One Life to Live Shared

Toxic & Poisoned

The air I breathe in this city is dirty and heavy; I wake up with a blocked nose. I can’t breathe properly, it is heavy and dense here with smog lurking.

Why do I feel ill every day?

The water I drink is heavy, full of metals, fluoride and god knows what else.

The food I eat is riddled with pesticides, genetically modified food and plastic wrapped packages of death. All the fruits of the earth are contaminated.

The body I live in has been given vaccines without my consent as a baby. Who knows what these injections have done to our bodies.

The people around, the masses, thrive off gossip and projection. Where are you realness? Why all the small talk constantly?

This environment is for caged animals. We should not have to live on top of each other in tower blocks.

This mind I have been given has been infiltrated with programming and brain washing since day one. Frequencies and signals frying my brain from satellites and wifi.

We are being poisoned in one way or another.

That is the point, that is the goal for those on the dark side.

Fake lies about a virus circulate the earth; fear spreads like wildfire.

Children are suffering. Human trafficking is coming to the surface like never before. The world is run by psychopaths and pedophiles disguised as friendly, fake and smiley. I see right through you.

We as a human family have been poisoned, manipulated, lied to, deceived and the list goes on and on.

Please, I pray that we all receive relief from this toxic and poisoned reality.

Justice will come for all.





-DiosSoulRelics 30/09/20

Toxic & Poisoned
One Life to Live

Notes #37

Notes #37
One Life to Live Shared

On the fragility of life

Everyone dies! Nothing is permanent. How to cope with this volatile life.

On the fragility of life
domestic abuse One Life to Live Random Thoughts Shared Society

The hatred for ‘Karens’ is out of control – spiked

Yes, I’m pissed, and you should be too. Enough is Enough!

My wife’s name is Karen… why – do you have a problem with that?


It’s 2020 and one of the most popular trends on the internet is the ritualistic humiliation of women. Specifically of white, usually middle-aged women. They’re called ‘Karens’. And the hatred for them is off the scale. It has become a bloodsport. Mobs of the supposedly virtuous love nothing more than to hunt these women down, film them, post the content online, and then sit back and watch as the women’s lives are destroyed by armies of Karen-haters. Women have lost their jobs, gone into hiding, issued desperate, Salem-like denunciations of themselves in a bid to save some shred of their reputation. Let’s call it what it is: modern-day witch-hunting.

The latest witch to be ritualistically humiliated by the Karenfinder Generals is known only as Leah. Her public shaming has actually caused controversy, suggesting that the wheels might finally be coming off the Karen-hating juggernaut. The shaming ritual took place in Seattle this time, when a black man called Karlos Dillard followed the woman to her home after they allegedly got into an argument while driving their cars. Dillard says Leah stuck her middle finger up at him and called him a nigger. Leah says this didn’t happen. It later transpired that Dillard has something of a history of hunting down ‘Karens’ and accusing them of saying things they didn’t say.

The video makes for deeply disturbing viewing. The woman is incredibly distressed. She shakes and weeps as Dillard films her and humiliates her. What makes it even more chilling to watch is that this woman – unlike some of the Karens previously caught on camera – knows exactly what is happening. She knows that she has found herself at the metaphorical stake; she knows she is being named and shamed as a witch and that her life could completely fall apart. ‘He wants to say I’m a Karen’, she weeps as she covers the license plate of her car in a desperate effort to remain anonymous and protect herself from the mass harassment, threats of violence and potential job loss that always follow the exposure of a witch to the baying virtue-signallers of social media. We are witnessing a woman fighting for her life.

For the rest of the article click below

One Life to Live Shared Video (otw)

-Through Kimberlee’s Eyes – video (otw)

This is just a little snippet of my beautiful daughter’s life, her family, her friends.
We love you Pumpkin. You are so missed.
Shine on my Beautiful Star!

One Life to Live

Independence Day ***2019

While there are celebrations going on here at home, half a world away we are still fighting an enemy, I will never meet. My son, on the other hand, has met them. Today, as any other “Independence Day” is not a good day for him. Now he lives with PTSD… So there’s that. 😦

1000 Words One Life to Live


One Life to Live Uncategorized

Crossing Over

Pixie (my puppy of 15+ years), and her  trip over Rainbow Bridge ***01072018

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. 

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….
Author unknown…

One Life to Live Update

(update) Something Wicked This Way Comes (update) 

Those of us who stayed behind 

One Life to Live

Something wicked this way comes (no, not the movie) 

Weather wars (designed for maximum destruction) 

I’m not in the direct path, but I’m close enough (especially for a catagory 5 – is anywhere really safe?). My wife is taking the kids north to New Hampshire. Me? Nope, I’m staying. Yes, my life has value. 

***Have faith, all things will work out.  

One Life to Live

The continuing Custody Battle (a new bill) 

And here we go again… this custody battle is taking place, not to “support” the attorney we are paying, we are doing this because it is the right (and in the best interest) thing to do our granddaughter. Then we get a bill (I guess our retain fee has been used up), for $897. Now i realize that custody battles are NOT cheap and lawyers do this stuff to get paid… but seriously, doesn’t anyone really care about the health and well-being of this child?

This whole fiasco (see earlier post) of the father not bringing our grandaughter home (we have primary custody) when he is supposed to – and my wife got admonished for letting him take her. We have no clear guidelines on what we are legally allowed to do and allow, and our lawyer charges us for each and every inquiry, whether by email, phone call, or visit. My research shows me that they do this on purpose, to get more money, but hey… we will continue to pay them, because we are doing this for the best interest of the child, and NOT to become rich.
But at the end of the day, my wife really is thinking about firing our lawyer. 

~ to be continued ~

One Life to Live

*custody battle* The Return of the Grandbaby

So… father (never been a “daddy” to this baby)  dearest is supposed to be returning our grandchild today. *Yes, it’s been two weeks already. – I never would have agreed to letting him take her out of state, but I’m trying to play nice, and all…

But guess what? Yesterday he tells my wife he wont be able to bring her home until Friday. He CLAIMS he will be fired if he takes the time off. Ummmm… He arranged the date for picking her up, what happened to arranging the date for returning her? It’s not our fault that he lives several states away (ran back to mamas house waaaay back – close to two years ago, now), essentially abandoning her to our daughter.

Also, in the “written agreement” he is supposed to have his mother with him when picking up/dropping off our grand child (not verbatim), the last time he came, he had two friends with him. He “borrowed” our car seat and it was supposed to be returned right after he was dropped off at the train station. That was two weeks ago, and still no car seat.

~ a liar AND a thief he is, ***and we have police reports to back that statement up as well.

I could go on…  but… 

*** to be continued ***

One Life to Live

Six (6) months and a few hours later

Six months ago today (about 3am eastern time) my 25 year old daughter passed from this life, my wife wrote an open letter and I’m sharing it here, now…




An open letter to whoever came up with the idea that having a funeral after a tragic loss was a really great idea: Your idea sucks. 
Holding a funeral for a child immediately after they’ve passed away is a TERRIBLE idea. 
6 months ago today, I lost my daughter.  It’s not intentional that I’m writing this just about the hour that everything happened, it’s just that this is the same time each night I wake and relive it all wether I want to or not. 
In the following hours after she passed, as I waited  for my son’s to board their planes and friends and family made preparations to come to Georgia, my mind was only filled with reliving a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.  That’s not for sympathy or dramatic pause. That’s my truth. I was running on automatic and making the difficult phone calls I needed to make. I was making sure the granddaughter was fed and dry and in my sight at all times, trying to make sure the youngest children were being fed and hugged when they needed to cry, but in my mind I was still in the middle of this huge emergency that didn’t seem to end. I couldn’t shut my eyes without seeing it & hearing it all over again. My mind was shutting down and my bruised & battered body began reacting to the stress and fear and shock in ways that nobody ever  talks about. Stress ain’t pretty, let me tell you. 
And then some ancient sadistic archaic etiquette dictates that this is the perfect time to go meet with the funereal director and talk about how you want to honor your kid.
I don’t want to honor my kid, I want to take a nap. I want to get in an airplane and go away. I don’t want to be here doing this. 
I’m asked to write an obituary when I can’t put 2 coherent thoughts together. The best I could come up with is my daughter was unique and loved animals? Really? I’m harsh with myself yes, but I’m also critical of the person who came up with the idea that this was a good time to try to sum up 25 years in a single paragraph when I haven’t even begun to process what’s happened yet. 
And so I did what I thought was best. I let my oldest child speak for me when my throat closed and my mind seized, and he stepped up and made hard, yet sensible calls that no brother should have to be put in the position to make. 
And then people came, and there were more tears, and there was a flurry of arrivals and activities to keep my mind of the impending event for just a short time. 
And suddenly, I’m here. I’m arriving at my daughter’s funeral. It’s so people-y inside, and I don’t do people. But they need me and I need to comfort them because everyone’s hurting so bad, so I comfort them and I make sure I speak to everyone and hug generously, because who knows when or if I’ll ever see half of these wonderful people again, and dammit, I could almost enjoy their company if I could just shut my mind off for 12 seconds and focus. 
But I can’t. 
And the funeral is over, and I’ve forgotten why we came here. 
Oh? To say goodbye? Well that’s silly. I’m not ready for good bye. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. 
 And so there I was, getting ready to leave the funeral home clinging to my daughter urn and cringing inside my hollow chest. I’ve second guessed every decision I made, from the cremation to music choices every moment since. My biggest regret? I’m stuck with this terrible obituary for my daughter, because someone, probably a real shit head, a long time ago decided to make a rule that you need to do all this crap the minute your loved one passes away. 
Kimberlee, you left us 6 months and a half hour ago, and I have felt each minute pass like an eternity. I love you so much, and I am still so mad at you for leaving just the same. You could make me laugh one minute and want to wring your neck the next. You made everyone feel special and you loved your friends fiercely. You had a million best friends, but when they were with you, in those moments, you were everyone’s best friend, and only those who knew you know what I’m talking about. I know, because some days you were my best friend too. Some days my only friend. And then you’d do something Kim-like and ohhhh I’d get SO mad. You got such a kick out of making your mother furious. 
And it’s only now that I find can I take a breathe without that sharp pain threatening to steal it away from me. My mind is able to function, though admittedly on a somewhat simple level. I could write your obituary now that the shock has worn off some. If we had your funeral today, I could probably even manage to stand up and tell a few funny stories about Leggo’s up your nose or tripping on air, walking into walls, or how you’d cry all the way to Southern Illinois that you had to pee but yet absolutely refused to potty on the side of the road the entire 6 hour trip. I could have told the story about that one day at work the dog “pants’ed” you when you had gone commando, or the time Dad circled the airport for over an hour trying to pick you up in Jacksonville but you just kept letting him drive by because you didn’t have your glasses. 
I could have put together a really cool collage that I’ve now had time to work on. I have no idea how people manage to throw one or a half dozen of those things together before a funeral. Every picture I dragged out stabbed me in the heart until I said ok, I’m tapping out. But now that I can look at them again without breaking down, well of course it’s too late. 
I think back of the very last time I saw you, and I didn’t know then that it would be it. I thought it would be different. I thought I’d have one last time to be our one last time. But now I realize that even if I had gotten the opportunity, that I couldn’t have and I wouldn’t have said goodbye. Because 6 months later I still can’t do it. 
It’s too late to undo anything. I can’t go back and change a thing. 
I still think holding a funeral for your child just days after a loss like this is just the shittiest idea anyone’s ever come up with. I may never understand why people do it. Closure? I’m not sure you get that with these kinds of things. At least I know I’m no where close. That’s the kind of thing you do for Grandmother’s and Great Uncle’s and people who have lived long lifetimes and are more than ready for a great send off. Not for little girls who should be still leaving their wet towels on the floor and getting make up stains in the sink and eating your last donut or leaving purple hair dye on the back of the toilet lid. As I said, it’s been 6 months, (+ an hour and 15 minutes now) and there are still days I expect you to come flying up the steps after work and walk through the door with a cat in your arms and saying ‘Mom, isn’t this the most majestic creature you’ve ever seen in all your life?’ Because that’s who you were. Unique, and you loved animals. 




Life can (and will) hit you hard… sometimes

One Life to Live

For my wife

One Life to Live

Happy Happy Birthday 

Happy Happy Birthday to the Greatest Granddaughter I could ask for. 

What’s so terrible about two, with a face like that? 

One Life to Live

Visitation #1 (day one) 

This is day number one of (I’ll call him) “Matt” visiting his daughter. It has been nearly 6 months since he has spent any real time (and that was only a day) with his daughter and before that, a year.

In the mediation, we agreed to allow him the days surrounding her birthday, so here he is to collect on that promise. I hope he is ready for poopy diapers and sleepless nights (just for starters), and I KNOW he isn’t.

I worry for my granddaughters safety. He has proven that he is not capable of taking care of a child (let alone himself) he is taking her overnight (supervised) and he plans to take her to the ocean tomorrow? ***ish

He isn’t allowed to leave the state, but you never can trust disgruntled fathers that have physiological problems. I worry…


What can ya do? Even with his background of drug abuse, physical abuse, physiological problems, criminal activity, lying, cheating, (I’m leaving a lot out)… we don’t want to deny him his parental responsibilities. ***whatever*** (rolling eyes) 

I know he isn’t capable, but in the eyes of the  law it must be proved that he is unfit and unworthy.
What can you do?

***Day number one comes to the close***

One Life to Live

The Battle goes on

Mediation day came and went with a few hiccups. We didn’t stick to the plan we had laid out, but…  it wasnt a total disaster either. We agreed on a few visitation days for him (supervised of course). *sigh*

What did we get? Hmmm, that’s a very good question. We have had physical custody, but now we actually have legal custody too (bout time, I’ve only been requesting some-thing since February). So I can finally get Kennedy medical insurance, through my employer. The father says he has the paperwork to do the same thing… funny thing is, he was (and still is) missing needed information to do that; middle name (yeah, his daughter and he doesn’t know it) actual birthdate (when asked, he only knew the month, not the day), and social security number (once only used for employment purposes, now it’s needed for almost everything – and no he didn’t/doesn’t know it). – Just for starters. 

***Out of the loop and STILL out of his mind***

We don’t want to deny him his child, IF he can prove that he is mentally able to care for her, financially able (meaning he has stable employment *he’s had more jobs in three years,  then then I have fingers) and can lay off the drug use. *he is an admitted drug abuser* 

… He is also the one that ran from this state (another story for another time) 

Court date has been set *again* because of the “mediation” demand (they do that in this state), the original date was pushed off till later. *I can hardly wait to get this “ball” further down the hill – it’s been too long now*
One final note, when people talk about custody battles, I see the majority as being between a husband and wife and the divorce that they have gone through. In our case it is between the grandparents (us) and the father after our daughter died.

Custody battles are not always about divorced parents, but some-times it’s about parents of the parents; about loving family members that care enough to step up and do what’s right for those that can’t do for themselves. 


Health and Healing One Life to Live Shared Society Video (otw)

Today Is Your Birthday! 

Today is Karen’s birthday.

Well Happy Birthday To You!

Happy, Happy Birthday to you Sweetheart 

One Life to Live

Custody Battle (looking forward) 

​”In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might, Beware my power–Green Lantern’s light!”

Okay, so I may have gotten ahead of my self, just a little. *more on this later… 

The wife  and I got all our paperwork  into the lawyers office on time, and now just two weeks before the trial date,  we are hit with a “mediation (not a request) demand. *if we fail to appear, we will be held in contempt (or rather my wife will be as I’m not even mentioned). 

Why, all of a sudden, we can only speculate.

***Apparently it’s something new that can occur in these types of cases, here in Georgia.***

With this “new” development our stress level has gone up, and anxiety has blasted through the roof.  *sigh*
But anyways back to the quote 

“In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might, Beware my power–Green Lantern’s light!”… 

  • I tell my wife that even though it looks dark now, we just need to look towards the light. 
  • Green is my favorite color, so the quote just kinda works. LoL

    No matter the reason, why am I not surprised, that I must pay for this mediation? Why do I get a form, for financial aid, when I won’t qualify (because I earn too much) but “he” can qualify because he doesn’t work? …well, that’s not entirely correct (from what I understand) “he” is working as a councilor (somewhere). No wait, huh? Doesn’t one need need a degree for that? Hmmm

    ~~to be honest, I just wanted to add the quote, well… because I like it.

    One Life to Live

    Custody Battle (the continuing saga) 

    All this paperwork is enough to drive anyone batty. When first I was reading the information we were to give the attorney, I read it as they requiring me to come up with three (3) years of check stubs. Really? Three years worth? Good golly, why three years? ~the reality of the situation is, they really asked for the last six (6) months worth. LoL! Well, that’s a load off my mind.

    What really bites my ass, is that my wife is named as the Defendant, and only her. I am named only as a co-ocupant of the house. I am the only one doing the (income producing) hard labor of full time employment, my wife; being a stay at home mother, has no income, how then is she required to provide employment records (such as pay stubs)? Hmmmmm…

    One Life to Live

    So it begins… CUSTODY BATTLE

    So, on February 14 (yes that’s valentine’s day here in the US of A) my wife and I retained ourselves a lawyer.
    Other then the receipt by email, we hear nothing from our attorney for two weeks, then out of the blue (and quite unexpected), the sheriff arrives to serve my wife custody papers. Seems that the dead beat “sperm donor” got himself an attorney and is going to try for custody after all.

    He just wants Kennedy because she would be a free pay check and a trophy to put on a shelf.

    Sadly he essentially has assured her no medical insurance until this matter is settled. I am not able to insure her through my employer now. We had tried to get an emergency custody hearing for at least temporary legal custody, so that I could get my granddaughter some health insurance. Nope, not gonna happen now.

    … and time marches on … 


    One upside to “him” having “us” served is; we just saved ourselves a bunch of money.