, passed the Precinct did not go in and make a report. Those were the good old days when the Victim bore the shame and guilt even if a Priest was the Molester. As far as I’m concerned Molesters are nothing but Dogs in Heat. It was that early in Life that I progressed into the World of Rationality and stayed there for the rest of my Life. If I had Killed Teachie and his Brothers I would not be here today to tell you about all the ill fated people I have known that didn’t use Rationality and so paid the price.
Growing up in the Bronx in the same Neighborhood where The Bronx Tale manifested was a great challenge of my rationality. At fourteen I had access to more Marijuana than a Farmer, I was steadily prodded to sell it, I used rationality knowing that a Prison Cell awaited me. Living on Nelson Ave the biggest Dealer in the Neighborhood who owned every Building on my Block made several offers for me to sell his Weed and Cocaine all up front no out of pocket Cash from me, exercising rationality I turned down each offer. My Cousin who was raised to sell his Soul for money took the offers that I had refused. His Mother was all about money, her belief was embedded in him. Over the years he became wealthy running Drugs from Florida to New York, caught five Bullets and spent fifteen years in Prison along the way. Those were my Bullets and my fifteen years, all because I exercised rationality and he didn’t. Listing the pros and cons is something the average person neglect to do when making decisions that affects them the rest of their lives. Backtracking to the Bully that I mannered up, this Kid was fifteen I was fourteen, he heard of my reputation as a good fighter, just like Frank and Jessie James word gets around. Once your reputation precedes you there is no peace. Butter as he was called is used to beating people with his Head, Elbows and knees. He was built like Hulk and had bad Role Models, his two older Brothers were Notorious Gunmen both had Killed many people, to the best of my knowledge they didn’t belong to any Gangs.
They were modern Day Frank and Jessie, they rolled up on Gangs and put people in Graves. One weekend I heard about a wicked Backyard Boogie that even though I was only fourteen I had intended to Gate Crash( show up without an invitation) my Nickname was Big Boy. This was a grown up party more so most of the partygoers were Gang Members killers in their own rights. Butter’s two Brothers had the same idea as I did, the bad thing was that we lived on the same Street, if Fate had it and we happened to be there at the same time my fate would have been theirs. If you read some of my Blogs you know that I give credit to God for my survival to live long enough to write this. Divine intervention would have it that I didn’t show up at this Party, Butter’s two older Brothers Jumped the fence Guns drawn announced that they were crashing the Party. Seems that everyone there was packing a Gun, those two fools were Executed like War Criminals, I was not privy to the Police Report, word is they both caught sixteen Bullets each. Bold as I was only days from Brutalizing Butter I was in his front yard opening the Caskets of his Brothers to see the Faces of my intended Killers Dimpled with Bullet holes. As I said, I was Bold with a pair of Brass. Teachie will never know how lucky he was grabbing them, when kids my age were in Bed I snuck out and went looking for trouble I was as problematic as they come. Still fourteen one day I got hold of a bunch of Shotgun Shells, dismantled them and made a Pipe bomb. There were two shells still intact my little Minion told me to bury them three inches in the ground and strike them with a Hammer, once again God intervened. I should have been Buried before fifteen. I was not supposed to have been Born, been a late Pregnancy and Mother in poor health, she was advised to abort me. Between two and eight I was rushed to the Hospital on Death’s door many times from antics I got myself into, which continued through twelve.
Why would I not give God thanks for Navigating the ensuing years of my Life. Where we are going with this? a Tale of all the Tragic lives that I have crossed Paths with in one way or another who didn’t use Rationality or didn’t have God looking over their shoulders like I did. I dwell on fourteen because it was the most important part of my development, living in an Era where the Drug Culture ruled, in a Neighborhood where the accessibility was abundant, living in a House that I didn’t have to go looking for it or paying for it. We were renting an apartment in a multi family Home of a God fearing Christian Man who was a Civil Servant, a Pillar of the Community. His Kids however were submerged in the Drug World, the oldest Boy was a Professional with a well paying Job, he was the Dealer. The sister that followed him a Professional Health Care provider was a huge Cokehead which took her Life before forty.
The Sister that followed her was the Supplier, the Baby of the Family twelve years old in Catholic School was my best friend, at fourteen years old I didn’t have to lift a finger to get stoned. God was looking out for both of us, he never touched the Coke, but he always had a handful of the finest Weed grown around the World. We smoked Weed seven days a Week, we were never detected until my Mother found an Ounce in my pocket while doing the Laundry and so begins intervention. That didn’t stop us from doing what we wanted to do, that same year my friend and I both Juveniles went to a grown up party that influenced my Drug use greatly. I walked past a Room where the Door was slightly ajar, what I saw cured me from every using Coke. In the Room were five College Kids all on the Floor snorting the spilled Coke from the Carpet, once again rationality had kicked in that this was not the way to go.
I continued smoking through High School, Grateful Dead Jim Morrison and Pink Floyd were our Favorite Musicians, but they thought us that Chemicals were Deadly. The greatest influence came from Kids dropping dead around me from overdoses, at seventeen while working and going to School one of my Coworkers seventeen also, stumbled out of the Bathroom spitting up Blood and died in my arms. They say that Marijuana is a gateway Drug but from all that I had seen up to High School you could not hold me down and put a Spoon to my Nose or strap my Arm and inject it or paid me to smoke a Rock. I grew up in a Nightmare Era, Drugs had New York in a tight grip for a long time, the Government did very little to stem the Tide until a Guy I worked with at Solomon Brothers became a Cop and was shot in the Head five times by Thugs who ran the Streets. I will further elaborate later.
My Mother always said that if you walked in Filth you will stink. As a result of being Street savvy while working as a Clerk in a National Supermarket Chain, the Produce Manager a nice soft spoken Family Man approached me one day telling me that I seamed to be a Street Smart Guy and how would I like making five thousand Dollars a week. Naturally I was interested I asked him doing what, he informed me working for Organized Crime making bulk Drop of Heorine. I attracted these kind of People like Flies. Still showing interest while I Rationalized the Offer, I asked him when could I retire, he said never, I asked him what happened to the Guy who’s Job I was taking, he responded in the East River. I didn’t need rationality to say no, but I am lucky to be here telling you about it after he had exposed himself to me. Right after this encounter with Organized Crime I decided to move to Texas and live with my Cousin an up and coming Seamstress and Designer. Mother thought I had a Flare for Fashion, she told me to pay attention and learn the Craft. That was short lived seeing how my Cousin lived. Years earlier she married this man old enough to be her Father, Jose once lived the lifestyle of the Rich and Famous as a Tobacco and Cigar Manufacturers in Cuba before Castro took over.
Once Fidel came to Power he Nationalized everything including the Air and Water theoretically. Jose fled Cuba leaving everything and was now down and out in Jamaica where my Cousin met him. The good soul she was thinking that she could nurse him back to Life not realizing that he was a beaten broken Man who had lost his Rationality, his way his Mind and Money and refused to try and find his way back to where he was Financially. He had no shame for spending her Money while working was below him. Instead he tried to live a scaled down version of his former life. He shuttled from Texas to Miami’s Cuban Communities where he had a Woman and sometimes a Man. Being the rotten little Man he was robbing young Boys of their masculinity was one of his Hobbies, just like Teachie, made me despised him even more. One Day he brought this Boy home that looked like Michael Jackson’s double, we were supposed to share the Guest Bedroom and the same bed, I slept in the Living Room, I should be Homophobic after being molested by Teachie but I’m not. It wasn’t long after that I was heading back to New York where I at least had my own Bedroom and didn’t have to share my Bed with some Deviant. Before I headed back to New York there was a Tragic event that reminded me that it doesn’t only happens back Home but in every corner of the World. The News broke that Elvis was Dead succumbed by the same Epidemic that took Jim Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Eric Burdon and countless others, including the poor unfortunate Junkies on the Streets back Home.There is no end to this Tragedy that Plague us until today, we now have the Fentanyl Plague. The sad part about Users is once the Drug of choice takes over Rationality is out the Window and they don’t see that their Lives are dwindling in an Abysmal Chemical Dependency. My Summer in Fort Worth was over and so was best laid for me to learn my Cousins Craft.
I knew enough to continue learning at Fashion Institute but didn’t have the motivation or the money for tuition. Within six months from the day I left Texas the Tragedies started to unfold, Jose was Dead, it appears that while I was there he was already infected with the HIV Virus. Why was I not surprised the way he Hopped from Woman to Woman to Men. Within another six months my Cousin was in New York at one of the few Hospitals that knew how to deal with Aids, it wasn’t long after that she also was succumbed by the Virus. She didn’t exercise Rationality(she screwed up) by letting him run around like a Bisexual Dog in Heat and allowing him to come back home and infected her with Aids, all that Talent Buried with her. As the saying goes ces’t la vie. So here I am back in the Big Apple without a Compass. I bounced around from one low level Job to another but Rationality had taken roots and I knew I never was going Back to the old Neighborhood and Hook up with all those Golden offers. One Day I responded to an Ad seeking People with outgoing personality for Sales, no experience needed will train. I showed up at the Address given at fifty seven St and Central Park West, the Doorman opened the Door for me as I was expected he directed me to the twentieth Floor apartment of Leslie D. There I met a young Man no more than twenty five. I was impressed that someone so young could be so Successful and owned his own Company, doing it Legally, or so I thought. He was impressed with the interview, I was hired on the spot. I had dreams of Sugar Plum Fairies working for this Guy hoping to learn how to become a Salesman selling Legitimate Products and not Street Products like Weed.
I started out with one Product, an Industrial Hand Soap for Mechanics and Garages, the Product was good and just about sold itself. I was doing well with just one Product, then we picked up other similar products, being an aggressive go getter I was out there every day, I was developing a Route that produced a good monthly income for Leslie, myself and the Manufacturer. One Day Leslie called me and told he had great news and that we should meet so he could discuss our new Product, he said that this Product will make us Rich. We met at one of my accounts Mechanics Shop, there he deflated a Car Tire by removing the Valve Stem, before replacing the Valve Stem and reinflating the Tire he squeezed eight ounces of a thick Liquid into the Tire then reinflated the Tire which he immediately Punctured with an Ice Pick. An Audience had gathered, within three seconds the Tire stopped leaking Air and was sealed permanently. Everyone including myself was blown away. None of us had ever seen this Product before, and so the Birth of Fix a Flat Today it’s on the shelves of every Auto Parts Store. We had found the Goose and the Golden Egg wasn’t Hatched, this was the Ground Floor Opportunitiy I had been looking for. The Product was raw packaging wasn’t developed yet it was for us to run with the Ball.
The Marketing plan was to Franchise the Product to Automotive Shops, the Product sold itself so within a short period fifty Shops had signed up to the tune of half a Million Dollars, my commission one hundred and fifty thousand Dollars. After Leslie took off with the entire startup money it occurred to me how a twenty five years old Man could rise up so fast to live on Central Park West and drive a Rolls Royce,he didn’t have a honest bone in his Body. He made the FBI most wanted list and I was mentioned not as a person of interest, because no money had passed through my Hands. Incidentally Leslie had a big Nose he once threw a party where he laid out six thousand Dollars worth of Coke for his Guests. Like the man said I was a Contender, I could have been somebody. Leslie was on the run in a white powdered Storm. Funny thing about half a Mil it doesn’t go far when you are on the run with a Monkey on your back. And so another Tragic Life down the Drain. Me I’m like the Eveready Bunny I just keep learning from all the Tragic encounters and keep on keeping on when others loose their way and fall by the wayside.
Every step I have taken since my Teen seems like God have been shadowing me, showing me how my life could have been in a constant reminder through all the Tragic lives that I have encountered. Here I am living in Springfield Gardens Queens NY a far cry from the Bronx in every way, still there is Drugs on some streets, not on my Block for one mile but here nontheless. We were renting the upstairs apartment of a split level Ranch in a working class Neighborhood. It was there I met a young Boy not yet fifteen very much like I was at that age, except for one thing he was totally aloof of the Human Race, devoid of living. I was born curious which got me into a lot of trouble at his age. So why should I stop now, this Boy’s demeanor puzzled me, I had to know the story behind his shallow existence. One day I decided to interrogate his Aunt who was my Landlord. You hear the saying don’t ask, it’s true. Her account was a chiller right out of a Stephen Spielberg Movie. This Child was psychologically damaged in so many ways he was irreparable, for two years he watched his Mother getting her Ass kicked day in day out by his Stepfather. One Day he snapped, picked up the largest kitchen 🔪 Knife and stabbed his Stepfather over twenty times.
After hearing the account of why this Child was so devoid of living I was sad for him and myself knowing that I would have done the same if I saw a Man lay a hand on my Mother and that I was put in the same position years earlier to kill Teachie and his Brothers. On the other hand I was happy for the dead Man, knowing that there is nothing I detested more than a Woman Beater, a Child Abuser, a Child Molester and a Rapist. When it comes to those kinds of people I appoint myself Judge, Jury and Executioner, God forgive me. Revenge is mine sayeth the Lord, on the flip side, the Lord help those that help themselves. By now I should be spreading the Gospel for all the time he delivered me from the Valley of the Shadows of Death, as he did while working for Solomon Brothers on Wall Street.
It was there I met a very personable young Man whose name was Edward Byrne where we worked in the Inturnal Security Department. During the time we worked together I found out that he wanted to become a Police Officer, by Day he was in training, at Night we protected Solomon’s Assets worth in excess of six Billion Dollars. It gets Lonley working in a fifty Stories Tower waiting for your relief to show up at twelve Am. It was during those Lonley hours I got to know Ed Byrne the Humanitarian with a childlike innocent personality, he wanted to follow a Family Tradition serving the Public as one of New York’s Finest. Eddie’s dream came into Fruition late 1987 a short while after I tendered my resignation with Solomon Brothers for not Honoring my request to transfer from 55 Water St to their offices located in the World Trade Towers. I was furious with my immediate Superior and his Boss a retired FBI agent I cashed in my Portfolio sold my House where it border Springfield Gardens and South Jamaica, I moved to the tranquility of the Poccono Mountains. Making all those rash moves I missed Eddie’s Graduation from the Academy. Friday February 26 1988 I was in the City working on a project turning my Mother’s Basement into an Apartment I worked into the wee hours of the morning busting the Concrete Floor and installing the Drain for the new Bathroom, all the noise I was making prevented me from hearing the five Bullets being pumped into the Head of my friend Officer Ed Byrne.
The execution took place within walking distance to my Mother’s House. Eddy was on duty in a marked Police Car in front of a witness Home that he was assigned to protect. As Fate would have it Ed was in the wrong place at the wrong time when Drug lords in Prison ordered the Hit on a Police Officer to send a Message to the Cops to Lay off breathing down their necks. Eddy was only twenty two but he was a big Boy with big intelligence I know that he would not let his guard down knowing the severity of the Job he was performing protecting a witness in that Neighborhood. This is what I figured, it was February a very cold month, he had the motor running to stay warm Windows up tightly, I know from experience driving long distance that the heat puts you in a lull also we both knew from working the Security Console at Solomon that inactivity at three Am is as bad as blasting the heat in a Car, to stay alert you need activity and oxygen. It took four Cowardly Jackals to bring him down, as Jackals always work in Packs, one walked up to the Passenger side to distract him while the Shooter crept up to the Driver side, the other two probably all Cracked up were the Lookout. As I have said before Crack Kills, one of the Assailants was wanted for murder in Connecticut another had Killed that same Day before killing Eddy. The four Jackals ages 20-25 were convicted and given twenty five to Life, the Gang’s Leader was also convicted of Eddie’s murder and given Life. Eddy was only on the Job seven months he was green and probably didn’t want to make waves. Working on an assignment like that in a Neighborhood like that where Thugs ruled the Streets I would have demanded a partner.
1972 my last year in High School at Taft in the Bronx, a Kid came to School with a Gun and shot up the Basement, that incident changed my mind from becoming a Cop, that was a Sign of the times of things to come. The Streets were getting bad I knew that I would have been a bad Cop who shot first and ask questions later. Eddy was a bigger Man, he knew the Streets were Bad nontheless he wanted to serve the Public.Well Eddy my friend you will never know how well you have done the Job you set out to do. When I was fourteen growing up in the Bronx I had seen that Fateful day coming. I just never thought that I would have been Blessed to have crossed Paths with the Avenging Angel I call Saint Edward. Why you are a Saint is because your life was Sacrificed to bring about change in the Lackadaisical manner in which the Government and Law Enforcement handled the Drug problem as early as 1968, when you were only two years old. For the longest time Drugs were only in poor Neighborhoods, the robberies committed to finance their Drug use and to finance the Drug Trade only occurred in the Hood. The 2500 Murders that occurred in Brooklyn alone in 87 created no urgency, it was only Gang members eliminating each other, many times the general public were caught in cross fire.
Twenty years earlier it made it’s way into nice Suburban Neighborhoods, still no urgency to stem the tide. Medusa was was still growing strong, the White Queen had made her way into the Rich upper East Side into the Nose and Lunges of the likes such as Robert Chambers and the Gang at the Pub. Still everyone casting a blind Eye playing Deaf Dumb and Blind. For a long period, New York, California and a large portion of this Country, Cocaine and it’s Derivative Crack had Neighborhoods in a state of siege, the Cops were over their Heads dealing with the astronomical amount of Murders in Neighborhoods like Brooklyn. Pandora was now out of the Box. It took five Bullets that were heard around the World to bring down the south American Farmers and Distribution Magnets, and the Cocaine Cowboys of Brooklyn South Jamaica and a third of this Country. Eddy my friend you went above and beyond in the Job you set out to do, thank you Friend because of you the Streets are much safer. I know that God have kept me here to tell this Tale of Tragic encounters. While living in Springfield Gardens on the fringes of South Jamaica, I got up one Sunday morning to perform one of my Sunday morning routines of going to the corner Store to pick up my Sunday Paper. I was a little late, all the Papers were gone, I traveled three blocks north crossed the Belt Parkway to the next closest store. When I arrived there were commotion in the Streets, the Block where the Store stood was cordoned off with Police Barrier Tape.
What transpired before I got there was a Drive By Shooting, someone in a Car had sprayed the corner with Bullets from an Uzi. I believed that there were injuries but no fatality as fate would have it I was short-footed to meet my Mortality once again. Which have me asking myself the question over and again why has he saved my life so many times to witness all the ill-fatedness that I have seen for so many years and so many Lives.
1990 I moved from the tranquility of the Poccono Mountains to a small Town in Nothern Pennsylvania called Wilkes Barre. In 1990 I would be amazed if the Population was one Million, yet the Crime Rate was just as startling as the Bronx. It was here that I met a young Man named Vincent Barberio, we met while working for the same Company and became great Friends. One Day Vince approached me and told me that If I didn’t mind working hard and traveling he knew of a contractor that was hiring at a better rate of pay than we were making. The only drawback was the Travel, the Jobs were spread out from North Carolina to Buffalo, from New York to Ohio.
We would pack a Duffle Bag and a cooler, left Monday and returned on Friday, the Company paid for the Hotel so that absorbed a lot of the cost. Vince and I always Roomed together, there were a lot of Rift Raft in the Crew so we watched each other’s back. After work we would return to our Hotel Room eat chill out watch TV and share stories about our Lives. We became good friends to the point where we introduced each other to our family, of all the People that I worked with in my Lifetime, Vince was one of the privileged few to got an invitation to my Home. The reason for that is you don’t go into business with Family and you don’t socialize with all your Coworkers, you should always be selective with Coworkers, they are not always trustworthy with your business and they spread gossip.
Not so with Vince and I, whatever secrets we shared stay that way. When I started writing Blogs one of my first Blogs were about Vince under a fictitious name. Today I can write about my Friend Vinny because while doing research I found out that he Died in 2016 seventeen years after I last seen him sitting at the Table in my kitchen. What preceded and followed our last meeting is noteworthy, because this also was a Tragic encounter. The Day after our last meeting Vincent Barberio was on Television, the Cops had surrounded his position and there was no way out.
Vince had lost it and taken his Girlfriend and his Baby Boy hostage I am not sure if he had threatened to kill them and himself or just himself. The situation was tense for hours, I was frazzled with stress that the Cops would act rashly and a Sharpshooter would have taken him out. Thank God there were no shooting, he allowed them to get close to him and was Tazed or pepper sprayed and hauled off to be Psycho analyzed and probably spend years in a Nuthouse. The events that preceded this Tragic encounter was were told to me by Vince for months while we shared Hotel Rooms while working in the contracting business. Sometimes he was repetitive but that’s what happens when things eats at you since you were a Child.
So here it is from Vincent’s mouth to my ears to yours. At an early age maybe nine he was Molested by an Uncle like myself he never told his Parents, the molester probably threatened him or laid a guilt trip on him. For a moment’s pleasure the Molester not only robbed my friend of his youthful innocenc but his entire Life. Shortly after the abuse Vince changed for the worse, as most Molested Children do. Being Molested didn’t have any effect on me because I extracted my own Justice. Poor Vince was a skinny nine year old, he was Traumatized, kept the secret to himself for twelve years until he bared his Soul to me.
Can you imagine the weight off his shoulders. Why wouldn’t he consider me a great friend knowing that I wouldn’t tell not another living Soul. The real tragedy occurred during those twelve years before he laid his burden on my receptive Shoulders. Shortly after the Molestation his personality took a hundred and eighty degrees turn, School, behavior and everything else in his young life went for a nosedive, speaking of Dives I believe he was twelve not knowing how to deal with the Guilt Repression he tried to commit suicide by jumping off the Market Street Bridge and found the only Rock waiting there for him.
He survived that Rock and picked up a new one(Cocaine) that one got him in trouble with the Law up to the Hostage situation. Can you believe it the Mayhem that Cocaine have done to our Societies since Hernan Cortez whacked out on Cocaine and wiped out an entire Civilization of Brilliant People to the Massacre on the Streets of Brooklyn five hundred years later, are we ever going to learn that the Plant is only ment for Medicinal use. Well my Friend Vinny never learned. While doing research on him I found out there in the year 2016 he Died unexpectedly at thirty nine years old. From past experiences when a user Dies unexpectedly it is usually from current use or years of abuse finally catching up to you. Rest well my Friend you are not Tormented anymore, and so another Tragic Encounter closed.