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The day before our wedding, my other church mother told me she knew we would still get married after she told me the truth about Seth because she knew the second she saw me across the quad on campus before school even started that we were just always meant to be together.

Throughout the entirety of our marriage, Jean exclaimed to anyone who would listen that we BOTH just knew from the moment we met we were always meant to be together we had such a powerful connection. 

We both just knew we were always just meant to be together as soon as we talked, didn't we Van? Didn't we BOTH just KNOW it as soon as we talked, we were just always meant to be together?"

Her desperate delusion was so strong she didn't seem to understand you don't have to propose to your soul mate if you're the girl. 

You don't have to slice your own chest open and scream for help to get your soul mate's attention. 

You don't have to pretend to be psychic or have a psychic stalker killer after you to get your soul mate's attention. 

You don't have to leave multiple death threats to get your soul mate's attention. 

You definitely don't have to rape your soul mate in the most horrific way to get him to have sex with you. 

And you really should never have to punch your soul mate in the face so many times to get him to do what you want him to do after get married.

There was never a single time during our thirty year marriage I ever asked for or wanted to have sex with my fat ugly stalker and rapist. 

It had to ask me to have sex with it. 

And I believed absolutely it was capable of killing me if I said NO. 

I couldn't close my eyes while taking a shower for years, worried, if I wasn't doing everything she wanted, that that is where she would stab me to death. 

I couldn't get the image out of my head of her slicing her own chest open bloody in the shower to get my attention after I refused her marriage proposal. 

Ever. 

And the disgustingly smelly morbidly obese ugly lady loved sex.

And it doesn't understand NO. 

And I wanted to kill myself every time it asked for sex. 

I will never recover. 

———

 

My life with Jean Adams started in a constant state of bloody fear, panic, and disbelief.

 

After we were married, the violent outbursts and black eyes that started almost immediately when I didn’t do what she wanted kept me in that state for most of our marriage.

 

Jean Adams was violent, I believed seriously mentally unstable, brilliant and desperate for me to love her, and wouldn't take No for an answer.

 

I believed absolutely that Jean Adams was capable of stabbing or even killing me if she didn’t get what she wanted from me. 

At almost thirty years of marriage, Jean was taking 3-5 Ambient and Vodka to get to sleep. 

She refused to take any medication to smooth out her wildly dipping mood swings and purging and vomiting 8-11 times a day, and she needed a lot of help to get put her down every evening. 

She woke me up in the middle of the night having read through the texts on my phone. Even my girls had the code - so there was never anything inappropriate on it.

Jean angrily accused me of having sex with three of my male co-workers, demanded to know if I was gay, and asked me if I wanted a divorce. 

I wasn't having sex with anyone other my rapist, it killed me as a human. I had no sex drive whatsoever being forced to have sex with my rapist all those years. 

Jean didn't believe, me, but I didn't care. My girls were old enough to come with me, and I desperately wanted to get away from my violently delusional stalker and mentally unstable rapist. And, yeah, if it were ever going to be another human, it would be a dude. Not at all likely, as I am completely broken when it comes to sex at all in any way whatsoever because of being forced to have sex with my violent jailer and rapist. 

Jean's telling was "We just always both knew we were meant to be together forever until one day Van just realized he's gay. 

Every word out of Jean Adams' mouth when it pertains to her and I is likely a lie or manipulation of the truth to make her look like the victim. 

The Rapist is not the victim. 

It took over two hours of me trying to coax her into talking about Seth, and being my stalker and rapist, and then she eventually bragged about how smart she is, and how desperate she was to have me and own me.  

———

When I finally got away from Jean Adams, I was a single dad, and between home and work, it took me years to not just come to terms with what had happened, but to get to the point emotionally that I was ready to tell people about my experience of being married to my violently delusional stalker and mentally unstable rapist. 

And I needed to wait to tell about this until my daughters, conceived with my rapist, were old enough to withstand the truth of their conception. 

I wanted to kill myself each and every time I had to have sex with Jean. I would have in my life never even seen a vagina if I hadn't been raped and jailed by Jean Adams.

I've never been able to talk about my wedding night. You can't imagine. 

My whole life with Jean Adams was a lie.

 

I absolutely did not ever want to be with a woman, or ever be married to one. 

But most especially, if I was one to hide, I would have married one of the beautiful women who have always adored me, not the fat ugly stuck pig Jean Adams. 

I am not the kind of person who would ever get married and try to pretend to be something they're not. 

 

I will die humiliated for ever having been married to to associated with Jean Adams. 

When Van can get off his lazy butt and record something, he likes to send out a song or two for the holidays. 

Here's some of his music from a ways back.

He hasn't done anything new in a while, since he's just too lazy to get to the piano and mic very often. 

MerryG333

333Bells

Tango333

333Moon

Van wrote this one for his daughters, about a hundred years ago, when they were young, and really seemed to like tango music for some reason. 

Here's one of Van's classical recordings. Don't listen too carefully. He botched it up in a bunch of places. 

333Night

Some Holiday Stuff

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Van

Tessa

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Bianca

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When Van can get off his lazy butt and record something, he likes to send out a song or two for the holidays. 

Here's some of his music from a ways back.

He hasn't done anything new in a while, since he's just too lazy to get to the piano and mic very often. 

MerryG333

333Bells

Tango333

333Moon

Van wrote this one for his daughters, about a hundred years ago, when they were young, and really seemed to like tango music for some reason. 

Here's one of Van's classical recordings. Don't listen too carefully. He botched it up in a bunch of places. 

333Night

Some Holiday Stuff

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Van

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Bianca

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Tessa

INFJ LEFT-HANDED PISCES MUTANT EMPATH NINJA ZOMBIE.

SOME HUMANS HAVE AN UNUSUAL REACTION WHEN THEY'VE BEEN TRULY HEARD. OR EATEN.

.ACCEPT WHAT IS.RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.

zombie red-2b.jpg

. THE FALL : MY LATEST ODDITY . 

CLICK PLAY. AND, WELCOME, TO MY NIGHTMARE.

[ A WORK IN PROGRESS. ]

VAN.CLIFTON

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.ACCEPT WHAT IS.RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.

. THE FALL : MY LATEST ODDITY . 

CLICK PLAY. AND, WELCOME, TO MY NIGHTMARE.

[ A WORK IN PROGRESS. ]

 

AND IT'S NOT JUST MY NIGHTMARE.

LOOK AROUND YOU. IF IT DOESN'T SEEM REAL, IT MUST BE A BAD DREAM, SO, CHANGE IT.

YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR DREAMS ONCE YOU REALIZE IT'S NOT REAL.

LOOK AROUND YOU. DOES WHAT IS HAPPENING AROUND YOU SEEM REAL? 

THIS ISN'T JUST MY NIGHTMARE.

R U AWAKE?

WAKE UP!

OR, ASK YOURSELF:

IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?

IS THIS REALLY REAL?

NO.

THIS.

CAN'T.

BE.

REAL.

CAN.

IT?

.

 

• IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END • IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END • IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END •

. ANDYOGET TO DECIDE HOW YOUR NIGHTMARE ENDS.

.VAN.CLIFTON.

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The day before our wedding, my Other Church Mother told me she knew we would still get married after she told me the truth about Seth because she knew the second she saw me across the quad on campus before school even started that we were always just meant to be together.

Throughout the entirety of our marriage, Jean exclaimed to anyone who would listen that we BOTH just knew from the moment we met we were always meant to be together we had such a powerful connection. 

We BOTH just knew we were always just meant to be together as soon as we talked, didn't we Van? Didn't we BOTH just KNOW it as soon as we talked, we were just always meant to be together?"

Her desperation was so strong she didn't seem to understand you don't have to propose to your soul mate if you're the girl. 

You don't have to slice your own chest open and scream for help to get your soul mate's attention. 

You don't have to pretend to be psychic or have a psychic stalker killer after you to get your soul mate's attention. 

You don't have to leave multiple death threats to force your soul mate your direction after he said no.  

You definitely don't have to rape your soul mate in the most horrific way to get him to have sex with you. 

You don't have to buy your own engagement ring if he's your soul mate.

And you really should never have to punch your soul mate in the face or body slam him against the wall so many times to get him to do what you want him to do after get married.

There was never a single time during our thirty year marriage I ever asked for or wanted to have sex with my fat ugly stalker and rapist. 

It had to ask me to have sex with it. 

And I believed absolutely it was capable of killing me if I said NO. 

I couldn't close my eyes while taking a shower for years, worried, that that is where she would stab me to death if I wasn't doing everything she wanted. 

I couldn't get the image out of my head of her slicing her own chest open bloody in the shower to get my attention after I refused her marriage proposal. 

Ever. 

And the disgustingly smelly morbidly obese ugly lady loved sex.

And it doesn't understand NO. 

And I wanted to kill myself every time it asked for sex. 

I will never recover. 

———

 

My life with Jean Adams started in a constant state of bloody fear, panic, and disbelief.

 

After we were married, the violent outbursts and black eyes and body slams agains the walls that started almost immediately when I didn’t do what she wanted kept me in that state for most of our marriage.

 

Jean Adams was violent, I believed seriously mentally unstable and/or chemically imbalanced as she was on and off of medication for many years, brilliant and desperate for me to love her, and wouldn't take No for an answer.

 

I believed absolutely that My Other Church Mother Jean Adams was capable of stabbing or even killing me if she didn’t get what she wanted from me. 

———

 

Throughout our marriage, Jean said I wasn't smart enough to know where our money was going, and that I wasn't smart enough to balance or have a checkbook. 

When she did finally let me have a debit card, I had to ask her permission to get even twenty dollars out, and, most time, I had to bring her a receipt to show her what I spent the money on, and, not always, but, sometimes, she would let me keep the change as "spending money," if I was lucky. 

———

 

When I finally got away from my Other Church Mother Jean Adams, I was a single dad, and between home and work, it took me years to not just come to terms with what had happened, but to get to the point emotionally that I was ready to tell people about my experience of being married to my violently delusional and desperate stalker and mentally unstable rapist. 

And I needed to wait to tell about this until my daughters, conceived with my rapist, out of deathly fear and loathing, not even remotely out of love in any way shape or form, were old enough to withstand the truth of their conception and family life. 

I performed my youngest daughter's wedding ceremony in June of 2022.

 

Knowing that both of my girls were emotionally doing better than ever, it's time for me to see if I even get to say this out loud without worrying that Jean is going to make my life even worse. 

I wanted to kill myself each and every time I had to have sex with Jean. I would have in my life never even seen a vagina if I hadn't been raped and jailed by my Other Church Mother Jean Adams.

I've never been able to talk about my wedding night.

 

You can't imagine. 

My whole life with Jean Adams was a lie.

 

I absolutely did not ever want to be with a woman, or ever be married to one. 

And, if I was one to hide the fact that I'm very gay, which I am most truly not, I would have married one of the beautiful sweet women who have always adored me and fallen all over me, not the fat ugly morbidly obese desperate and disgustingly smelly stuck pig Jean Adams, my Other Church Mother, who raped me and wouldn't take No for an answer to her marriage proposal to be her husband, and the father of her children. 

I am not the kind of person who would ever willingly get married and try to pretend to be something they're not. 

 

I will die humiliated for ever having been married to or even associated with Jean Adams. 

I haven't been able to be with someone I want to be with since I got divorced, over nine years ago. 

I'm not sure I ever will be able to be with someone I want to be with.

I've never even once held hands with someone I like, or got to snuggle on the couch and eat popcorn and watch a movie.

 

I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. 

Ever. 

My Other Church Mother forced me to be the exact opposite kind of human I was born to be. 

There's not really much of anything left of the person I was born to be inside me. 

I'm not even a real person anymore. 

I'm nothing.

———

 

I did not survive my Other Church Mother Jean Adams.

. THE FALL : MY LATEST ODDITY . 

 

CLICK PLAY. AND, WELCOME, TO MY NIGHTMARE.

 

[ A WORK IN PROGRESS. ]

 

I'm not the only one with nightmares. But, what you may not realize is,

You can change your nightmares once you realize it’s not real.

It's true. I promise. You can fly in your dreams.

If life is untenable, just look around you.

Does what is happening around you seem real? 

Even conceivable in your wildest imaginings? 

This isn’t just about my personal nightmares.

R. U. Awake right now?

Wake up!

Or, ask yourself:

Is this really happening?

Is this really real?

No. This. Can’t. Be. Real.

Can.

It?

.

Some Holiday Stuff

Other Almost-Music

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The Idiot.

Here's one of Van's classical recordings. Just don't listen too carefully. He botched it up in a bunch of places. And don't tell Ludy. He'll be pissed. Again.

333MOON

333NIGHT

Yeah. So Holy. 

MERRY333

Dudes are laid back.

333BELLS

Hark. 

Van's hatchlings liked tango music when they munchkins, so he wrote this for them. 

TANGO333

MY LATEST ODDITY: #27b

[ A WORK IN PROGRESS. ]

Van Clifton is the proud single dad of two awesomey incredible daughters who are part of his soul (but who don't like their photos online or we'd show you how gorgeous they are!), and, but, yawp, and you can bet yer sweet bippy both of those kick-ass young ladies are in a lot of ways tons smarter than he could ever hope to be. Because,

Van Clifton is a nincompoop. A moron. And a dork.

And, oh, yes, Van Clifton is also a fool.

And, but, also, additionally, about that blockheaded nitwit Van,

His favorite things in the Universe are his human female offspring, playing piano, composing mostly classica
l-type pieces of music, and singing. 

When Van can get off his lazy butt and record something, he likes to send out a song or maybe two for the holidays. But,


Van hasn't recorded a new holiday song in a while because he's just too much of a lazy twit
(and/or he works too much) to get to the piano and mic very often.

Oh well. It's probably for the best anyways. But, hey,

Click play to the left if you're brave enough to hear some of the village idiot's almos
t-music.

And, not to be too 'Wo
o-Woo,' but the dingbat weirdo is an INFJ left-handed Pisces, so he spends most of his time alone. 

MY LATEST ODDITY: #27b

 

 

CLICK PLAY. AND, WELCOME, TO MY NIGHTMARE.

 

 

[ A WORK IN PROGRESS. ]

 

 

I’m prone to nightmares. Always have been. 

What I realized when I was very young was, 

You can control your dream once you realize it’s not real. 

It's true. I promise.

If you have nightmares you can’t seem to escape,

Just remember to ask yourself throughout your day:

Is this real?

Could this really be happening?

Once you realize it’s only a dream,

You can fly.

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