User talk:PHofViennensis

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let people do what they want

stop being an asshole, you aren't the police of micronationalism. Gatekeepers smh

Flag of Wendatia.svg jonas | talk 20:32, 14 April 2021 (UTC)

Okay, let's restart this discussion where it should have beginned.
Good Morning, Mr Rhymer.
I hope you're well. I'm fine too, but you obviously don't care about it... Let's analyze what you wrote me recently...
"stop being an asshole, you aren't the police of micronationalism. Gatekeepers smh"
Before beginning my long comment (and I will thank you for reading it in its entirety, and if not, too bad), I would like to share with you a very personal impression: it seems that you did not read well the last sentence of my comment, namely : "Afterwards, it's not my business, I shouldn't judge anything on it". What does it means, according to you?
1. Asshole (according to the cambridge dictionary online) : "noun, mainly US offensive ; an unpleasant or stupid person".
=> Saying to a certain person that (s)he is stupid is a judgement. Normally, you can judge a person only if you are knowning them very well. A siou proverb say that : "Before judging someone, walk during three moons in their moccasins". I regret to tell you that you can't judge me, because you're aware of my existence since just two days... You can't insult someone you just saw on the street, who didn't know you and that you recognize for having an opinion about something. Have you tried it? Good luck if you want to...
2. "You aren't the police of micronationalism". In my case, I just give my opinion on this great subject of micronational warfare, which I find useless. Yes, I admit that I'm not the great teacher who punish his pupils, but I intervened in only ONE MicroWiki page, not on all of the encyclopaedia. Here too, you can't call me "the police of micronationalism", because I should have wrote a hundred of messages on all the Microwiki pages discussions. Also, I give this opinion in order to try to reason all of the micronationalists who are involving on this "event". A lot of micronationalists are doing their "jobs" without declaring wars and they are living it very well. As US residents, all of you (and that's curious, all the "soldiers" are at least 14-16 years old, so definitely not adults) were following the great example of Kevin Baugh, with his fictitious war with East Germany, because it's bringing you recognition or whatever-futile-thing-which-can-make-growing-your-egos. If a "Treaty against Micronational War" has been created, if the "Operation Electrolight" has come, if the general micronationalist opinion is against the notion of "micro-war", do you think it's for nothing? Be serious, nobody with some mature spirit will consider this war as "real" and "funny". Be honest, you're not knowning what "war" is really. Me neither, but I have enough acknowledgment to affirm that a real warfare isn't "funny" at all.
3. "smh". According to the french and the english wiktionary, it means : "So much hate" or "Scratching My Head". In this case, this is regarding as a "disapproval" or "disagreement".
a. If you were saying "smh" in order to express your disagreement, so I let you with this opinion, it's your absolute right.
b. But if you were saying "so much hate", let me tell you one good thing : you are accusing me to pouring my hatred on MicroWiki, just because I give a personal opinion... Wasn't it you who called me an "asshole", when you don't know me at all? Isn't this what we can call "pouring his hatred"?. Who is the must hateful, between you and me?
Please believe me. In life, you are not doing what you want, even in US country, the "land of all excesses". My approach was to reason the stubborn micronationalists who believe that parodying real war-hungry or "normal" heads of state means behaving and acting like them (only in public appearance obsviously). This is a real mistake, because, first of all, this is not the purpose behind micronationalism. Secondly, remember that you are on the Internet. Even if you use pseudonyms or undertake ways to "hide" yourself, everything that is said about you on the Internet will be used against you or for you. It will not be forget or erased.
Also, yes, I was a bit rude, but I just share my opinion. Now, I will let you all make "what you want". But it wouldn't be avoided of consequences. I'm not threatening you, an ocean is separating us, I can't do anything.
Now, thanks you for reading me. Mr Rhymer, I wish you all the best.
Have a nice day!
Remus Peroni.
holy fuck, go outside --UDCTC logo.svgBrian Griffin.png Cole bairjjf!!1! Brian Griffin.png bill nye still hasnt replied to me on twitter please reply here bill nye  cole have a life challenge Flag of the Federal Union of Wegmat.svg 18:41, 16 April 2021 (UTC)
"If a "Treaty against Micronational War" has been created, if the "Operation Electrolight" has come, if the general micronationalist opinion is against the notion of "micro-war", do you think it's for nothing? Be serious, nobody with some mature spirit will consider this war as "real" and "funny"."
Dude, that shit was all made like 10 years ago. Communities are fluid, standards can change at any time. Both sides in the war have goals.
"this is not the purpose behind micronationalism."
that feeling when people tell you how to do your nation roleplay
im gonna leave it here. Flag of Wendatia.svg jonas | talk 22:06, 16 April 2021 (UTC)
how about you let people have their fun?? NewFlagCaelesta.png ConnieJulie 22:25, 16 April 2021 (UTC)
Jesus christ I will get Remus and declare war on that son of a bitch, and I can't take it anymore apart from the memes Ezri A. 23:14, 16 April 2021 (UTC)
holy fuck the formatting here is painful Yellow octagram.pngPeter Griffin.png leon!!!!! Peter Griffin.png talk to me please i have no social interaction  l-l-lookies at what i did!!!!!!! Yellow octagram.png 23:23, 16 April 2021 (UTC)
the next Grand Theft Auto V affair Jaydenfromcanada (talk) | Sent from Mail for Windows 10  these signature styles are terrible 
| 00:05, 17 April 2021 (UTC)
I feel like jumping off the nearest cliff after reading this. Flag of Australis.svgDaniel HamiltonEnquiriesMy Work 00:37, 17 April 2021 (UTC)
Hey Siri find the nearest bridge to my location Atiera flag.svg] Liam Munroe  My Talk Page  Contribs  00:38, 17 April 2021 (UTC)
I would say to get a life, but this guy clearly has one that he's wasting David Augustus I of Monmark (talk) 00:44, 17 April 2021 (UTC)

Please chill out everybody

Wow! It would seem that I am the victim of a virtual lynching allowed thanks to Master Wegmat, the great executioner-in-chief, known for calling me a "pussy", a word I obviously don't understand, since I don't care for unnecessary provocations. However, I feel like answering you, because I am a "no-life", obviously... By the way, it's quite paradoxical to be called a "no-life" by people between 13 and 16 years old who probably spend most of their free time on Discord and MicroWiki... But let's assume that the world is turning upside down and that it's the kids who teach their elders how to live their lives, eh?

To Cole.B : I didn't wait for your proposal to do it, you know... But thank you for doing it anyway, I felt that something was missing in my life... A life that you seem to know very well, don't you?

To Mr Rhymer : Thanks you for your reply. This "shit", as you're writing it, was made like 10 years ago, yes, but I hope you are not one of those people who think that the past (especially what does not suit you) and its lessons should be forgotten... I'm not saying that you should be fixed on it, but that you should know not to repeat your mistakes, so it implies not to forget it... Finally, if you think that micronationalism should be reduced to a simple "roleplay", that's your right. I don't judge that.

To Mlle. Julie : Have I decided to prevent my peers from doing what they want at all costs? No, you think so. I just gived my opinion, perhaps in a rough way. After sending my personal reaction, I did not stop the editions of the page that Mr. Wegmat maintains, nor the international reactions, nor the discussions related to the page. Tell me if I really did, I am waiting for your proof... I just made you hate me because I don't think like you. It's a bit harsh to get to this point, don't you think? As a final point, I have not prevented you from knowing that I consider you to be a woman, since you have decided that you are one...

To Ezri A : Wow...Reading your MicroWiki page, I see that you're claiming to be an actual christian... Well! Your sentence "Jesus Christ, I will get Remus and declare war on that son of a bitch, and I can't take it anymore apart from the memes" appears to be a very unchristian sentence, tell me... On the subject of "loving one another" as Christ has loved us, I see that you are very far from it, if not too far... How about reading this verse? "Remember this, my dear brothers: everyone should be quick to listen, but slow to speak and slow to become angry; for an angry man does not do what is right in God's eyes. Therefore, reject everything that defiles and all the excesses of wickedness." (James, Chp. 1 - 19-21) Apart from that, if you really want to find me and declare war on me, as you say...then I wish you well in advance in doing so. However, I am afraid that a 13 year old like you cannot be very credible, in France as well as in the USA... But I consider this sentence as a manifestation of your autism, so I forgive you your boldness ;-) Oh! Before I forget... Invoking the name of the son of God in vain (let's be serious, he wouldn't help you in your attempt to rape me, for example) is a serious sin... Consider confessing one day, or praying to God, the father of us both, to give you forgiveness, if you are really sincere in your approach...

To Leon Montan : You are right, but what do you want? I don't know much about Wiki editing and I'm not interested, you see, because I have a life, contrary to what some people dare to falsely claim.

To Jaydenfromcanada : haha good one. I'm sure that it would be a great honor to be included in an unreal event! It would be useless but funny haha...

To Daniel Hamilton and Liam Munroe : I want to stop you from doing it, but after all, you're doing what you want, don't you? I've been accused of stopping people from doing what they want to do, so just jump in from wherever you want. As long as it would probably be fun and unnecessary, it would be stupid to stop you... Don't you think?

To David Augustus I of Monmark : My reaction to such predictable, classic and completely paradoxical responses has already been made. But just for you, I'll give a little pictorial explanation, that will help you understand better... Have you ever answered an email? I hope so... Or even better... How long does it take you to chat with friends by SMS, on Discord or whatever other social network? For example, this first paragraph (the one you all spat at as if it was the last piece of shit to be rejected) took me fifteen minutes to write. What's a quarter of an hour in a lifetime? Can you tell me? And then, I feel like giving you the same kind of answers as Mr Ambriz. You who are an Orthodox Christian, here's a biblical verse that I would like you to remember. As for understanding it, I count on your Christian sensitivity... "What is the matter with you if you look at the mote that is in your brother's eye? And the beam in your own eye, you don't notice it! Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the mote out of your eye, and now the beam is in your eye? Hypocrite, first remove the beam from your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the mote from your brother's eye. "(Mt 7:3-4). You know, fraternal correction exists in Christianity. You just have to help your neighbour so that he does not fall into sin. And I try to do that, even if I'm not perfect, even if I don't know you and even if I'm a sinner myself. The important thing is to reproduce the example of Christ in those around you.

Thank you for reading me, for those who give to my simple opinion. I enjoyed writing all of those paragraphs, it really filled my boredom and my no-life existence. And I hope it has done the same for you ;-) More seriously, if you had been really wise, you would have ignored me and you wouldn't have found it entertaining to want to lynch me at every turn, as 13 to 16 year olds would have done. In fact, it was you who wasted my time with your slander and ranting about me. I hope you now understand why I wrote all this to you. In the end, we are all at fault, I should have ignored you too, eh? Well, no, my stubborn nature, mixed with this desire for "brotherly correction", prevented me from doing so. Now, do what you want, answer me or don't answer me (it would be wiser to do so), in any case, I have already understood that you have the habit of wanting to stone all those who don't think like you. Wow! What a great spirit of diplomacy you have there, tell me... Diplomacy, by the way, is not limited to micronational activities, but also to the relationships you have with complete strangers. But I'll stop my boring lecture here, you have other things to do than reading this crap. May God forgive us all for this hatred we send to each other... See you again, dear friends!

Babycry.gif This you? Atiera flag.svg] Liam Munroe  My Talk Page  Contribs  19:11, 18 April 2021 (UTC)


Oh yes, thank you, it's me when I was 1 year old! Haha thanks for finding this video, I've been looking for it for a long time!

If you could do me another favour, I'm looking for a video of me at 6 years old when I was eating a sponge, would you like to find it for me? You would be very nice, thank you ^^ User:PHofViennensis 18/04/2021, 21:19 (UTC)

You just got coconut mall'd Flag of Australis.svgDaniel HamiltonEnquiriesMy Work 19:15, 18 April 2021 (UTC)


Yep, if you say so, it really happened to me. Sad huh? I'm in the emergency room now, It will take me a year to be cured. User:PHofViennensis 18/04/2021, 21:22 (UTC)


Mr.Liam, thank you for that Gut-wrenching comment that you have put in front of me, but for now, I won't be having a long discussion about my religion, after all, it just infuriated me since my Autism makes me want to force myself to make long and confusing problems and sentences that make me want to say "why the hell have I done" now I know that offended me and wanted me to go back to the original text and read the fuck out it again, I'm not guilty of making that comment or even have a "You caught me!" mood, no! I don't think that Jesus is going to come at my door and send me to hell, No! I don't think that I just say it if it's like a quote from a Tv or a Movie, but thank you for saying since I have Autism I must of Missunderstanded you or Quote on quote "manifestation" thank you for forgiving my boldness to me, now I predict that you will reply with me of that Baby crying gif or "Holy shit go outside" meme, but for now, take a damn deep breath and get the fuck out of this talk page but for now, goodbye Ezri A. 22:08, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

WhatWhatWhatWhatWhat

WhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhat Flag of Australis.svgDaniel HamiltonEnquiriesMy Work 19:07, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

I agree, based and redpilled NewFlagCaelesta.png ConnieJulie 19:19, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

Why

Why is this all a thing? --𝙷𝙸𝙼 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙸 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚢𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚊Flag of Cycoldia Real.svg (𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔) 19:49, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

@Summi Imperatoris: Why are you gay.jpg Yellow octagram.pngPeter Griffin.png leon!!!!! Peter Griffin.png talk to me please i have no social interaction  l-l-lookies at what i did!!!!!!! Yellow octagram.png 19:54, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

I absolutely don't know why... I just gived a single comment and opinion about micronational warfare (which I totally disagree), and some people want to stone me because I supposedly insulted the honour and dignity of micronational super-soldiers by criticising their sacrosanct right to wage "war". And I also don't understand why Mr. Montan abuses his right to post memes on other users' discussion pages when he knows very well that we are not on his Bobist Discord... User:PHofViennensis 22:11, 18 April 2021 (UTC)

hi

hi FAAAAASSSSTTTTTTTTT.gif] ✪ dalek ✪  My Talk Page  Contribs  21:16 PM, April 18, 2021

You

Waouh, faire un copier-collé du récit d'un odieux criminel pour tenter de me provoquer en me comparant à lui, voilà qui est très intelligent et original de votre part ! Je ne m'attendais pas à ce que vous réussissiez un tel exploit, Monsieur Koehler ! C'est tellement beau, votre génie me fait pleurer ! Cela dit, vous qui êtes censé être administrateur, vous vous trouvez exemplaire, en me servant sur un plateau d'argent votre provocation baclée ? Allons, soyez un peu plus mature et indépendant, ne comptez pas sur Elliott Rodger pour vous forger une opinion personnelle. Parce que ça risque de tourner mal pour vous, si vous continuez ainsi... Maintenant, essayez donc de traduire tout seul comme un grand, sans aide extérieure, sans même Google Traduction, la phrase que je viens de vous écrire, vous qui revendiquer connaître si bien la langue française. Ça peut être une nouvelle preuve de votre intelligence démesurée, qui sait ? User:PHofViennensis 09:24, 19 April 2021 (UTC)

die

Loul

Humanity… All of my suffering on this world has been at the hands of humanity, particularly women. It has made me realize just how brutal and twisted humanity is as a species. All I ever wanted was to fit in and live a happy life amongst humanity, but I was cast out and rejected, forced to endure an existence of loneliness and insignificance, all because the females of the human species were incapable of seeing the value in me. This is the story of how I, Elliot Rodger, came to be. This is the story of my entire life. It is a dark story of sadness, anger, and hatred. It is a story of a war against cruel injustice. In this magnificent story, I will disclose every single detail about my life, every single significant experience that I have pulled from my superior memory, as well as how those experiences have shaped my views of the world. This tragedy did not have to happen. I didn’t want things to turn out this way, but humanity forced my hand, and this story will explain why. My life didn’t start out dark and twisted. I started out as a happy and blissful child, living my life to the fullest in a world I thought was good and pure… Part One A Blissful Beginning Age 0-5 On the morning of July 24th, 1991, in a London hospital, I was born. I breathed in the first breath of life as I entered this world, weighing only 5.4 pounds. My parents must have been filled with happiness and pride that day. They had just witnessed the birth of their first child, and they named me Elliot Oliver Robertson Rodger. I was born to young parents. My father, Peter Rodger, was only 26 when he impregnated my mother, Chin, who was 30. Peter is of British descent, hailing from the prestigious Rodger family; a family that was once part of the wealthy upper classes before they lost all of their fortune during the Great Depression. My father’s father, George Rodger, was a renowned photojournalist who had taken very famous photographs during the Second World War, though he failed to reacquire the family’s lost fortune. My mother is of Chinese descent. She was born in Malaysia, and moved to England at a young age to work as a nurse on several film sets, where she became friends with very important individuals in the film industry, including George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. She even dated George Lucas for a short time. My mother and father had been married for a couple of years before my mother became pregnant with me. In fact, her pregnancy was an accident. She had been taking pills to prevent pregnancy, but when she visited my father on one of his film sets, she fell ill and the medication she took for that illness thwarted the effect of the anti-pregnancy pills, and so their lovemaking during this period resulted in my life. Only a couple of months after my birth, I went on my first vacation. My parents took me on a boat to France. I was already a traveler! Of course, I have no memories of this trip. My mother said that I cried a lot. At the time that I was born, my mother and father were living in a house in London, but shortly after my birth they decided to move to the countryside. We moved to a large house made of red brick in the county of Sussex, with vast grass fields surrounding it. The house even had a name: The Old Rectory. This was where I spent my early childhood, the first five years of my life, and it was beautiful. The memories I have of this period are only memories of happiness and bliss. My father was a professional photographer at the time, just in the stage of becoming a director. My mother gave up her nursing career to stay at home and look after me. My grandma on my mother’s side, who I would call Ah Mah, moved in with us to help out my mother. I would spend a lot of time with Ah Mah during these years. This was a time of discovery, excitement, and fun. I had just entered this new world, and I knew nothing of the pain it would bring me later on. I enjoyed life with innocent bliss. I can remember playing in the fields and going on long walks with Ah Mah to pick berries. She would always warn me not to touch the stinging nettles that sometimes grew in our fields, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I got stung a few times. There was a swing in the back of our yard, which I had many good times on. The first birthday I remember was my 3rd birthday. My parents threw a party for me in our field. I had a helicopter birthday cake. I can remember one of my friend’s parents cutting off the first piece and giving it to my friend. I threw a tantrum because I was expecting to get the first piece… It was my birthday after all. My father bought me a toy tractor that I could ride around in, and I would play with it all the time after that. Sometime after my 3rd birthday, we all went on a vacation to Malaysia, my mother’s home country. I have only flashes of memory of that vacation. I enjoyed it very much. We visited a few of my mother’s relatives. For preschool, I was enrolled at Dorsett House, an upscale all-boys private school in the countryside, near where we lived. I was forced to wear a uniform, which I hated because I had to wear uncomfortable socks up to my knees. I was very nervous and I cried on my first day there. I can remember two friends I made by name, George and David. I would always play in the sandpit with them. I didn’t like school at Dorsett House very much. I found the rules to be too strict. My least favorite part of it was the football sessions. I never understood the game and I could never keep up with the other boys in the field, so I always stood by the goal-keeper and pretended to be the “second goal- keeper”. My favorite part was playing in the woods after lunch. There was a particular climbing structure that I had a lot of fun with. My preschool class once went on a field trip to the park, where I had the misfortune of getting lost. As my class was eating lunch, I ventured off to another area of the park, and when I returned, my class had moved on. I remember panicking and asking strangers for help. It was a terrifying experience for me. I was eventually led to my class by the strangers I talked to. I remember one funny incident when we were taking school pictures. They forced us to sit crosslegged, which I hated doing, so I absolutely refused to sit that way for the picture. The teachers eventually conceded, and the picture was taken with me being the only one sitting differently. The holiday season was the best part of the year for me. It must have been very cold in England, but I don’t remember the cold. I just remember how much fun I had. I was filled with joy when it started snowing outside – I loved playing in the snow. My father helped me build a snowman once. We would start with little snowballs, and roll them around our field until we formed the body, and then we would decorate it. During Christmas, my parents always had parties and gatherings. My father’s best friend, Christopher Bess, who was also my godfather, came to our house frequently. We would often go to my father’s parent’s house in Smarden, Kent. I would call my grandmother on my father’s side “grandma Jinx”. My memories of my grandfather, George Rodger, are faint; he had fallen very ill at this period. My father’s brother, uncle Jonny, had a son one year younger than me, who was named George, after my grandfather. I always played games with cousin George in grandma Jinx’s garden. The two of us got along well. On New Year’s Eve our neighbors once set up a bonfire party in the field next to our house. I was fascinated by how big the fire was. I had never seen anything like it, and it astounded my little mind. This was also the first time I saw fireworks. My father gave me one of those sparklers to play with, which I was enraptured by. There was one very special place that my father would often take me to. It was at the top of a range of beautiful rolling hills that I termed the “London Hills”, because I thought that London was on the other side of them. We would go there to fly kites. I can remember these experiences vividly. The hills were full of tall straw-like grass, and the weather was always windy – perfect for kite flying. It was a time of utmost happiness and joy for me. My father taught me to fly a kite by myself. The wind was so strong that I feared it would lift up my frail little body and carry me into the clouds. Once I got the hang of it, it was exhilarating. We would fly our kites together and run with the wind. I will never forget that place. My favorite childhood film was The Land Before Time. I used to watch that movie all the time with Ah Mah. It was about a baby dinosaur named Littlefoot who had just lost his mother and was journeying through a dangerous world to find the “Great Valley”, a land of prosperity and peace. I remember the feeling of utter sadness I felt during the scene when his mother died, and the triumphant and happy emotions that swept over me when he finally discovered the Great Valley, after going through all the hardship to get there. I watched this movie so many times that just thinking about it brings the emotions back. It was a big part of my childhood. Already a world traveler, I went on a trip to Spain with my parents and my parent’s friends Patrick and Lupe. It was the fourth country I’ve been to at such a young age. We stayed in an exquisite castle- like house that I believe was owned by a friend of ours. The house had a tower that I was extremely curious about. At one point, my parents and their friends ventured up to the top of it, but they made me stay below because I was too young. I was sorely disappointed. As they were climbing the tower I went outside to look at the cacti surrounding the house. These cacti also sparked my curiosity, and I foolishly decided to touch a cactus. I ended up getting cactus needles all over my hand, and it took a long time for my mother to remove them. Shortly after my trip to Spain, we went on another trip to Greece. We stayed at a hotel near the beach. It was very hot there. The weather was new to me, as I was used to the cold British climate. The trip to Greece was significant because during this time, my father received the news of the death of my grandfather George Rodger. He died of natural causes on my 4th birthday, at the age of 87. It was the first experience I had of the death of a close relative, and the first time I saw my father cry. My 4 year old self could not imagine my father ever crying, and so when I saw him cry that day, I knew how shaken he was. It was a very sad day for all of us. We immediately flew home. I believe that it was during the time after my 4th birthday that my father came to the decision to eventually move to the United States. As he was just becoming a director, he believed Los Angeles would offer more opportunities. We took a short trip to California to gain an initial look at it. I don’t remember much of this trip, but I do remember having a good time. At the age of 4, I, Elliot Rodger, had already been to six different countries. Who can claim that, eh? The United Kingdom, France, Spain, Greece, Malaysia, and the United States. It was also during this time that my mother became pregnant again. I was going to have a sibling. My parents decided to have another baby, this pregnancy being planned, so that I can have a sibling to grow up with. We later discovered it was going to be a girl. Before my 5th birthday, my mother went into labor to deliver the baby. I can remember the night vividly. I was very ill that night, a bad omen. I stayed at home with Ah Mah while my mother and father were at the hospital, and we watched movies together. I was fraught with anticipation the whole time. And then my parents came back late in the night, and with them they brought a little black-haired baby wrapped in a bundle. I had a baby sister, and they named her Georgia. I have no memories of what happened on my 5th birthday. Shortly after it, we were making plans to permanently move to the United States. The news excited me, but I was sad at the prospect of leaving my life in England behind. My father took a short trip to the U.S. by himself to scout out houses. I remember talking on the phone to him while he was there. He told me he found a very nice house for us to move to. I asked him if it had a swimming pool, and he said it did. This news made me very happy. And then the time came. We started packing everything up at the Old Rectory. On my last day at Dorsett House school, my teacher was giving all of us candies when my mother came to pick me up early. I said goodbye to all the friends I had there. That was the last time I saw them. My father was given the offer to buy the Old Rectory for about 400,000 Pounds (we were only renting it at the time), but he declined, a decision he would regret later on, as it would have been a worthy investment. I cried as we drove away from the Old Rectory. All the experiences I had there; playing in the fields, driving my toy tractor, tending to my garden, going on walks with Ah Mah, swinging on the swing; all those experiences were gone. I was about to start a new life. We boarded the plane and took off to America. Part 2 Growing up in America Age 5-9 The plane ride was like a dimension between worlds. I was about to enter a whole new world. A whole new life. But none of that went through my little 5 year old head at the time. I slept for most of the journey there, and I can remember looking out the window at the vast stretch of clouds below us. I wondered what it would be like to go down there and run along them as if they were a landmass, not thinking about the fact that I would fall right through! When we arrived in America, I was very tired. We collected our luggage and loaded them onto a new SUV that my father rented. The image of us driving out of the airport is still fresh in my mind. I often think of it as my first step into my new life in the U.S. I was so sleepy when we reached our new house that I didn’t even bother to look around yet. The house was partly furnished, and we already had a sofa and a television. The first thing we did was watch a movie. The movie was Independence Day, and I fell asleep at some parts, but managed to watch most of the movie. In the morning I was full of energy. I eagerly clamored up the stairs to search for my new room. I looked at all the rooms before singling out the one that I wanted as mine. When I told my mother about my decision, she told me that the room I picked was meant to be my sister Georgia’s room. I got a bit upset, but eventually settled for the room next to it. The house was quite big, with white walls and a beautiful backyard that led to a gated swimming pool area. It was located in an upscale part of Woodland Hills. The town of Woodland Hills has great significance in my life. It would be the town that I grow up in. A large portion of all my life experiences, good and bad, would take place in this town. I can recall the first time I said the name on my lips… Woodland Hills… my new hometown. Soon after settling into our lovely new home, we were disturbed by a problem typical of California: An earthquake. My mother woke me up in the middle of the night, and we all hid under the kitchen table. The earthquake actually turned out to be very small, with even smaller aftershocks following it, but I was still scared. Having never experienced an earthquake before, the only impression I had of earthquakes were the huge, land rupturing earthquakes I saw in The Land Before Time. After this experience, I began to see earthquakes as common, minor disturbances. And there I was, a young 5 year old boy who has so far lived a happy and joyful life about to embark on a new journey; the journey of growing up in the United States of America. I felt a surge of enthusiasm at the prospect. I now considered myself an “American kid”, as I told my parents. I got accustomed to all the American T.V. shows, and I started to adopt an American accent. I was looking forward to my new life. Soon enough, I was enrolled in school. My father did some extensive school-searching after our arrival, and he found a small private school on Shoup Avenue named Pinecrest. I was to attend kindergarten there. Pinecrest… My 5-year-old self at the time could not imagine how significant this place will eventually become for me. A great turning point of my life will eventually take place there, a tragic turn for the worse. But that will come later, in a darker chapter of my story, when I enter my preteen years. For now, I was a kindergartener who was enjoying life to the fullest. Kindergarten at Pinecrest didn’t turn out so well. I had a very unpleasant teacher who was impatient with how far behind I was in my schoolwork, as I had missed a couple months of school due to the move. During playtime, this teacher would keep me in the classroom to do extra work in order to catch up. My parents didn’t like this teacher, and one of their friends recommended another school for me, a private school nearby named Farm School; it was named after the farm that was attached to it. After only a couple of weeks at Pinecrest, my parents took me out of it, and I would not return again until I go there for Middle School six years later. My first day at farm school turned out to be a good start. I had two teachers, and they made an effort to introduce me to the other kids. There was one particular boy named Joey who they assigned to show me around. He was nice to me at first, but would soon turn out to be a rotten little prick who I would always get into fights with. He then became my greatest enemy at the school. The first real friend I made in the United States was a girl named Maddy Humphreys. Isn’t that ironic? The first friend I made in the United States was a girl! She was the first female friend I’ve ever had, and she would be the last. Maddy and I started playing together at Farm School, and eventually my parents became very good friends with her parents. Maddy’s father is the famous British musician Paul Humpreys, and her mother is named Maureen, though we would call her Mo. They had a nice house in Hidden Hills. Our families got together often to have barbeques and dinners. I was a 5 year old boy playing with a girl my own age like any normal boy would do. I was enjoying life in a world that I loved. I was happy, and completely oblivious of the fact that my future on this world would only turn to darkness and misery because of girls. This girl who was my friend, Maddy Humpreys, would eventually come to represent everything I hate and despise; everything that is against me, and everything that I’m against. I was playing innocently with this girl, in the manner that all children play. We even took baths together; it was the only time in my life that I would see a girl my age naked. When I think about the experiences I had during my friendship with her, it makes me think ominously of the fact that all children, boys and girls, start out the same. We all start out innocent, and we all start out together. Only through the experiences and circumstances of growing up do we drift apart, form allegiances, and face each other as enemies. That is when wars happen, and that is when the true nature of humanity rises to the surface. At this stage of my life, of course, my war hadn’t started yet, and it wouldn’t start for a long time. I was enjoying my life without a care in the world, not knowing that all of my joy is destined to turn to dust. My Kindergarten year at Farm School was filled with exciting, new experiences, all healthy for a growing boy. I had friends, I had playdates, I socialized with the other boys at school, despite getting into lots of conflicts with Joey. I only got into trouble once, over a quarrel with another boy during playtime, and I was sent to the principal’s office. Having never been in such trouble at school before, I recall being overcome with nervousness and fear, which caused me to cry for an hour. I especially enjoyed our arts and crafts time, and I loved it when our class would go on visits to the school’s farm. After a bright and joyous school year, it was time to graduate. I was swelled with pride as I wore my graduation cap at the ceremony. I loved that school very much, and I was sad to leave it. Kindergarten was over, and soon enough I would enter elementary school. My 6th birthday soon followed. My parents arranged a Disney-themed party at a play center that my mother had been taking me to frequently. I invited everyone from my Farm School class, all the boys and the girls, except for Joey. I deliberately omitted Joey as an act of revenge for being mean to me throughout the year, and I felt a sense of satisfaction in doing so. The party was cheerful, and there was a man dressed as Merlin to host the festivities. I sat at the end of the table during my birthday meal, wearing a wizard hat. As my cake was presented to me, I felt only elation and glee as I took in a breath and blew out my candles. Life was good. 6 Years Old My favorite part of the day during this jubilant period of my life was our afternoon trips to the park. Specifically, Serrania Park. This park was beautiful and green, with concrete pathways cutting through fields of grass and a fun playground for us kids to play in. I always took to playing on the slides, and sometimes I would go on the swing, though my father had to push me. I remember getting jealous of other boys who were able to swing by themselves, boys who were even younger than myself. It was the second time I realized my lack of physical capability. The first time I had such an inkling of my shortcomings were those disastrous football sessions at Dorsett House. Eventually, my father got around to teaching me how to swing by myself, and after some practice, I was able to do it. After that, I would always soar up and down on that swing in the Serrania park playground well into the hour of twilight. I was very small and short statured for my age. I never gave this much concern during my early childhood, but this fact fully dawned on me the day my family took a trip to Universal Studios. At the time, I loved dinosaurs. I was fascinated by them. I had just recently watched the movie Jurassic Park, and when I found out that there was a Jurassic Park themed ride at Universal Studios, I couldn’t wait to go on it. We queued up in the line and waited for an hour. When reached the front, the park staff presented me with a measuring stick, and I didn’t fit the requirements. I saw other boys my age admitted onto the ride, but I was denied because I was too short! The ride that I was so excited to enjoy at the theme park was forbidden to me. I immediately fell into a crying tantrum, and my mother had to comfort me. Being denied entry on a simple amusement park ride due to my height may seem like only a small injustice, but it was big for me at time. Little did I know, this injustice was very small indeed compared to all the things I’ll be denied in the future because of my height. We resorted to trying out the E.T. ride, which I was admitted to. I had a miserable time on this ride, however, because the dark atmosphere and the mechanically moving alien statues that lined the queuing area scared the hell out of me. By the time we got to the actual ride, I was crying in fright, but later calmed down as the ride turned out to be mild and relaxing towards the end. I always enjoyed my family’s get-togethers with the Humphreys. These get-togethers became a common occurrence in my life. Maddy became a very close friend of mine. She was the only friend from Farm School who I continued to see after I graduated. They had a huge back yard area, and the two of us would go on adventures. She also grew up watching The Land Before Time, and we would watch the sequels together whenever they released a new one. Sometimes when I went to her house, she would have other female friends there, and I played with them too. I had no trouble interacting with girls at that age, surprisingly. My six-year-old self was playing with girls, unbeknownst to the horror and misery the female gender would inflict upon me later in my life. In the present day, these girls would treat me like the scum of the earth; but at that time, we were all equals. Such bitter irony. It was now time for me to start First Grade. My parents enrolled me at Serrania Avenue Elementary School, which was just down the street from Serrania Park. I wouldn’t remain at this school for long, however, because only weeks into my First Grade year, my parents decided that they were going to move to Topanga. Most of the kids at Serrania Avenue school will end up going to Taft High School nearby, a place that will cause me great suffering in the future. Perhaps some of the kids in my class at Serrania will end up turning into those who would bully me at Taft. I don’t remember any of the kids from my class there, so I will never know the answer to that. It’s very disturbing to think about. I quite enjoyed my brief time at Serrania. My parents sometimes made me stay an hour after school; I believe this was because they figured it would help me make friends. I can remember this after-school playtime being a positive experience. There were always games that I played with the other kids. And thus I was a bit frustrated when my parents told me they were going to transfer me to another school after only a couple of weeks of settling into Serrania. That frustration would soon cease, because the years that I would spend at Topanga Elementary school would be some of the best years of my life. The last years of being a carefree child. I started First Grade at Topanga Elementary School a couple of weeks before we prepared to move to Topanga. Topanga is a secluded, mountainous community surrounding a canyon that runs through the Santa Monica Mountains, located in between the San Fernando Valley and the Pacific Coast Highway. We had only passed through this community a few times, when we would take trips to the beach. It has a certain rugged beauty about it. On my first day at Topanga Elementary, I was very nervous. Since it was about a month after the first grade term started, I was going to be the “new kid” at school. I remember the nervousness taking over my body as my mother drove us up the steep road that led into the school proper. My new class was just lining up to start the day as we walked onto the main courtyard. My teacher, Mrs. Matsuyama, was very nice and understanding. My mother said goodbye and I got in line with the other students. The first kid I saw there was a chubby boy named Bryce Jacobs, who was staring at me strangely. As we got to class, Mrs. Matsuyama assigned one of the students to show me around and help me adjust. This student happened to be none other than Philip Bloeser. Philip was always very mature for his age, and he was nice to me on my first day. He became my first friend at Topanga Elementary. The day turned out to be one of great fun. Class time was not too boring, and we did some fun arts and crafts activities. For recess and lunch, there were two playgrounds: the Upper and the Lower. The first and second graders would go to the Lower playground, and the third, fourth, and fifth graders would go to the Upper. The Lower playground was smaller, but it had some nice amenities, especially the sloping hill to the side of it, where I would enjoy running up and down “kicking dust”, a game I instantly created due to the dust-like dirt on this hill. When my mother came to pick me up, I recall having so much fun that I didn’t want to leave! That’s a first. In the past, I was always eager to go home after spending hours at school. The drive to and from school was a long one, or at least long for my six-year-old self. My favorite part of the drive was the descent from Topanga into the Valley. The view of the broad expanse of the Valley was breathtaking as it opened up before us after clearing the final hill. I would make that trip through the winding roads of Topanga Canyon every day for the next couple of weeks, before we moved to the new house. Sometimes my mother would pick me up, and sometimes my nanny would. I don’t remember the name of this nanny, as she was only with us for a brief period of time. I loved the new house the moment I laid eyes on it. It was a beautiful, round, wooden house located up the road from Valley View Drive, in the better part of Topanga. It had two stories, a swimming pool, and a lovely deck that provided a view of the lush mountains. I instantly named it the “Round House”. I was sad to leave our house in Woodland Hills, our first house in America. I would miss the good times I had there, playing with Maddy and my other friends, swimming in the pool, the close proximity to Serrania Park where I spent a lot of time enjoying the elations of a carefree childhood. Our new Round House in Topanga, however, turned out to be a worthy replacement. My room at the Round House was a bit smaller than my old one, but I remember it being very cozy. Shortly after we moved in, Ah-Mah came to visit from England, and she baked my favorite peanut cookies. We had some very happy times during the beginnings of my life there. My father’s new directing career was taking off quite well too, and he would go away a lot to direct commercials for prestigious companies, leaving my mother and the nanny to look after me. The only downside of this was my father’s absence from my life. Despite this, I always looked up to him as a powerful and successful man. Adjusting to my new environment in Topanga was quite easy for me, especially since school was so much fun. I was now a Topanga Kid. During recess at school, I started noticing this boy with slightly long blonde hair who also enjoyed kicking dust. Before I met him, I always mentally nicknamed him the “King Arthur Kid”, due the regal look his hairstyle gave him. It was only a matter of time before our dusting kicking antics would collide with each other. We then teamed up and starting playing the game together, and this was the start of a long and interesting friendship. This boy’s name was James Ellis, and he would become my best friend for the next 14 years of my life. Sometimes, the two of us would join with Philip Bloeser and some other boys, and play fun games like handball, war games, and tag. Soon enough, I would start having frequent playdates with James Ellis. His house was just down the hill from mine. James’s father was named Arte; and his mother, Kim, became one of my mother’s best friends. Christmas arrived quickly, and for my present I got my first video game console, a Nintendo 64! I had little knowledge of video games before this. I barely knew what they were. My father is the one who introduced me to them. With the Nintendo 64, my father bought the games Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire, and Turok: Dinosaur Hunter. I was fascinated with this new form of entertainment, and my father and I would bond a lot over our video game sessions. Of course, while playing these video games, my innocent, happy self knew nothing of the significant role video games would play during a large portion of my life… and the sanctuary such games would eventually provide for me from the cruelties of this world. For now, they were just a form of entertainment like any other hobby. Life was good at the round house, but soon enough I had to witness my mother and father get into a lot of arguments. I was too young at the time to understand what they were arguing about, but I knew they were not getting along. It didn’t really concern me all too much, because every other aspect of my life was wonderful. I had playdates with James Ellis every week. Sometimes he would surprise me with a visit after school, as we lived so close by. I went over to Philip Bloeser’s house a few times as well, and I met his younger brother, Jeffrey. The Bloeser’s also became good friends with my mother. They lived in a nice house up the road from our own, with a deck that provided an extraordinary view of the Topanga mountains. At some point I learned about the possibility that parents can separate… divorce… no longer live together. The prospect baffled my little mind. I once sat down with my mother on our outside deck and asked her if she and father would ever divorce. She told me it will never happen, and that I had nothing to worry about. I was relieved by that. Little did I know, such a thing would happen in only a few months time. My first grade year ended splendidly. I made a few lasting friends, and I had a blast at Topanga Elementary. I always considered myself a good, well-behaved student, so I was a bit disappointed at the few times I got in trouble. My class had a system where if we do something wrong, we would change our card color from green to yellow, and then to red if we did any more troublemaking. I thought I would never have to change my card, but I had to change it to yellow a few times for minor things. When first grade ended, I made the resolution that in second grade I will never be forced to change my card. After my last day of school, I was looking forward to a long summer break, my favorite time of the year. I was a bit dismayed when my parents made me attend summer camp. My father had to go away a lot for work, and my mother needed to have some time to look after baby Georgia. Summer camp wasn’t all that bad, I had some fun. It consisted of kids from First through Fourth grade, and we played lots of games and watched movies. 7 Years Old My last memory of my parents being together was my 7th birthday, and I would always cherish it. We didn’t have a party for my seventh birthday, but more of a small get-together for lunch. Maddy and the Humpreys were our only guests. We celebrated it at Gladstones, my favorite restaurant at the time. It was in the Pacific Palisades, right on the beach. I had my favorite meal, lobster. It was a very happy day for all of us. I was turning seven. That was a big number for my little mind. I had spent seven years on this fascinating world, and my life was at a good start. I had loving parents, I had friends to play with, I was having fun at school, and I had all the toys a little boy could want. A stranger would look at this seven year old boy and think that he has a great life in front of him, that there is nothing to worry about. Indeed, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about… But I was just a child. I still had a few more years to enjoy life in carefree bliss before I would eventually discover how twisted and cruel this “fascinating world” really is. My parents seemed happy that day. I remember them laughing and having a good time. It would be the last time I remember them being happy together. Perhaps they really weren’t, perhaps they were just putting up a front so that I could enjoy my birthday. I couldn’t even fathom the possibility of my parents separating. Very shortly after my seventh birthday, the news came. I believe it was my mother who told me that she and my father were getting a divorce; my mother, who only a few months before told me that such a thing will never happen. I was absolutely shocked, outraged, and above all, overwhelmed. This was a huge life-changing event. My father was to stay at the round house, and my mother would move to another smaller house in Topanga. It was arranged that me and my sister will mostly be living with our mother, and we would go to father’s house on the weekends. My father was required to pay child support to my mother so that she can look after us. My life would change forever after this. The family I grew up with has split in half, and from then on I would grow up in two different households. I remember crying. All the happy times I spent with my mother and father as a family were gone, only to remain in memory. It was a very sad day. Just like the move to the U.S., it would be like starting a whole new life with a new routine. Despite the initial sadness I felt from my family splitting in half, my new life situation wasn’t all that bad. It was still practically the same life, though I lived with my mother in one house and my father in another. My mother’s new house was small and red in color, located up a steep driveway from Topanga Canyon Boulevard. I would call it the “Red House”. It was the smallest house I’ve lived in at that point. It only had two bedrooms, and I had to share a room with my sister Georgia. We had a bunk-bed, and I slept on the top. I was quite uncomfortable with this change at first, being used to having my own room and living in bigger houses. My mother’s kind and loving nature, however, made up for this, and she turned the household into a fun environment which I enjoyed living in. After spending the first week at mother’s house, father came to pick me and my sister up for the weekend. Georgia had become very attached to mother after this week, and she burst into tears when we drove off. I too, was a bit distressed at having to go from one house to the other every week, but I would soon get used to it. The Round House was very different without mother being there. When we entered, I felt a wave of sadness creep over me as I was reminded of my life when mother and father were together. The house was full of memories; happy, cheerful memories that were lost in the past. With my mother missing from it, there was a sense of bleakness and loss to the place. Father did his best to cheer us up. I could tell that he, too, was very saddened by the recent events. My father soon rented one of the rooms of the round house to his good friend Dan Perelli, one of his first friends in America. Dan used to live close to our house in Woodland Hills until he was struck with financial troubles, which I’m assuming is why he started renting a room from my father. I would always call him “Uncle Dan”. From this point on, Uncle Dan would stay with us as a lodger for a few years. The time to start Second Grade arrived. My new teacher was named Mrs. Weisberg, and she was very kind. The students in my class were mostly the same as my First Grade class, with only one or two new students who transferred from other schools. I made a few new friends, such as Shane and Tommy. I was very disappointed to find out that James Ellis would not be returning to Topanga Elementary for second grade. In fact, his family would be moving out of Topanga to the Pacific Palisades, where they would be renting a house from their friends, the Lemelson’s. My father’s stay at the round house was very brief. He suffered some temporary financial setbacks on top of the divorce, so he decided to move to a smaller house on Old Topanga Canyon. It was a very abrupt move, and I would never see the round house again. One day, after he picked me and my sister up from mother’s, he took us to the new house and that was it. The house was a small, two-story house in a more rustic part of the Topanga mountains. The upstairs portion had only a bedroom and bathroom, and it was rented to Uncle Dan. All around the outside of the house were very small hills and hiking trails that led up to the mountains. Overlooking these hills was a massive, imposing rock called “Big Rock”. When I first saw Big Rock, I told myself that one day I’ll climb to the top of it! I took a liking to this new environment, and every time I visited father on the weekends, I would always be outside, exploring and adventuring. There were always new places to discover in that secluded region. I didn’t venture too far into the wilderness, however, because of the danger of coyotes and mountain lions. After only a couple of months since my seventh birthday, a new and very important person would come into my life. After father picked us up from school one day and took us to his house, I saw a woman with dark hair and fair skin standing in the kitchen, and she introduced herself as Soumaya. She would become my stepmother. Father told me she would be living with us from now on. At first I thought she was just another friend who was temporarily staying with father, similar to what Uncle Dan was doing. My father having a girlfriend so shortly after divorcing my mother didn’t even occur to me. I couldn’t understand it. Soon enough, though, I realized that Soumaya was, in fact, his “girlfriend”, and they were together just like how my father and mother were together. It was the first time I learned the concept of a “girlfriend”, and it was hard to grasp. Before that, I always thought a man and a woman had to be married before living together in such a manner, and that it would take a long time for such a union to happen. Father finding a new girlfriend in such a short amount of time baffled me. I was completely taken aback.

lol

what a funny talk page border style="color:black" addison (talk) 20:10, 25 April 2021 (UTC)