Sunday, 12 December 2010


I originally am from England. I am quartre English, quarte Polish and hald Turkish. I've got an amazing brother that lives in England, and parents that live in Turkey. I havn't seen my parents in over two years, and my brother for 18 months..

 To get the news that their son was in jail, was obviously a shock to my mum and dad. They knew i wasn't the best behaved child in the world, and knew first hand that i was never one to shy away from dubious activities, but not this. I didn't want to tell my parents for a long while after my arrest, but my wife took it upon herself to tell them. They deserved to know, no matter how upsetting it was for them.

 I was arrested in September. The 17th i believe. It was a Friday, and an early start if i've ever had one..
My parents had planned on coming to see me at the end of the year. I knew they were extremely proud of me. I had come to the city of my dreams, and made it all on my own. The family that had invited me here had basically abandoned me, and i had to fend for many points it looked like i would have to accept defeat and go back to London. I knew if i didn't do all i could, try every possibility, i would always regret it. Because of this attitude, i managed to get myself on my feet, an make it involved a LOT of shitty jobs, but i was happy doing it.
 I think around December mum and dad were planning on coming. They were excited to see their boy, all grown up. I had a sweet apartment, and i had all the material posessions i needed (or thought i needed). They were also looking forward to meeting their new daughter in law. I was their first son to be married, and i knew they were very proud of this. My parents are very loving people, and the girl i chose to be my wife, they showed the same unconditional love and support for..
The last time i saw them was in Turkey at around Christmas 2008. I had often gone to see them every year, and to see my dog Fred who is on his last legs as we speak! But he leads an amazing life for a dog..eating steak most days and swimming in the ocean. Lucky fuck.
 On this trip to turkey, one of my long lost (for a reason) cousins turned up out of the blue. The last time we saw him was in New York when i was younger..he was supposed to take us to the airport and never showed up, and turned his phone off. Nice guy. Anyway, he was full of stories about how he had turned his life around..i mentioned that i've always wanted to live in New York, so he told me to buy a plane ticket and come over! Promises of free places to stay and jobs were also in the mix..So i took the remainder of my student loan, bought a ticket, and off i went..From when i landed to how i got here will have to wait..
 So..back to the present.
Instead of my dear old dad flying to come and see his son and his new life in the big apple, he was flying to try and bail his son out of federal prison. Considering all of the family members i have in New York are verbal diarria spewing bottom feeders, i knew deep down this was never going to happen..For example, one cousin who was the witness at my wedding refused to bail me out, because i didn't go to her sons birthday party. Safe G.
Up until about a week before my fathers arrival, my wife had been supporting me and was behind me 100 %. But as the days drew closer to daddio Turks arrival, she became more and more erratic. Then, after a meeting with her attorney, decided that she was going to blame me for the crime she comitted, and has been doing so ever since.
Thanks honey, You're the best x
 After initially agreeing to meet my father, who was not only coming to help me, but help her also (this was his daughter in law after all) the atmosphere changed. So instead, my father asked if he could come and collect my belongings (before they were burnt sold or made into some kind of Turkish Voodoo doll ) which was agreed on.
 My father lands on american soil, calls her up, she answers,
"Hello m**** this is timothys father ozer, how are you?"
 She puts phone down. thanks again x. My father had not flown from his home town, to Istanbul, to London then to New York to be treated with such little respect. Seriously.
 Being the wiley Turk that he is, Big Noseio managed to track down her fathers telephone number. They speak, and agree on meeting for Coffee. I am relieved to know that her father is actually behind me, is extremely ashamed of his daughters behaviour, and his literal words are 'if it was up to me, she'd be in jail'. Gwarn!
They organise a day and time, and i get my posessions back. It's something i guess, knowing i have my clothes waiting for me whenever i am finally released from this shithole..But in the grand scheme of things, it's just clothes. Yes there are a few bitching Mortal Kombat tshirts and the like, but at this point i would travel from New York to London naked, painted pink with a dildo glued to my forehead. Real talk.
 Half the reason dad comes here, is to see me. He's my father, he loves me more than the world, and he needs to make sure his boy is ok. To do this, we needed to get him approved for a visit.
I send my fat cock sucker of an attorney the visitors form, which he must have recieved in the mail...but probably mistook it for toilet paper, wiped his shitty ass on it, then smeared it on a bagle. But never the less, the visit was never approved. My dad flew all the way to New York, just to pick up his sons belongins from his soon to be ex wife, and didn't even get the chance to see me.
 This was very upsetting, but it happened for a reason. I love my father more than the world, and i know that he did all he could. I can imagine how he felt knowing his son was in jail, and there was nothing he could do to get me out. But i understand, and i want him to know that i appreciated everything that he did, and he did more than he needed. He did his best. and that's all i wanted.
 At the vest least, from my cell window opposite Pearl Street, i got a glimspe of my father. Standing in the street, he always stands out in a crowd. People will be bustling away, and my father just jams. Walks at his own pace, no hurry, the word is waiting for him. And so it should. From his Gangster limp, to his fresh threads (seriously, pops flosses the dome), he is as fly as ever, and i'm always proud to be his son. My pops :) xx

1 comment:

  1. reading your posts really makes me think we take life for granted too much, i hope you are doing good there mate, be strong and the day will come soon! safe