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Topics - starry-eyed pirate

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136
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / The kid who flew into the cinder block wall
« on: September 02, 2005, 12:38:00 AM »
i remember this time at the springfield program (circa 1985)when this black kid, his initials were G.W., got up from his seat on front row and ran full speed right into the cinder block wall behind the 4th phase side.  i think he had jus' been brought back from leavin'.  It was pro'ly jus' about the most violent thing i' ever seen.  That kid jus' exploded out of his seat and flew over 2 rows of 4th phasers and into the wall.  Head first.  i mean he wasn't jus' lookin' for attention, he was really tryin' to hurt himself. i remember the blood streamin' out of his nose and down onto his shirt.  He had always been a passive kid up to that point.  Str8 pushed him over the edge.  He ended up bein' restrained on the floor between the 4th phase side and the rest of group.  He pro'ly should'a' been taken to a hospital to find out if he had suffered a concussion or broken nose but i don't think he got any real medical attention.  Fuck.(shakin' my head)

Fuck Str8.  Fuck all authority.  Peace.

137
The Seed Discussion Forum / The Seed compared to Str8
« on: August 31, 2005, 03:16:00 PM »
i am wonderin' about some of the differences between the Seed and Str8.  Like on that "How many made it" thread this cat, Stripe says he graduated from the Seed in the "requisite 90 days".  Was the Seed only a 90 day program ?? If so howcome so many Seedlings seemed to spend years in the program ??  Is this because they went on to become staff members or what ??  The avg. length of a program at Str8 was 12 months.  

i don't know but i have the feelin' that The Seed was in some ways, somehow less harsh than Str8.  Did the Seed and Str8 share all the same rules ??  Were there "misbahavers" at the Seed and if so how were they dealt with ??  Were they put on consequences like military showers and sleep deprivation(only 3 hrs. of sleep per night) ??  Did the Seed have 5 phases like Str8 ??
At Str8 newcomers were in group every day.  Mon. Tues. Thurs. and Sat. newcomers were in group for about 12 hrs. On Sundays newcomers could sleep in a little and there was usually a good and hearty breakfast at the host-home. On Sundays the building didn't open until like 2p.m.  On Wednesdays we were dismissed from the building by 8p.m. which was earlier than the rest of the week, and there would usually be a nice dinner upon arrival at the host-home.  Was the Seed organized in a simillar way ??

i am just trying to see how Str8 evolved out of the Seed.  What were the simillarities ??  What were the differences ??  How is it that the Seed seems to have been a friendlier place ??

i know i am asking a lot of questions but i am struggelin' to understand what happened to me in Str8.  Any insight that anyone can provide is an immense help to me.  i thank you in advance.

Peace.

138
i was so fucked up when i came out of str8 that i didn't know how to relate to the outside world.  i couldn't smile at strangers, couldn't understand jokes, couldn't follow simple directions and couldn't hold a job.  For over 2 years of my life my world had been str8.  When i was finally released i had no clue who i was, what to do or how to act.  i had no reference points.  i had no personality, no sense of self.  My personality had been destroyed.  i was left with some pseudo-personality which was foreign to me. Str8 made me so sick.


During my time in str8 i learned to suppress my "real self".  There were certain parts of my "real self" that i hid away, out of sight of staff and the group. In str8 i was forced to adopt a pseudo-personality as a survival tactic.  There were times when i misbehaved and as long as i misbehaved i was expressing my "real self" but eventually and by degrees i surrendered my autonomy, my integrity.  So over time and within that controlled environment i adopted the beliefs of the cult.  i was brainwashed(and in some ways may still be).  But there was always a little part of me that remained free.  i had secrets that i guarded.  Past incidents that i never mentioned, flirtations with female 5th phasers that i never told anyone about.  i filled out my permissions for school in such an ambiguous way that i was able to get away from school for hours at a time and no one knew where i was. At school i broke lots of rules; talked to cop-outs and withdrawls. In other words i was full of shit my whole program.  i never even thought about it like that 'till jus' now !!

it was like i was livin' a double life.  i repressed all my natural spontaneity.  i developed such an anxiety about bein' caught that i learned to analyze my emotions before they could be expressed on my face(i think the psychologists call that "low effect"). i worried constantly that some symptom of my dishonesty would slip out. My life was just a lie. Insane.

i suppressed my "real self" so deeply that when i finally did get out of str8 i was completely lost in the world.  i was even lost to myself.  Everything, it seemed was just a lie.  i was incapable of trustin' anyone.

i did a ton of drugs: L.S.D[which was full of strichnine(sp?)], crack, P.C.P, whatever was around i did in an attempt to recover from the brainwash, my logic bein' that if i was brainwashed not to do drugs then drugs would somehow cure me of the "wash".  Really i jus' compounded my confusion at the time.

i couldn't figure out how to relate to anyone who hadn't been in str8.  i had nothin' to base any desicions on.  i was so lost, so confused that out of some desperate necessity i adopted yet another personality.  Slowly and by degrees i adopted this kind of a "belligerent red-neck drunken" personality.  A kind of prosthetic soul to replace the one i had lost in str8. It was like this character that i could slip into.  It was my desperately sick and diseased attempt to try and find a way to somehow relate to the world again; to try to respond to a joke, to understand the context of some conversation, to be able to smile at a stranger, to have some reference point in life by which to make a desicion. Over the course of about 10 months this character came to dominate my personality, which in my vulnerable mental state was easy for it to do.  

The scariest moment of my life was the moment of realization that came to me about 18 months out of str8 as i stood alone on the balcony of my apartment and acknowledged to myself that i was not alone, but had developed more than one personality.  As i stood there alone i realized that my "real self" was tryin' to resolve some argument with this "red-neck" personality which i had developed as a form of protection.  i distinctly remember the feelin' of standin' there alone but with 2 different people, each inside of me !! i was terrified.

From that night on i distanced myself from that "red-neck" personality.  i began the long search to truly recover my health; to find myself.  i hitch hiked all around the country and lived as a transient for years in an attempt to heal my own wounds.  In time i came to understand all this as the dynamics of my own ego and my sufferin' is far less now than it was.  

Str8 really, really fucked me up.  Does anyone know what i mean ?? Has anyone else ever experienced this disease ??  Can anyone relate to havin' so much anxiety ??  So much confusion and pain ??

Fuck str8.  Fuck all authority.  [ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-08-29 22:09 ][ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-08-29 22:18 ]

139
The Seed Discussion Forum / "Take over the world raps" ??
« on: August 29, 2005, 04:42:00 PM »
i was in str8, but i heard that in the seed that there were "take over the world" raps.  Does anyone remember these raps ?? What were they like ??  i am curious.

140
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Anonymous posting
« on: August 25, 2005, 10:05:00 PM »
What's with all the anonymous posting ??  i mean as starry-eyed pirate my identity is still a mystery.  No one knows who i really am unless i tell them.  This would be a far richer discussion if i knew the difference between one anon and the next.  If people owned their words we could form stronger relationships.  Often times bein' on this board is like sittin' in a room full of faceless ventrilliquists.

Peace to all.

141
Does anyone know of any legitimate, scientific, long term studies concernin' the effects of str8 on former clients ??  Like what percentage of former clients have sustained long term psychological damage, etc. ??

Peace.

142
For years i have wanted to get hold of my file.  i'm sure it must be 3" thick.  i remember once i even got Mr. Kelleher to agree to give me my file if and when i ever graduated.  He shook my hand and told me when i graduated he would give it to me.  This turned out to be just another lie.  Maybe all the files have been destroyed but i was readin' on some thread somewhere how someone got a hold of their file.  i asked my therapist if she could get a hold of it for me and she told me that i would be better off requestin' it myself. i was in the springfield, VA program, which is now closed(praise jah) so who would i contact in order to request my file ??

Peace.

143
How was it ??  How many people were there ??  What did you guys do ??  Did it even happen ??  
Somebody fill me in.

144
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / FUCK STR8
« on: August 14, 2005, 02:37:00 AM »
FUCK STR8, the muther fuckers....   ...FUCK STR8.

"It is not those who can inflict the most, but those who can suffer the most who will conquer."
 
- Terence MacSwiney, Lord mayor of Cork(1879-1920) who was arrested by the British and sent to Brixton jail where he died after a 73 day hunger strike protesting the British occupation of Ireland.

"The mighty God is a livin' man." - Rastafarian sayin'

 :skull:  :skull:  :skull:

145
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Whats ....
« on: August 13, 2005, 10:33:00 PM »
Whats up you muther fuckers.  Tell me a story.

 i remeber this time when i was arrested by the POH-LEEse. The muther fuckin' authorities who are slaves of the commonwealth government. See, at the time i was a-runnin from the muther-fuckin infamous institution, known as straight inc.  

Now which story do you wanna hear  ??  The end of the first one, which i already been into or a new one altogether about the time i was charged with Grand theft auto  ??  They're both good  ?? ...

146
i just got off the phone with my ol' friend, Fred Herring.  i hadn't spoke to him in almost 20 years !! He, like the rest of us, has had his share of trouble in life but is none the less doin' just fine.  He doesn't have internet access and asked me if i would put the word out that he is lookin' for Sh%&non H_nt from the Springfield program.  Shannon if you get this message send me a p.m. and i will give you the contact info for Fred.

- starry-eyed pirate[ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-09-09 21:38 ]

147
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / The last thing i ever wanted to be.
« on: August 07, 2005, 05:46:00 PM »
i was just over on the alumni site, checkin' it out and lookin' for people that i know.  At first that site just felt a little strange to me but after about 2 hours of lookin' around over there an overwhelming feeling of disgust began to take hold of me.  i began to feel sick in my heart as i began to realize that by registering myself as an alumni i was identifying myself as the very rapists and kidnappers who tortured and imprisoned me for 2 years of my life.  When i accepted the title of alumni a very subtle shift began to take place within my consciousness and some kind of a dichotomy began to arise.  i suddenly felt as if i was betrayin' myself and my friends who have died.

Str8 stole so much from me. Took me away from my brother and sister.  Turned my parents against me.  Took me away from my friends and my girlfriend.  Robbed me of my rights, especially my right to self-determination, and then used those stolen rights to force changes in my behavior and thought patterns through blackmail.  They took me out of the world just when i should have been finding my place in it.  They cut out my tongue and made me speechless.  They put me in chains and stripped my body and mind naked.  They raped my concsiousness daily and inflicted pain on me the likes of which i have not known before or since. Pain that i still feel now.  Pain that never ends. They wanted to erase me from the world.  They wanted to destroy me utterly.  i have no doubt that they would have killed me if they could have gotten away with it.  They did kill my friends.  i will never forget you Steve Mathews, you taught me so much.  They hunted me as if i were less than human.  They took my dignity and my integrity.  They made me ugly and weak, because they feared my beauty and strength.  

Sometimes the posts on this forum get really lame, with all the bickerin' and small time little insult wars 'n' such but i see now where the real fighters are.  i see now where the real struggle is.  You people are all beautiful to me.  i am ashamed that i even joined that yahoo group if only for 2 days.  i have since quit that site forever.  i am not an alumni.  i am a cop-out. The last thing i ever wanted to be was a str8 inc. alumni. " Like Daniel out of the lions' den" (Bob Marley) i'm a survivor.

Fuck str8.  Fuck all authority.  God is in each of us.  We are creation itself. The soul of the Sun is in the marrow of our bones.  

Peace.

 - starry-eyed pirate :skull:  :skull:   :skull:  

_________________
If you would have justice in this world, then begin to see that a human being is not a means to some end.  People are not commodities.  When human beings are just to one another government becomes obsolete and real freedom is born; SPIRITUAL ANARCHY.

148
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / how i copped out off 1st phase
« on: August 03, 2005, 01:01:00 AM »
It was my 64th day in the VA program.  i was 16 at the time. i had already been puttin' in for T 'n' R for so long and only ever gettin' talk, that i began to suspect that staff was way more aware of me than i realized, because, of course my sole motive for wanting to advance in the program was so i could split 1st chance i got. i felt that my continued failed attempts to earn T 'n' R would shortly provoke the groups' suspicions that i was, uh, ... you know... uh,... "full of shit", or somethin'.  i was under a lot of pressure. i felt that i had to split before i drew more heat.  

The host-home which i had been assigned to was only about 15 miles from my own home in Fairfax.  That night then as the Host-dad pulled into the driveway of his home i knew my time had come. 64 days of captivity was more than enough for me. So as the butterflies churned my stomache i mentally prepared myself as best i could.  i steeled my resolve to run as soon as the side door of that ol' V.W. bus slid open.  My oldcomer had me by the beltloop and by the back of my blue jeans(you know it wasn't just the beltloop)as we prepared to go from the vehicle into the house.  As soon as that door slid open, i mean the instant that there was enough room for me to get through the door, i flew. i mean i burst through that openin' with everything i had.  Like a fullback on 4th and goal, when his team is down by 6 and there is no time on the clock, only with more at stake and i wasn't gettin' paid.  i never even tried to knock his hand off of my beltloop, as i figured that would be a difficult and cumbersome maneuver.  Instead i put all of my hope in the element of surprise and in the swiftness of my action.  i jumped out of that van and hit the ground runnin' as hard as i ever ran in my life.  My oldcomer was taken completely by surprise and immediately lost his hold of me.

It was such a dark night and i was so completely unfamilliar with the terrain that i quickly lost track of the horizon and could only navigate for a little ways before i ran right down into the paved street, as if it had been a wall.  i tore up my knees and elbows, all, pretty good in the fall.  As i got to my feet and tried to see where i was, one of my oldcomers caught up to me.  Standing in the street we began to exchange violent, roundhouse swings at one another.  Our swings were so wild and confused that neither of us could hit the other.  It was a desperate scene. In a few moments though i came to my senses and realized that he was not even comin' close to hitting me and that if i continued to be distracted by him the other oldcomer would arrive to help him shortly, and i would be outnumbered.  i decided to just take off runnin' again.  i ran down a very dark street.  It was a dead end.  i ran down the driveway of some middle class home and jumped over a 3 'n' a half foot high chain link fence. In my hurry to elude my persuer i left even more flesh and blood on the top of that fence. i was runnin' blind in the darkness.  He was still chasin' me.  On the other side of the fence, i continued to run.  i was runnin' through the back yard when i suddenly realized that i was sinkin' !! :scared: .  i had been runnin' so fast and hard that i ran half way across a covered, in-ground swimmin' pool before i even noticed. Half-way across the pool i had to start swimmin'.  i was certain that at that point i had lost my advantage.  The pool had slowed me down so much that i fully expected to be lookin' up at my nemisis by the time i reached the other side.  It was then that i heard a joyful sound.  It was the sound of that oldcomer of mine makin' the same mistake as me, and now he was splashin' around in the drink as well.  By the time he fell in, though, the pool cover was mostly submerged and he was unable to take advantage of the slight support that it had given me, to run across any of it :lol: !! (always retreat over rough terrain or in this case the lack there of). My hope was re-newed and i climbed up out of the pool and ran directly into the dark safety of the woods.  

About 100' into the woods i leaned up tight against a big tree. i waited, drippin' wet, and tried to be silent as my head pounded and my body bled and my lungs ached. After a while when it seemed that my old comer had given up the chase, i began to make my way through the woods.  i came to some kind of a gravel yard or somethin'.  i laid down on a pile of gravel and rested for maybe 15 minutes and stared up at the sky until my poundin' head ache was finally gone and i could breathe normally again.

i came out of the woods, i found out later, just down the street from the host-home i had just flown from.  i knew i had to find a phone fast so i could call my so-called "druggie girlfriend" and try to get a ride outta there as soon as possible.  i knocked on the door of the first house i came to.  Some nice ol' folks answered the door and asked if i was o.k.  It was obvious to them, i'm sure, that i wasn't, that something had happened to me, because i was all wet and my clothes were all torn and bloody.  i lied to them.  i told them that i had been invited to a party by some people i had just met recently, but when i got to the party i found out that i had been set up, and the people who i thought were my new friends jumped me.  i knew i couldn 't tell them the truth: that i had just escaped from str8.  i just couldn't take the risk that they might call the cops or whatever.  i asked to use their phone, which they graciously consented to.  i called Mindy(my so-called "druggie girlfriend") and told her some cryptically encoded story, full of metaphors 'n' such, hopin' not to arouse to much suspicion among the sweet ol' couple, who were listenin' intently to my phone conversation and at the same time hopin' that Mindy would be smart enough to interpret what i was tellin' her correctly. She had known about str8, and i figured that my sudden disappearance 64 days earlier may have clued her in as to what had happened to me and where i had been.  At least that was my hope; that she would understand.  i hung up the phone and sat down at the ol' couples' kitchen table.  They were nice people and gave me cookies and soda to drink.  After a few minutes i thanked them for their generous hospitality and told them i would wait outside for my ride.  i was too paranoid to wait inside their home.  i preferred to wait in the open space under the protection of darkness.  i stepped off of their front porch and laid down in the bushes beside their house and watched the road for signs of Mindys' car.  After maybe 15 minutes she showed up.  However my relief at the sight of her car was short-lived.  i had asked her over the phone to come alone but as i ran to the car and opened up the passenger side door i saw Mindy in the passenger seat and her mom behind the wheel !!  i had to play it cool.  Mindys' mother was suspicious.  Mindy moved to the back seat in order to talk with me as her mom drove down the road.  It was incredibly awkward tryin' to talk to Mindy.  After just 64 days in the program my vocabulary had been radically altered, the cadence in my speech had changed, my mannerisms were different.  i remember i tried to use some "druggie slang", which were words like "cool" or "rad" and the like,  but they came out so forced and strange that Mindy just laughed at me.  It was a very unnerving experience, even scary to be honest.  i felt as if i had been the victim of some demented experiment in personality transplant or something.  And hadn't i been ?!

At that point Mindys' mother began to question me, asking me things like where i had been and stuff like that. i don't remember exactly what i told her, but i know it wasn't the truth.  i just made up some story or somethin'.  She didn't believe me.  Mindys' mom knew my parents and knew where i lived and insisted on takin' me to my parents house.  i had no choice but to continue to play it cool.  As she approached my parents house i convinced her to drop me off 2 houses down, by insisting that my neighbors house was actually mine.  i got out of the car and calmly walked to the side door of the garage and pretended to go in.  Then i took off runnin' hard and fast through the night again.  For the next 2 days i stayed on the move, knowing that i would be hunted.  Knowing that if i sat still that they would zero in on me, and take me back to that mind-rape-brainwash private prison for children.  (Images of Pinnochio on that donkey island come to mind).  i covered a lot of ground on foot and stayed out of public view as much as possible.  

i was returned to the program 2 days later by 7-steppers and ex-staff who literally kidnapped me and threw me into their car from in front of a shoppin' center across from Woodson high school.  

FUCK STR8.  FUCK ALL AUTHORITY.  THE MIGHTY GOD IS A LIVIN' MAN.[ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-08-02 22:10 ][ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-08-03 19:01 ][ This Message was edited by: starry-eyed pirate on 2005-08-03 19:08 ]

149
i got a little story to tell ya'll if you'll lend me your ear, i will try not to sing out of key. i do remember this time at the springfield str8, probably about 1986 or so, i was on 1st phase(yeah, i know i spent a lot of time on 1st phase) and it was Saturday night. There was some kind of a vibe in the air that instead of the usual intense brainwash/rape that we might get to have one of those, oh what were they called? Those Saturday night fun raps, where people would do skits and play guitar 'n' all, or maybe see a movie or somethin' light and different just to keep the group from goin' completely insane.We only got to have raps like that about every 2 or 3 months or so. Ya'll know what i'm talkin' 'bout?
Anyhow, group was moved into the carpet room and we all sat down indian style on the floor with our backs str8, our mouths shut and our eyes looking str8 ahead(what an image).  Rich Molineaux(sp) was on staff by then and i guess he had picked out what he thought would be an appropriate film for drug addicted juvenile delinquents who had issues with authority. i don't really know what he was thinkin' but the film he chose to play for all us punks in group was "Midnight Express"(rated R). Yeah, it's true. That night while i was on 1st phase i actually watched the film "Midnight Express"(unedited) in the building, in group.
If you've ever seen the film you know that it's the true story of an American man who gets caught tryin' to smuggle like all these bricks of hash or opium or somethin' which were all taped to his body, out of Turkey on a commercial flight to the U.S. in like 1971 or thereabouts.  So the cat gets arrested and ends up doin' all this time in a Turkish prison, where all kinds of craziness is a-goin' on. Certain scenes inside the prison show inmates smokin' hash and opium out of water pipes and such. The highlight of the film at least for me at that time, was the scene in which our hero sits behind a glass partition with a phone and waits to talk to his girlfriend. By this time in the film the struggle to free our hero from the Turkish authorities, through the efforts of the U.S. consulate is goin' nowhere and indeed things are beginning to look grim. She enters the visitation booth and sits down opposite her desperate drug smuggelin' boyfriend on the other side of the glass and picks up the phone. i don't remember how the conversation began but i do remember that it deteriorated swiftly as our hero begged his girlfriend to show him her beautiful tits, which she did. Our hero then begins to stroke himself off under the desk which he is seated at. It is indeed a desperate scene.  The woman presses her breasts up against the glass as tears run down her cheeks. It was quite a scene to take in especially if you were a guy who wasn't supposed to even look at girls and yet here we were watchin' all this in group! Yeah i remember bein' so deprived of female companionship that a stiff breeze blowin' thru the parkin' lot could get me up.(shakin' my head in disbelief). At the end of the film our hero kills the warden in a fist fight, puts on his uniform and walks right out the prison gate. It was like everything a 1st phaser shouldn't see: sex, drugs, and victory over imprisonment. What a great flick. To this day one of my all-time favorite movies.
When it was all over i guess exec. staff made Rich M. apologize to the group for making everyone feel weak (o shit!)oh man, how funny, heh heh.
Or was there some kind of a secret messege that Rich M. was tryin' to convey? i don't know, but i wonder.
Anyway that is just a little story that i thought might be of some interest to some of you. Thanks for listening. i enjoyed the tellin'.
And oh yeah, i almost forgot: Fuck Str8, Fuck all authority. Let love and compassion be our light. ::rainbow::
Spiritual Anarchy!!

150
Uh... i was just jumpin' 'roun' checkin' out ol' posts 'n' such when i noticed that some of the people i' been lookin' for have posted here in the not too distant past. John Kalland i'm talkin' 'bout you ol' friend. Where the hell in Tarnation are ya? Send me a p.m. or sumfin'. Any other survivors from springfield '85-'87, please contact me by private messege. Fred and Carla i tried to e-mail both of you like about a few months ago but i guess i didn't get through. Connie S. Where are you? Nick D.?
- t.e. ::rainbow::

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