The Calamity of a Fool

My father used to tell me the bible told us we weren’t supposed to call anyone a fool. Well, I’m pretty sure if someone acts foolish, they may be considered a fool.

We lived in our house on Delaware Lane for the first four years of my life. My father had full reign to exercise his demonic desires of pedophilia whenever he wanted. It was an absolute free for all, and I do mean all.

My dad, my mother and their friend, Craig.

Dad ran the house like it was a brothel. Instead of women on the menu, it was children. His own children.

Just because you can, does it mean you should?

There were no rules in our house other than the rules my father designed. How he elicited my mother and his friend to join in, I will never know, but their hearts must have been bent in the same direction as his – bent on foolery.

Is there any wisdom in treating your children with such disdain? Is there any wisdom in giving into any pleasure your penis desires?

I think not. And, what’s the opposite of wisdom?

The slavery my father demanded of his children was unquenchable. You could never give enough to his wicked desires. I cannot recall how many times I was raped in that house nor do I want to, but I can tell that it felt constant, unrelenting and that it would never end.

Foolishness, just plain wicked foolishness.

Oh, but – isn’t there a wise plan in there somewhere? A plan to disable the participants? Absolutely there is!

The schemes of their evil left me severely damaged, wounded and barely able to stand. To heal: I would have to find some kind of strength; a belief that I mattered; and find a voice that had been leeched out of me long ago.

Was it all foolishness?

It seems to me the plans of this evil were very well laid out. Quite intentional, as a matter of fact. The instinct of an abuser carefully instructs those they plan to take everything from. In full detail their plans bloom. These perpetrators are not dumb but quite bright.

In my father’s case, he was so smart he got away with murder.

It takes great skill to get away with such mayhem in life. Every abuser on the planet has spent dedicated time plotting their journey, executing their abusive plans with cohesion to their victims in precise measurements.

These pedophiles show skill in their craft.

I am convinced that nothing but calamity lives in their souls. Peace escapes them as they try to reason their way out of their lack of integrity and pitiful existence.

My full forgiveness they can have. That doesn’t stop the consequences of their choices. Their lives are living disasters.