JASON VAN DE VEERE

SPORTS, CARS, STREET RACING IM GOING TO OPEN MY OWN TUNER SHOP AND ITLL BE SICK NOT ONE IN THE PAC NORWEST HAS SHIT IN THAT COMMUNITY ITS HARD TO TUNE YOUR CAR RIGHT BUT EASY TO TUNE IT RICE................NO MORE RICE CARS PLZ RICE RICE RICE RICE COMMON PEOPLE GET IT TOGETHER NO GIANT SPOILERS NODRIVING YOUR CAR WITH PRIMER, NO BATTLE OR BLITZ BODY KITS, NO HALO HEADLIGHTS, NO BURNONG SPRINGS, MEXICANS ARENT ALLOWED TO DO SHIT ON THEIR OWN EITHER CAUSE YP SHIT IS WACK

I'd like to meet:

THE MAN OF MY DREAMS BUT DOESNT EVERYONE

Music:

TRANCE TECHNO R&B HIP HOP EVERYTHING BUT COUNTRY REALLY NO BUTS THOUGH

Movies:

SCARFACE, LEGENDS OF THE FALL, BRAVEHEART, LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE ROCK....MORE LATER

Television:

ESPN AND THE HISTORY CHANNEL ARE THE BIG ONES OTHERWISE ILL WATCH THE NEWS AND FLIP THROUGH THE CHANNELS BUT YOU KNOW ILL BE HAPPY ON ONE OF THOSE TWO CHANNELS

Books:

THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF MY LIFE STORY WHICH I HOPE TO PUBLISH ONE DAY.........ITS THE FIRST TIME IM LETTING IT LEAK OUT PLEASE ENJOY IT..... Another accident CHAPTER 1 In the free and clear I wonder nothing but deep troubling thoughts and emotions ripping at my soul. I manage to roam for hours at a time in a maze of nothingness, in whatever direction my mind allows, because in my sleep I never dream for I am haunted by my past, this is the story told at last. Super bowl weekend 1980 abuse had already settled in like a thick fog resting upon a mental anguish a depressing weary, a frightened woman an awaiting mother. Crazy? Not even psycho this man has been diagnosed with his very own symptoms. He drove like a mad man so Iâ€™ve heard, missing the game for all he cared the absurd yelling and dramatization brought an eerie and tense sensation to the car fear was settling in. Close to death they came but the realization of this death was second to them. The first child was on his way and a mother, father and grandmother would be witness to that magical event. They arrived at the hospital tears in their eyes, fear and glee in my mothers and anger and happiness in my grandmothers, my father he was crying too for he missed a crucial play in the game. Pitiful. A man souly driven by his own pride, for he had not care in his heart that wasnâ€™t blacked and cemented in his body. She was being ushered away and he was blaming himself for changing these stars with an unnerving stroke. He found a TV and huddled around the idea of a son on the way was second to this, second to none. Tears already in my eyes one step close before I arrive Long Beach California I should despise but for all its worth the beginning is near horrid moments I see a birth is here. Joy set in all their face he was there too this man was a stranger to me he was a stranger to be. My father wasnâ€™t just a crazy man at times he was a beautiful man a man who used his fingers to bring joy to every ones lives. Young and old eyes would close emotions would mold to this mans music, everyone could hold their soul in there hands and be at complete ease. He was phenomenal one of the best guitar players in the United States but he held deep secrets of the past secrets in which not one even could start to realize or to know. From teacher to handy man, from traveling man he was build of rage and anger this man knew nothing of moral grounding he knew nothing of love aside from his own deception. He brought fear into the eyes of others and stained pain into those who loved him but for the negative in this man changed the alignment of the planets and arranged the stars when his fingers arrested those strings of his guitar. I loved my father but this man causes me deep suffering and eternal anger. Things that burn inside of me until this day writing now with tears in my eyes anger in my mouth and drying pain ripping at my soul I can see nothing but fading love, for a man who deserved none. A woman for who knows no evil and has seen the devil faces to face and survived. She walks with a glide waltzing in a way that angels would envy. Love for all and cherishing of life, My life has been muted from this woman and so has my love. She has always been there since day one my mother has brought me a unique love to this life and a strange regret in which I run from everyday. A brush some paints and a place to paint she frees people makes lives better because in her mind everything is perfect for she lives free for the first time she lives. Flashing lights attract you to her the halo catches you off guard and the wings are no surprise. Take a double take and realize reality look at her again and soak up her spirit because grace is at ease in her presence. This woman has no fear has no evil, this woman is amazing, so amazing that she can live with deep suffering weighted down by a block of emotion channeled away since she freed herself from the rings the titanium cuffs that held her wed locked in a horrid relationship. A match made in heaven a father who knew no good and a mother who knew no evil. The first step to my first step the last step to my drunkenness state of 21 years of physical fear and an eternity of mental anguish, fear and love. A match made in heaven. Not long after I was born around May 1980 Oregon was a new drawing on the board inbound and adrift McMinnville was the next stop and the first night mare. My father dangling behind doing what gigs he could hustle and becoming even more psychotic everyday. This man was about to erupt like Mt. St. Helens and it was that month that hell itâ€™s self was released from the den of the ground. I guess it was contagious because an eruption was eminent in Washington and Oregon. I was the centerfold in the marvelous battle between wits verse nerves a pawn in a chess game and I was moved as if this was actually so. So why would anyone treat a child in this mannerâ€¦? WHY? A son a confidant lost and dazed frightened and feared men a man a story a birth a death and love it moves on for here like a roller coaster with no rollers. Reliving CHAPTER 2 What nextâ€¦suicide? Abduction? Molestation? Physical abuse? Well play along with me as I write and come to realize the facts aside from fiction because fiction is in a Stephen King novel and fact is in mine. Probably the end of May my father found us and was apologizing saying the normal and conjuring up something believable. Of course a woman like my mother had nothing to sayâ€¦because fear sets in her each time this man comes near her, so acceptance is eminent and he is welcome. That always dreamed about second chance was now in play and the dread of living was returned. 2nd street was the new battleground and this sweet neighborhood was the field of play. Now the house as I remember it was a one story a brown house two or three bedrooms a nice front yards and a wonderful fenced back yard. The home was filled with the most horrid onslaught of nightmares that anyone man could dream up in a lifetime. And this is where it all really begins. I have never really revealed this story in its absolute truth for the memories are haunting and tormenting but the story is one not to be told. Yet not to be with held. In the months to come the violence increased and 911 was on speed dial the police spent more time at our home than they did at the locale donut shop. This violence wasnâ€™t like anything experienced in any normal domestic spout it was so deep it was petrifying. This set basic levels of feelings that when you actually felt fear tears of joy rolled over your cheeks. Yet it got worse that summer, not even one year old yet and I had see more violence than Iâ€™d seen combined in all those Terminator movies. A household name violence the first word I uttered in my childhood crying so hard that I couldnâ€™t breath I said it â€œVIOLENCEâ€. When my first birthday rolled around I already knew things that most adults have never seen or wanted to dream of seeing. Horrid things that would strike fear into the eyes of and adult, now at the age of one I had no idea what was in store for me in my life. Never did I want to dream of what happened or what would happen. Not actually saying I remember everything but knowing myself as I do I know. Being held comforted and listening to these amazing sounds come from this mans fingers was the most confusing thing I would ever have to deal with. This man I looked at with love in my eyes I knew was my father but would a father throw his child. Why did this man hit me? Why do I love this man? Now looking back on my life looking at my baby book I can actually just start to see how tormented my life was. I look into that book and I see the first page writing in like it should be then the second love adapted into it like a dozen of roses given to your lover. Yet, the third page is empty and the following is too and so is the rest and this is where it all began. My first birthday I canâ€™t really remember but, I mean who really can nothing was to speak of diapers, bottles, crying and abduction (round one). By this time my mother was traumatized so much that she had to go to the courts and find a way to keep this horrible man out of my life. Liquid Bondo molded his hands to my mothers neck and let me tell you now that if you are to that point change your name and move 100,000 miles away from the courts and the devils lurching in your life. For you will one day find relief in your life. You will find the strength to survive and to ford forward in your life. Now we go to the judge the judge sits in front of us with a novel a file on my father and we explain our sides. I can see him now as if I could remember it a movie typical scene. As if he stretches out overlooks the notes he took while we told our stories and he leans forward pushes his glasses up his nose and dismisses the case. Like he was working for my father himself, he takes no affirmative action, thus meaning that nothing changes! What is going on here is this how the system really works is this how the system works amazing simply amazing and I speak nothing more for nothing more can be said. Surprised? Donâ€™t be because the smell of revenge tingles in the air like the scent of rain about to down pour upon you. A sour smell that is very distinct almost as if a body was decaying in your back room revenge was decaying in my father eyes and a woman a mist in his eyes his sun was about to open itâ€™s one eye. Now the total out come of this court ruling was worse than my mothers personal actions Joint custody was in play now and this meant that my father was in as much control as my mother. Now from his point of view he knew he could win but this wasnâ€™t a game no one was to win or lose. He had been sliding cards up his sleeve for a while and he was greedy he wanted to pull a straight flush this hand and bad was written all over it. He plays out a couple more hands and then he makes his move he picks me up from the baby sitter and returns me eight months later abuse in the air and blocked memories always to despair. I came home in a little box gift-wrapped and postmarked a dozen times from here to there and everywhere. It was a trip of dreams; it was a trip of screams. Now tormented at an age that remembers the most that effects your adulthood more than any phase in ones life the first two years are always the most important in a childâ€™s life. Now this man sat next to me and I could do nothing but love him and internally fear him for these ghosts were abound and these demons adrift? From running drugs to playing his guitar to being a father to being a bully Iâ€™ll tell you about him Iâ€™ll tell you about him here this is about Ken. Chapter 3 Them Born Kenneth Lee Roberts August 1950 son of Virginia and Lee. They married the year my father was born I think they were the best of parents and good grandparents too. Married 50 plus years they had commitment to say the least. So did my father he found commitment early in life he picked up a guitar at the age of seven. Five years old this man plucked away at those strings working magic and creating a fantasy for himself he never put that guitar down it was his baby his lover his pride and his joy. That guitar was the focal point to all his attention it helped him become a monster it helped him become a star. A guitar was a release for him as a book is for a lost child who gets picked on at school. That child holds in everything and one day it has to come out. From experience I can tell you that the most dangerous people in this world are the people who read those book play those instruments and walk alone they bottle their rage and anger they hide their feelings and they scary. Now my uncle Jim came along Iâ€™m not sure when exactly but he found his way into this wonderful world and made himself into a fabulous man he is great I have nothing to say to that is bad Jim is a good man. Iâ€™ve met him only twice but those two time could last forever this man is the type that takes out a little bad and gives a little good heâ€™s a good man. Since the truth is my story and I want to tell you what my life Iâ€™ll tell you now I know little of that side of the family. They presided on the East Coast New York and New Jersey mostly so I've heard. Now Iâ€™m guessing that there was allot of abuse in the family but that is all speculation for these people are tight lip types and wouldnâ€™t speak of it if it came down to it. 1970â€™s was when it began my father started his rampage and started my story. Now this mans guitar was a drug but the drugs I speak of he could see in a mirror. He started his rampage with a razor blade drawing attention from all sorts of people, people in crowds that he should have never met. Music was now second to him greed was aft in the air and the heavens cried for a broken heart and a desire for this music that soared no more. Now during this time my father met a lady they had a son too. I wasnâ€™t the first just the last. Adam was my brotherâ€™s name his mother I do not know. She left my father abused and battered, she was never the same for this woman has no name. This woman was smart she ran what made her brilliant is she knew how to disappear. I have never met my brother I believe he is close to 28 I hope one day I do maybe this book will attract him. Shock treatment was implied and god himself throws a party for he paid nothing and for the music my father with no fee returned it. Late 1970â€™s he attracted all sorts of attention from good and bad but one attraction were better than good she was great. Teresa Van De Veere my wonderful mother fell for the music look at this man didnâ€™t know him but thought the music was a reflection of self. God was shocked again was this man ever going to play again for the harps of the angels were cut and my dear oldâ€™ dad was at it again. He loved Mexico he made money there lotâ€™s of money for he never thought money was so green until it actually spoke to him laid in his wallet and washed his brain. I think it was 1978 he took a leisure trip to Mexico to get a couple burritos and on his was back to southern California the FBI wanted to speak with him. They ripped apart his van throwing boxes onto the pavement and found nothing a sigh of relief rolled over my fatherâ€™s eyes and then dreads when they opened the floor panels and found 100 kilos of pure cocaine. Now he wasnâ€™t the only one shocked as you could imagine the feds where amazed so amazed that they thought it would be a good idea to arrest this guy. This was the actual start to that movie Traffic but it fell into play a few years before. Now some background my father I guess had a friend for along time that ended up catching up to him and asking him if he wanted in. In? Well the fact of the matter was that this guy this friend was one of the top 10 drug runners in the country and now my pops was all for it. Operations manager I guess you could call him, they had it all life was easy. Now people trusted my father (who we are just going to call Ken for now on), now Ken had a good connection with this group he knew everyone and knew them but name met their wifeâ€™s and played football with their kids. He was in it close with these people he knew them all. I think 28 years was the first number they through out there. 28 years in a federal penitentiary. Just think of what was running throw Kenâ€™s mind right when the feds rolled into the interrogation room. They popped the question. How would 28 days sound to you? WHAT? â€œYou tell us lets say the top ten guys your working for and ill let you go with 28 days, how is that?â€ Now Ken wasnâ€™t a fucking snitch but he wasnâ€™t made for jail either. So of course he wrote down that list of names and he was on his way. Besides, he wasnâ€™t ready to go to jail he still had to put me through hellâ€¦Ken. Those men are still in jail to this day as far as I know maybe they have been released, they walk around now with walkers carrying around a bag attached to trip him for they no longer live they are already dead. Fuel. The fire burns deep in Kenâ€™s soul 1979 I was coming and he was getting warmed up for the first five years of my life horrid memories abound. Now I donâ€™t see anything in my mind really until Iâ€™d say I was two so lets start it off officially there and maybe we will work back for my past is coming alive as I write. Take your restroom break and then sit back but can your relax?Chapter 4I really wish I have spent more time writing about myself and less time drinking playing pool and escaping the past. I have done allot of stupid shit lately. I bought this BWM and some one throw something at the window and shattered it; well one of my friends was in my car and he knew who he was he told me where he lived. I waited next to his house and when I saw his ass I hit him with a bat in the head nice and firm hit blood splattered and hit fell. Then I broke the window to his car and burned his car.

Heroes:

DEAD.....YEAH MY BEST FRIEND AND HERO WAS MURDERED AND I STILL HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO FORGET ITS FRESH IN MY MIND EVERY DAY EVER HOUR EVERY MINUTE AND I MISS HIM SO MUCH
More Images at MSBGimages.com!

I am here for Dating, Serious Relationships, Friends and Networking

About Me

My Interests