organised slavery - part 2

Six days in the Galway, best times of her life surmised Eva,  english improving too, her purse cash laden, no longer afraid to go out, she bore nothing in common with the young shy woman she was when she first arrived thanks to her boyfriend. On the phone to her mother she described him as a twenty something doctor. How conor dolan would have liked to hear that description of himself, a doctor. She was going out for breakfast, the time ten and ten.

Passing reception she asked for Mario. She wanted to treat him. I’ll buy him something instead once she was told that he’d worked the night shift and wouldn’t be back till later that evening. The morning was fresh, the world a perfect sight in her eyes. New york new york, should have called it galway galway she smiled in a world of her own. The hotel receptionist gave her a map, and kindly marked out where they were located and where she could go for the best irish breakfast in the world, fanny o’briens, a small eatery located on Quay Street. It meant a short stroll, the journey taking no more than fifteen minutes.

I’ll buy momma something too, send her money, her father and two cousins, and uncle Thomas, she made a list while she wisped along, carelessly relaxed. Stopping at a jewellers, she looked at the glitter on display, admiring the price of everything. Conor had bucket loads of cash, and she was his girl. Conor, she liked the name. rolex watch, cheaper at home, and, her heart jumped. Wedding rings, she liked the one with the four stones on the gold band, wasn’t too expensive, only five thousand euro. I’m worth it she sighed, full of hope, still dreaming. She ventured further down shop street, the main shopping thoroughfare. Creative people these irish she decided, as there were street performers every twenty yards. She stopped at a mime artist, dressed in a silvery outfit. He stood like a statue on the street. People dropped coins into a bowl he had in front of him. each time they did, he moved his arm sharply, robot style. Eva stood watching too before moving on, preferring the sound coming from further down the street, sounded salsa. Only ten in the morning, what would the city be like later on, alive or what.

“conor dolan” announced Antoinette.

Rooney shook his head. Too early to be dealing with this shit he thought, his head under pressure, a late drinking bout having it’s affect.

“I’ll ring him back Antoinette, tell him I’m not here, tell him I’m not here” he said, adding.

“did we get those contracts signed, the bank wont release the money unless we have signed contracts, when are they in” he asked, referring to the murphys and their attempt to buy a first time home.

conor dolan stood listening outside rooneys office door, waited for Antoinette to hang up, a big husky smile on his face.

“do you see what I have to put up with, I send you, in the last three years I’ve sent ye more business than anyone else in this town, and do you listen to that yoke in there, the little whore, takes your money” chirped dolan.

“I suppose he was on the batter last nite” he added, about to enter into rooneys inner sanctum.

The door opened. Rooney not at all impressed, the situation out of his control once he saw who it was. Conor dolan had the charm of an Irishman when it was demanded of him.

“I want to show you something, get your coat on we only have half an hour” smiled dolan.

“we’ll have to be quick, I’ve clients coming in at eleven” replied rooney, on his feet and not feeling too well “we’ll have to stop for coffee” he added, out the door, and almost on the street. Dolan walked fast. Rooney followed.

“where we going” he asked.

Ten minutes later they were at the harbour, a short walk away. Site for sale,  half acre or thereabouts right next to the docks.

The harbour in galway is a very square affair, small compact and confined, no real space for expansion, but international in terms of it’s attraction. Dolan’s plan became obvious to rooney quickly. One side of the harbour was devoid of building, the opposite side full of them. Town was gaining international status, property prices climbing faster than anywhere else in the world. 

a piece of your heart...

A peace for your heart, a pierce of your heart, peace in your heart, and she wanted peace in her heart, no promises, she’d too many of those in her closet, the memories, some bad, he seemed different this time. First time they’d met in two years, she was listening to him go on, he was looking better, his teeth pure white, it looked like a new man before her. But inside she remembered the pain, said her goodbyes and walked away. She’s peace in her heart, and didn't need to be lead astray., didn't need it any other way. Memories, the scars and victorious, all she ever wanted to hear was truth, he just kept her as a servant cause that’s all she was, till they met this day. But it’s easy to under estimate the comfort of love, and the affect it has on other beings all around you. This is perhaps so simple, it’s almost too easy to understand, but it’s something we all can attest to, or at least we know someone whose been there so to speak. Young girl meets young boy, grow up, they break up, she goes to college on the east coast, he goes west, they mature, never see each other bar the odd funeral, end of story. Love between them grew gently, they were chaperoned by society, attitudes towards family values etc etc..nothing personal, just normal stuff. Her love matures, she’s not found the one, bingo, she hits the iceberg. Three years later, two careers, his busier, she gives up job to have baby, he goes away longer and longer working. Then the pressure mounts, bills, job insecurity, his internet porn addiction, her motherly ways, suddenly everything is out of sync. He meets someone online, starts his first affair. Wife busy with second child, intimacy is less and less, they go out together once every three months, and on birthdays. He promises her he’ll make a fortune online, no need to worry, he’s also on the cocaine now and has met some shady friends to go along with it, he’s also getting involved in all sorts of weird stuff online, every stuff involving children, he’s totally addicted, everything he sees is sexualized. She’s still a wife and mother, the children are three, the online company is doing well, bills are getting paid, but he’s always working, but it’s okay, cause the kids can afford their classes and have nice friends….he starts to fantasize about his daughters friends, begins buying online child pornography, company is doing really well, wife is now on the board of a charity, and feeling like she’s Imelda Marcus  oh the struggle was worth is she says, she even has new friends. Her husbands old friends keep her company. Being cool, she takes cocaine, the first time, husband by her side takes some too, they are suddenly bonded again, joined in love she thinks. So what is love, is it the beginning young girl, the young woman in love, the mother to be for the first time, or is it the woman who finds her love awake again, and this is just a snip, a bite. When love is allowed to flourish, it does amazing things. When it’s dimmed it causes addiction, cause rather than going through the pain of it, we turn our lives into sports, hobbies, drinking, reading, shopping, basically we find things to keep us busy rather than deal with emotions, as we seem to have little control over our emotions, they can be tinkered with is basically what is being said here, and if you can tinker with some else’s emotions you tinker with their life, and that’s why psychology is used to determine the voters mood, testing the water so to speak, and when bad people tinker with your emotions, providing the temptation you need, she can’t see you surfing the weird stuff, it’s only you you think, inside you begin to change. She watches him leave the house, briefcase in hand, sun was shining and the car was new, a baby cried in the room next door, she holds the child and listens as the car pulls away, child is quite, comfort is the cure, she places him down on the bed, she begins her medical cure. Three Valium for starters and two shots of vodka. Her head shudders, she shakes all over, hit her quickly, she falls back on the bed. Looks over at her wedding picture, taken all those years ago, the love she had in her heart that day, used up and gone away. ….we all have choices to make.

Faking it

A fancy box, a cool container, a press release, a series of press stories, what cost $2-3 dollars to produce, sells for $50 perhaps, a celebrity picked scent, don’t have much time it seems these celebrities, what do you call celebrity excess, the ultimate rip off, no one seems to be offended, cheap labor wasn’t used in it’s manufacture, it’s machine made,  don’t you wonder how stupid the human can be, faking it as they call it, show me an election that is fair, show me democracy, the emperors clothes syndrome as I call it, something only a child would notice, no adult wants to admit to such idiotic vanity, no matter how much the psychologist will tell you, shopping is good for you, show me a child who doesn’t like to be brought to the sweet shop, if the same psychologist told you that saving was better, you’d say, ain’t no hit in that, doing something, avoiding the issue, honey can’t we talk about this later, I’ll see the bank manager next week, we’ll go to counseling okay, whatever, the things we do to avoid listening, like david beckhams latest creation, or whatever the next celebrity smell is. If they said it was shit, you’d buy it if your boss was wearing it, the fake in all of us, it’s pushing the world to the limit of existence and children to the point of unbearable endurance, almost. It was much the same when jesus entered the world all those years ago, few wanted anything to do with a man who proposed sharing and doing good, no power in that kind of activity, well not on the ground, but in the heavens above, such activities open doorways, create great friendships, provides hope, encourages justice, promotes the ability to love, not the ability to manipulate, as those celebrity backed products have been doing for years, it’s time to cop on. She wakes in the morning, beard rash, spots, you name it, even his underwear is dirty, he asks her how it was, wonderful she replies, just can’t wait to see him out the door before she scrubs herself from top to bottom. Did you see the last great Hollywood blockbuster, it was great, the special affects left you in awe, the…so many stories hyped out of the galaxy, forgotten stories most of them, bar the dozen of so made by the likes of spielberg and co, the batman movies, the rest of the bunch, forgetful and of little consequence. When they price the movie take, it’s more merchandising than the movie, but in our lame thinking, we assume it’s a wholesale success, cause we never examine figures, unless we are looking at a woman. The only reason I raise a few of these dumb ass ideas, is to remind you, that when it comes to heavens joy, no one fakes it. It’s the only certainty that I am aware of on the planet earth, heaven is real, either prepare for it, or perish as they say. Sometimes the truth hurts, so does childbirth, so does growing up. The great thing about little children, they have a hard time faking it…it’s something they learn later, as they grow up, and follow the example set out for them, by the great teachers of the world, us.

organised slavery

“my first time” explained eva,  first time in Ireland. Sitting in the lobby of the southland hotel, a large boutique hotel, situated on eyre square, within walking distance of the harbour, that had been the host harbour for the Volvo International around the world boat race, eva tried to keep the conversation as simple as possible. Latvian by birth, she was drawn to Ireland and  Galway, by the rise of the Euro zone and the lure of hope, fortune and love perhaps. The couple sitting next to her, were middle aged and irish, the male of the pair having induced conversation. Eva was twenty one, tall, blond and pretty.

Pat and mary Flynn did their best to encourage the tourist industry, Pat more so than mary.

“did you ever hear of the Galway Races” he asked, talking slowly.

Her brain not used to English, she just nodded. Waiting for a contact to come and pick her up, no work papers on her, she was thrilled at the warmth of the older pair but suspicious also. She tried to limit the conversation as best she could, saying little.

“pat we’ll miss our train” quipped mary, envying the good looks of the much younger woman.

“goodbye now”

she watched them go out the door, not cops, not cops. Cops didn’t hold hands and open doors for each other. She looked at her watch, he was an hour late. Her focus was the entrance, he would come in that way she thinking.

“more coffee madam” asked a waiter passing by. She shook her head and smiled. She knew the word for bathroom was bathroom. Her bag was small, a hold all. She was told to bring few clothes as she would be able to buy a wardrobe once she worked a week. Five hundred euros for a week cleaning was a months salary back home. Other friends had made the trip and come home safely. She was catholic, believed in God. Ireland was catholic country, and the irish were well known around the world for their human rights work, bono in particular, bob geldof, and hosts of others. No place was safer in Europe she heard. And there were no Albanians here, made her feel safer even.

A four star hotel, with bay windows overlooking a square, hence the name Eyre Square, eva sat in a window seat, and waited. She liked the trees and flowers in the square, the fountain, the colourful people, many races, a cosmopolitan town, just like the brochures online. Couples passed, people holding hands too, not all of them, but some. Being young, love was fresh in her heart,  and  Galway an old historic town, seemed a perfect place to start. It was reassuring to see people happy. Back home, her local town was dilapidated, people out of work, options were few.

An hour passed, nervousness grew. The waiter had twice passed her, would he call the cops, what if something happened to her friend, she couldn’t ring home, she couldn’t call the cops. The coffee was the most expensive coffee she’d ever had, two euro’s,  only tea was cheaper on the afternoon menu. Picked up that morning at Dublin airport, she was technically on holiday, but without money. Put on the Galway train by another Latvian friend, she was given instructions. Hotel was near station, around a corner, she had a map but no mobile phone. Irish police she was told monitored mobile phones hoping to find illegal workers. So no phone, she could buy one once she had a job and was settled in. up to one hour ago, the plan had worked perfectly. Panicky, she told herself not to worry, this is Ireland. In old Latvia, she would have no job, no chance of having a life. She’d be like all the others who stayed home and regretted it. My big chance she kept telling herself, my big chance you silly fool, big chance, and maybe a boyfriend too. A bank manager in Latvia didn’t earn 500 euro a week she reminded herself. She heard a familiar accent, her heart jumped. The voice sounded Latvian, but her joy was short term, even if it gave her hope. A waiter, it was only a waiter. At least she could ask him for help she thought.

She watched him instead of the door, a little more relaxed.

Conor Dolan was raging, fuming, his knuckles as white as the gleaming white five series  BMW he was driving. Stuck if fucking traffic, can’t they organise shit he fumed. On the headford road, a main artery into the city, he was behind schedule. I’ll kill the bollox, he’s dead he fumed, referring to mad boy magill, the reason he was behind time and in the middle of the late afternoon traffic rush. Everywhere he looked he was surrounded by metal, cars sideways behind in front, about to vent his anger into his mobile phone, it rang instead. Every little thing she does is magic, the ring tone, the song made famous by the English boy band of the eighties, “The Police”.

“this better be good, I need good news” he said, speaking nicely for one so angry seconds earlier. Mario looked over at Eva, his eyes combing her legs, sizing her up, as he gave full description and potential to his unofficial employer/boss.

“I might keep her for myself if that’s’ the case” he laughed before hanging up.

it must be karma he smiled to himself, the traffic beginning to move, the reason for the hold up a bit more obvious. Two cars collided on a roundabout, closing one lane.

Scammers fucking scammers, being one himself he knew the routine well. Faking an accident on a roundabout was as simple as removing the break lights in the rear, the car behind having no chance once you break, insurance company pays out. Cops total tools he told himself passing a bunch of them taking instructions etc. what a waste of money too he told himself, counting them, five police officers, two police cars, all over a two car dint. Whiplash me arse he laughed passing on.

Nearing the southland, his business acumen kicked in. he threw two fifty euro notes onto the floor of the passenger side. Money always put people at ease, especially auctioneers and bankers. Two more notes were left on the seat, same type. Who ever got into the car would hand them back to him, the ones on the seat. If they saw the money on the floor, they’d think he was polluted with the stuff. Valet parking made the routine safe, of leaving money on car seats. Practiced and sly, whoever got in was

About to have an introduction to life on earth that is not describable, or for better wording, they would be the ride of the week at the galway races that were soon approaching, perhaps never going to recover either, as the slavery of women over decades has proved.

paddypicasso: A Prayer for the World

paddypicasso: A Prayer for the World: Hope love transparency justice fairness and revelation of truths, the message of lord Jesus Christ, righter of wrongs, revealer of truth, ...

The Digital Revolution

I will he promised, passing her at reception. Her exam was the next week. Magda was cute. She wanted another inklish lesson. He’d passed her details to an English teacher,

when she’d asked previous about it. He was away now, the same inklish teacher, and she’d a few tings that needed attention she said. She sounded so cute too, tick in the nicest way, almost cubanesque. He’d promised her that he’d give her a lesson. His hands went slap as he walked up the stairs, in rhythm, hand and feet. He’d made a personal decision at last.

His list was thinning, black lines through most of the channel numbers. Digital should have meant revolution. Media always wins the day, and the media was global. Harry was working at it, getting a grip on the global mania that was digital TV. It was out of control, he’d seen it. Big brother shows about the ordinary doing very little, food shows that preached how to blanch food, keep for a rainy day, star shows for the star in all of us, famous and poor shows, naked shows, shows about shows about how the shows should show more, freedom of the press, freedom for the depressed,  shows, attention keeping, mention the word tension, war shows, not forgetting holiday shops, we all need to partake, in the digital revolution..

God in a nutshell

It’s the billion dollar question, God, how do we make him smile, laugh, proud of us, and what part we play in the game of life, how will we be judged, what are our chances of making it to heaven, is there any point trying, if these are topics of interest to you, I suppose they are, then it might be just a question of believing in what is divine and acting in that fashion, too simple I expect, but what is water, a very simple yet essential source for life. I’ve been on this path sometime, aware of divine intervention, and what divine intervention actually means. Put simply, it’s the chance to do it again, but better this time around, as many who have been saved from deathly situations can attest too. When it comes to faith in the divine, we all tend to be shy, or no one likes to be reminded about all the things they do wrong, and like all thieves, no one of them likes getting caught out publically, private will do fine, least our friends won’t find out, and besides, they probably have much worse stuff on their plate, they know this privately themselves, and like ourselves, who needs to be reminded. But in terms of God, the desire and application of what is right, thinking about it never delivers, might pass a few years as they say, but God is into those that do what is called of them, not what we do for ourselves. You can’t be Christian and into yourself all the time, that’s one of our great concoctions, and it’s what most of the media and consumer led corporations want you to do, think of yourself. So assume you have parked your ego, you can’t go out looking like that monica, what will the neighbors think, get over the ego bit, and your left to you, alone, just you, no one else, you, that’s me, I’m talking to you, once your left to being you, and no one else, no camouflage, large house, good job, fat bank account, hey I worked for that, so do the one dollar a day employees of most large western based corporations with operations in Vietnam, Cambodia, china, they earn a little more in china, they also work hard for their little bit, so really you don’t work that hard, what about the kids, if they are healthy just be glad, I can hear the complaints already, tell me something new, if you feel so strongly about it write it down, anyway, you parked the ego, it’s in a safe place, only you can rouse it, it ain’t going away, but once you put yourself last in matters occasionally, not out of duty because you have kids, that’s not putting yourself last, that’s called doing what your supposed to do when you have children to care for, okay, I’ll nominate you for the nobel peace prize for children, now you feel better, but in your neighborhood there is a need, and your not rich, you can’t write a cheque and get back on the yacht, your not a politician and seeking brownie points, your just the ordinary kind and decent person who helps when you can, you’re the teacher who stays behind occasionally to help that slow learner, you’re the dude who visits the elderly man who lives alone, you, by good example encourage others to do more good, you’re the parent who brings the kids to church, even if your not sure yourself, because you know it’ll do them good, these are God’s kind of people, ordinary. And the great thing about being ordinary, is that when you do something extra ordinary, the whole world will find out about it, and will get better as a result. I’m a very simple man, but I have great respect for all those men and women, of all denominations, who put their love on their sleeve, and just do it because it is the right thing to do. The mother who raises her kids alone and gets it done, the nurse who works for peanuts compared to those who work in financial services, because she lives to care, the doctors who continue to educate and educate in order to provide a better service, the fathers who make time to make sure their children feel like the most important children on the planet, all the people who do what they do out of love and nothing else, these are God’s own. Like I said a few lines ago, I had the luck of the divine, and what started as the worst few hours of my life, turned out to be the most valuable lesson I ever learned, God is real, and God has plans for us all. Briefly, we were all created by love to love and to encourage love, and love in this context, is not the pleasure we can sometimes enjoy, but the hope we raise in other hearts by our own actions and good deeds. My mother taught me some of this, those who went before me reminded me of this, before the divine got seriously interested in me, and made my mind up for me on this, it wasn’t a sudden flame moment, or an awakening as they say, it was a conscious desire to know more that lead me to this moment along with spiritual guidance. But this I know without doubt, we are all of the son, the sun, that thing that rests in the sky and provides us with heat and light, without we are dead, too much and we are toast, and like all things that exist, they just didn’t appear, wisdom got to work and she filled in the gaps. Ask yourself the following, why do stars shine, cause they ..stand out. But one of the great tragedies of this world, is that we don’t fully understand our own potential, what we can actually do. To fill you in on one thing, beware of this, good thoughts bounce out of good hearts, bad thoughts ooze out of bad minds, and thoughts good and bad can be read by the many angels, good and bad that orbit our space, both at work and at home, and because the evil ones, the masters and mistresses of this world, those who proffer pleasure before justice, consumption before thoughtfulness, greed over concern, because these folks do not want heaven and earth to unite, as one, as hoped by God many thousands of years ago, as once heaven and earth unite, there’ll be major changes for all those who have been loving, and bad outcomes for those who promote evil ways, roman empire, Egypt, etc, all those empires of old have gone, in ruins, those who actually support the evil menace and their supporters will continue to try to interfere in all that is good, that has been the way for many generations, but I’m glad to say, that God has got the upper hand, after quite a struggle, a struggle that is made easier the more we do it his way, and that is my opinion of God in a nutshell, I’m just a plain old Christian of catholic descent by the way…but I’ve seen the light, and when it comes to prayer, don’t think any old prayer will do, if your actions don’t add up don’t expect results, and if you truly believe, be patient, God has been let down by most of us, and isn’t easily fooled, he’s well used to those of us who are political as they say, mighty in words but poor in deeds, hope it helps you on your journey.