My Story

Not Old Just Older

Just want to take a minute and thank all those who continue to stand by and support me I want to wish every a great Weekend. As we all age it can be revelation of something you have earned not old ….Just Older little bit more grey and wiser

See you back in the office on Monday as I am taking the weekend off for my Birthday

My Story

A Day Only Real Moms Deserve

Those Real Mama’s seeing your, kids live and grow are moments that always will remain with abundance of endless joy. Being a Mom and feeling new life form inside your womb is like no other amazing sensation , a journey that started nine months ago. To pain ridden moments to new life wanting to bursts out and take breath .

Mothers Love

Just wanted to wish all you awesome Mama’s a Grand day just you . For some of us in my case its not grand jester, It gave me life. The monstrosity I was subjected to and endure . No real mom or parent would ever imagine inflicting on their kids, “IT” longer has existence in my life but made sure to leave a wake of a mass of destruction.

And for that I hope you rot in Brimstone and even that would be too good for you!

E.O.S-Primal Repr

My Story

My Story

I would like to start by introducing myself … Hi I am Alex 

Many have grown up with mesmerising moments from their childhood had two loving parents” I was not one of those:

starting from the aged of 9 until I was 16, I was subjected to horrific physical brutality from my biological mother whom we will refer to “it” 
They cast its level of hatred onto me because of how much I reminded it of my Father. When my Father was home, I never needed to fear or think I was walking on shattered glass.
I also understood what he was doing was rid of the world of Nemesis, so when he would leave on an assignment I been asked why I didn’t tell my Father? And I was told by “it” if I did she would inform his C.O that he was doing things to me” and in the Armed Forces that is a Death sentence. I would be left in clutches of Mommy dearest and its twisted sadistic desires and pleasures. Many times it would be an unbearable and fucking nightmare a lot where I endured was in what I called the “Basement of Secrets” I would be forcefully confined to a chair and whipped for hours with black licorice.

No one would ever hear me

There were times I wouldn’t be allowed to go to school because I would be healing from the beatings and welts. At a very young age, I learned and embrace the darkness as my numbing solace and was welcomed with open arms.
I had a mate of mine who’s alcoholic Father was abusing him physically I gave him pat on the back and he yelled ouch. had a massive bruise on his lower back…so I thought if they believe him, why not me?
So I reached out with desperation to be resurrected from that living hell and was laughed and mocked at because what I was telling them was so surreal.
Many mornings I would wake up having knives throwing at my feet or cans of frozen juice whipped at me to see my reflexes.
That night I strongly believe and cringed in paralysing fear that I would not see the Sunrise again. After being crushed and losing all hope, others would help me. I knew if I was going to survive this fucking living Hell it would be because of (ME)  
Ironic thing and fucked up one is the person who was sexually abusing me saw me more than a human being …I guess I choose the lesser of two evils.

So (THEM) that tried to break me, ripped me into never was ‘thought they could extinguish my Life ‘ 
Though fucking wrong yes you laid waste and wreak havoc all over my body and mind with scars even though I still breathe they have shattered me into pieces.
I was always taught by my Father that no matter what keep going but last December before Christmas I was not myself I would put on a smile and act like I was fine but far from it.
Never in million yrs did I think what was going on with me would this. I also didn’t know there was a more voracious and vicious bastard to P.T.S.D but I know now” I live with it every day, as a constant reminder by Roller Coaster I ride.

Thank you for listening to My Story if you know anyone that is struggling never let them think they are lashing out in silent terror.


Feeding the Darkness, My Story

The Storm of Silence

As I mention through my story: Some storms you face alone and they are the ones that either will break you and rip everything from yourself or will forge you into becoming the Sword of Conviction. Not a day goes by do I ever forget what I’d endured and the mass of twisted destruction I was subjected to from the one that is supposed to be there to protect you the most.

Yeah, that was just a fucking mirage

The Storm will not show you mercy or give any… EVER it will make you earn every aspect for you to fight your will to live and persevere, never forget that. And the same goes to those who wish to cause you immense suffering.

You want to fight to Live the then you need to be willing to wager in the gates of Hell to find Heaven.


Feeding the Darkness, My Story

Suffocated into Silence

I have wager into the fires of Brimstone, not knowing if I would ever see the sunshine again. I truly believe I was destined to be just another fading shadow crippled into silence in the Basement of Secrets from playing Hyde’s twisted fucking game. Many times I pray just to be put out of my agonizing existence, but where is the fun in that right… You sick fucking Suka, God forbid Mommy dearest would retract her claws from my flesh.


Being a nine-year-old lad ” You never thought you would see Hell surround you blanketing out your innocence ripping your wings from you so you couldn’t fly away and try to soar.

Being beaten into submission wanting me to fear the dark but it became apart of me embraced , moulded me into the sword “each time I was persecuted into an inferno of dismay I would not submit repeatedly trying to break me. As I became more defiant not give them reaction they wanted” things would amped with more twisted mortifying violent intensity. I had mention before when I try desperately be exile from the belly of fire I was mocked and laugh at…told to stop telling stories ” You know how crushing that was like my lungs every time I took a breath oxygen was be viced out of me. I was so depleted praying for death to come and fucking take me.

But that would be too easy there is no way Mommy fucking dearest would let me be extinguished. From serving a useful purpose to that sick, sadistic monstrosity Hyde. But something inside of me knew if I was going to survive and fight for my life it would be ME and ME alone each time I would resist and fight back, things would get even more intense .Something I heard somewhere at the time I didn’t know where I heard it. Told me that you already in hell keep going ! So I did , I also knew to survive I couldn’t try to think of a happy place because reality the pain and welts along with bruises would still be there to remind me this was fucking real and there was no physically escaping from my depicted reality of brutality.


Being isolated cut off to life jacket but having constant mockery of being shown a means of escape only to show my life wasn’t in my hands. Or so I thought but no matter excruciating the brutality and violence I could not will not ever fucking give up.

If You anyone suffocating in silence, don’t let them feel empty and alone. Being on the Constant Roller Coaster that is relentless and unforgiving can be as if you’re standing in a continuous state of quicksand.


E.O.S- Primal R.e.p.r