Drugs, Girls, Crime, Prison, University & Near Deaths (DGCPUND) Part 5

READ PART 1, 2, 3 & 4 BEFORE THIS...

I could barely focus on anything. My mind was very occupied, what if something bad has happened to her. Why would they switch off her phone? plus the dads tone was distressing. I couldn't hustle that night, instead spent some time walking around the same streets with one of my friends. He was trying his best to motivate me and keep my mood lifted. We got to an off license and bought a 1 liter bottle of Vodka with a mixer. We drank as we talked about our troubles and life in general. That helped a lot, having someone there to take my mind away, it would have been harder if I had to go through that alone. I managed to find some peace but then suddenly my phone went off. It was an alarm that I had set to get in touch with her, to check if she was okay. I tried her phone one more time but the same result. The line was disconnected. I told my boy that I was going to go check up on her. "Fam fuck that just stay here man, you don't need to check up on her she is alright" he said. I had to go...something may have been up with her. I did not want that on my conscience for sure. Even though I knew I was not in the wrong to break up with her, I just had to go. So me thinking this was some type of happy ending shit got on the last train and made my way to hers. Even if I got a simple word from her family members that she was fine then I would have been able to find some peace. I kept trying her phone throughout the journey, hoping it would turn on and that I could make my way back home. The same result, the line was disconnected. When I did arrive on her road I thought twice about ringing the buzzer. I mean I doubt her family would want to see me let alone me turning up at their place near midnight. I just had to find out what had happened to her. So I rang the buzzer and a few moments later the mother answered. "Hello, can you tell me if she is ok?" I asked hesitantly. She started shouting and telling me to go away. She said that I had made her ill and that I was no good. I started walking away from the flat but then suddenly the father ran out. He approached me violently and punched me. I didn't feel anything. I just spat out some blood and continued to ask where she was. I mean the father was in his late 50s striking him may have caused serious injuries. I was too drunk anyway, I felt nothing. Her brother came out with a biker helmet along with her body builder cousin. They all told me to fuck off, and not to show my face here again. "Ok...ok...just tell me she is ok!" I shouted. We all walked to the top of her road as her father requested I get on my knees. I think he was upset about his daughter having got on her knees for a man. He could see I was not going to budge and so the cousin rang the police. They said that I was intimidating them. Can you believe that? An ex army/prison officer, a massive body builder and her brother with a biker helmet against me. Apparently I looked like a threat to them? that didn't even make sense. "Fuck it...call the police then, they can't do anything anyway!" I yelled. I was lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Anger and pain, tears rolling down my eyes. Why wouldn't they just tell me she was ok? Why were they behaving like that? It did not make sense to me. Eventually the police came and I tried to come across ethical. I explained how I had come to check up on my girlfriend after a break up. I never told them that the father had struck me, I wouldn't have anyway. Not only did I not want him to lose his job, I had held harder punches in the past, it was nothing. "Your lips are a bit red" the police man pointed out. I explained that I had fell and that I was fine. Her family left with the younger officer as I continued to speak to the senior one. "Look mate, to be honest I watched a romantic film and drank a lot. I thought I would come here and sort things out with my girlfriend. I know the timing was bad but I was not thinking rationally" I explained confidently. The officer seemed to get it. He said he understood and that he had a son himself. We spoke about some random things, football and his dedication to the 'force'. When the younger officer approached he looked very uncomfortable. "Can you just put out the fag please mate" he said confusedly. I put out the cigarette and waited for him to speak again. He explained how a statement had been written against me and that I was under arrest. Apparently for abusing and physically laying hands on my girlfriend. "What the fuck?!? What are you on about" I asked. The officer explained how it was just an accusation and that the statement had no evidence. He was really kind to me throughout the journey. He joked a lot with me and was pretty much on my side. We spoke about Manchester United and how the team had degraded over the years. We both were very disappointed with the current management of the team. When I got to the station they placed me in an extremely cold cell. I was literally going crazy, I did not know what was happening. I kept ringing the bell asking them to let me out, I was finding it hard to breathe. I felt like my heart was about to explode. I tried to sleep on the mattress but there was no use. So many thoughts were going round in my head, who had written a statement against me? Maybe it was the father worried that I would tell them about him punching me. Maybe this was their way of evening out the consequences. After what felt like one of the worse nights in my life my cell door was swung open. I was guided to the interview room where I met up with a female police officer in charge of family issues and domestic abuse. She spoke to me briefly about the rules of the interview and that it was not a formal one. "You don't need a solicitor, but if you want one then you will have to wait for a while" she explained. I did not want a solicitor and so I asked who had written the statement. She explained that it was my girlfriend. What the fuck? So she was in the house? Why didn't she come out? I was in a state of shock. That news had upset me more than anything. Here was me running around the city to make sure she was ok. Not only did she not come out of the house to tell me she was feeling fine, she had written a statement against me. She had said that I would abuse her sometimes in the middle of the night after having dreams. Also that I had pushed her on a table and various other nonsense. Most of which were either over exaggerated or made up. I understood that she was only trying to protect her father. What an idiot, I wouldn't have told them that he had hit me. I was so heart broken. After everything I had done for her she couldn't even come outside for a second or show her face. Instead got me placed back in a cage like a dog. She knew how much I had tried to improve my life and for her to place me back in that environment. So anyway time went by, I explained all I could in the interview. The officer looked bored as if she wanted me to finish already. I used the interview to defend myself, the accusations were serious ones. Also I guess it was therapeutic. They released me a few hours later on bail. They said for me not to contact her, go to her work place or visit her family home for at least 28 days. All of her things were in my house. The officer said she will find a few of her friends to come and collect everything. It was a very difficult time for me. How could I get over a breakup with all of her things at mine. I didn't sleep, eat or move much for nearly two weeks. My family were so worried about me, I was not myself. I lost a significant amount of weight. I wrote in one of her journals to contact me, I needed to know why she had written that statement against me. I tried to code the letter in a way the police wouldn't understand, using words only me and her knew the meaning. When her distant family members came with 2 police officers to collect her things, I placed the book amongst it all. I waited for her to get in touch, to explain...but she didn't. I secretly even went to her work place, but she was not there. Just before the end of the 28 days I got a call from the station saying that the charges were all dropped. That the 'victim', my girlfriend in this case, had retrieved the statement. "She is in a very bad place, I think its best you 2 to avoid each other completely. You are toxic as it appears...do not contact her!" she explained. Fuck that! I needed some answers and closure. So I found one of her old email addresses from work and wrote her an email. It was a pretty long one requesting answers. That surely she did not love me to do that. I just wanted to release myself in order to get over it. She did not reply for a few days. It was exhausting not knowing anything. My mental health deteriorated...until finally she wrote back...

In the email she asked me not to contact her again. Ok...that is fine but can you at least give me some answers. She kept avoiding the vital questions, as if that was her way of keeping me engaged in the conversation. She knew I wouldn't rest until I got the answers, and she used this to her advantage. What a bitch! It worked though. I remember thinking it must have been her parents who had pressured her into writing that statement. We exchanged several emails and it was clear that the love was still there. Eventually we got to speaking on the phone and she seemed genuinely lost without the thought of us. So we arranged to meet again in order to go through everything. "No way you are going to see her, she put you in the station" my mother said angrily. She was right...she had locked me inside but I had a feeling her parents had encouraged her more than anything. Who was I kidding, she knew what she had done. Regardless if she took the statement back or not she had hurt me dearly. I still had love for her however, and I needed to see her again. Maybe for one final closure. It appeared that she was being real finally, being herself. Although our interaction had changed and I started seeing her real side, things were still pretty much the same. It would take some getting use to I guess, it was like I had met a new person, a person I had love for. We decided to meet in Victoria for a few hours. Her parents did not know about us and she had saved my name under one of her work colleagues. It was annoying anytime I tried to contact her, I would send her text messages 'asking for her work'. She would then call me when the coast was clear, how pathetic, but it was what it was. When we met she burst out into tears, saying how much she loved me it was genuine I could tell. We had a meal at a hotel and walked around the area. We joked and entertained ourselves with stupid conversations but it was clear that she was behaving different. I noticed changes in her 'real' side which I did not like. It felt as if we had gone back into the dating period. The emotions we both possessed were far greater than the dating stage. Not only did I have no trust in her, I had become incredibly paranoid given the changes in her personality. I wasn't sure I could get used to all of these any time soon. We had sex in a couple restrooms, it felt weird but exciting. She enjoyed it more than me, I was more confused than anything, lost between emotions and physicality. We then got into silly arguments and walked apart from each other. It was all childish but refreshing for her I guess. None of all that deep emotional stuff for once. I asked her to stay the night with me, to tell her parents she was going away for the weekend to one of her girls houses. When she did call her dad to ask for permission he knew something was up, but wasn't sure what. He even asked her if she was with me, to which she responded with "Absolutely not! fuck him!". That seemed to bring him some peace. So she headed back home that night and we made a plan to meet again on the weekend. She promised to stay the night after much persuasion. I booked us a place near a nice area in Richmond. She planned the entire thing with her parents, informing them who she was going to be with and when she would return. It was all set and the night before the getaway we spent talking on the phone. She would constantly hang up when her parents walked in. She would then call me back when they were not around. It felt as if she was in the most secure prison on earth. Regular patrols from her father and mother walking by her door, proper military. I remember saying goodnight to her and telling her to meet me at 10am the next day. I decided to call her back one last time to ask her something, but then suddenly someone came through her door. I could hear it was her father and he was shouting at her. I did not know what to say, if I should say anything at all. End of the day she had saved my number under one of her 'girl' work colleagues. Besides, I wouldn't be able to pull off a girl voice really well. I just hung up and sent a text asking for her to call me back in order to discuss the work for tomorrow. Her phone was switched off once again. What had happened? surely they didn't find out she was speaking to me. I just headed to bed and planned to call her in the morning. Even if they had taken her phone she could email me surely. She still had her laptop at hand. She didn't send me an email and her phone remained off throughout the entire morning. When I woke up at around 8am I called her, still it was off. I started getting worried thinking they had hurt her physically. We were suppose to meet in a couple hours, maybe she is getting ready? who knows. So I walked to the station and found a woman waiting for her cab. I asked her if she could call my girlfriends house and ask for her, to say she was her work colleague. She seemed adamant at first but I persuaded her. She called her house but the mother picked up. She asked if she could speak to her as it was urgent. The mother said that she was not in apparently. I thanked the woman and made my way to Richmond. I got to the station and waited for another 25 mins but still no sign of her. Something was definitely up and so I found another pedestrian, a more senior woman to act like her manager. She called the house again but the mother was very rude this time. "She is not home, stop calling this number, she is out!" she shouted. The woman looked angry, I apologised and thanked her for her input. I walked around Richmond station for another 30 mins and then made my way back home. It was a Sunday so I knew for a fact she had work the next day, maybe I could get a hold of her on her work phone. I presumed the meeting was off and when I got home I got in touch with one Spanish girl I use to see, Marina. "Can you just call them and speak Spanish. Tell them that you are one of her friends and that you need to speak to her. Then when you get her on the phone tell her to call me back Gracias" I asked her. She did me the favour and called her house phone once again. I did not hear the conversation but when she got back to me she said that the mother was extremely rude. Apparently she had told Marina that her iPhone had fallen in the toilet and was broken. That did not even make sense, the iPhone she had was waterproof. That is when I realised that they had kept her in the house. What psychos, why would they do that? anyway I waited for the next day. I would surely get a hold of her on her work phone.

When I got through to her work place one of her friends picked up. She told me that she had given her notice that morning and had quit. "What do you mean she has given her notice? where is she then?" I asked her. She did not know but told me not to worry and not to call back there again. Well that is terrible customer service, maybe I should report that I thought. I didn't...instead just hung up in a state of complete confusion. I felt really uneasy for a few days and sent her several emails asking her to call me that I was worried. What if they had killed her? or kidnapped her. Eventually she got back to me 2 days later in an email asking me not to contact her and that she was sorting out her life. Ok...ok...ok...but what is happening? surely you could tell me that I thought. We spent the next few days speaking through email, her giving very little information out, me as inquisitive as ever. I was waiting for her to give me a code for danger, I genuinely thought they had hurt her or done something to her. I could tell she didn't want to tell me anything, she just said she was staying with her auntie near the countryside. It was all getting silly, I started getting paranoid thinking she was with someone else. I went through the craziest emotions, you get the idea. I decided to send her a link to some silly love song. "Baby this reminds me of us...please listen" I wrote under it. When she clicked on the link I got the approximate location of her whereabouts. It stated that she was in Ecuador, what the actual fuck. They had sent her away to an entire different country. We spent the next 1-2 months just writing emails back and forth. There was no trust so we both had our super insecure moments. Me accusing her of doing some shit behind my back, her lying about previous partners, her trying to find things on me. It was the worst time in both of our love lives, ever. Eventually we broke it off and went our separate ways after great difficulty. I didn't want to let her go, not until I was sure she was fine. Till today I still did not get any answers, about what actually happened but I am over it now. It was an experience I had to go through to understand love. The only issue was I fell in love with a girl she played out to be, a girl she tried to act out with the use of all the information she had collected about me.

She hit me back a couple weeks later pretending to be her auntie. Sending me emails asking me to not contact her again. It did not make sense, we had already said our goodbyes. I did not need another farewell. It ended right there and then. Once I realized that it was not really her who I loved, that it was all a mirage, I moved on. That took several months and occupied a lot of pain. Not eating, sleeping, working and almost messing up my entire degree. I hooked up with a few girls during the recovery period but it did not feel right. Nothing more than just physical temptations. I had been through too much shit in life from a young age, I needed to find some stability. Should my financial situation had been better surely it would have worked out, or would have gone further. Living under one roof in a small bedroom did not ease our problems. I told myself at the end of it all that I would improve my finances before falling into another relationship. Final year of university was the worst. I had literally scraped myself through the second year then took a gap year to relax. It was hardly relaxing having had gone through a very toxic relationship, so starting the third year felt like even more work. I was mentally and physically exhausted, how was I suppose to focus on my studies having had no breaks whatsoever. Not to mention waiting to pass and receive my degree and all of the hassle I would need to go through to find work. Then working 9-5 for the rest of my life with 28 days holiday a year. I guess it would have been possible if my up bringing was easier. I mean the council moved my mother around 12 times. We lived in different neighborhoods and I went to 4 different schools, primary and secondary. I found it hard growing up let alone everything else. I just needed to make enough money to get away. Find a career I enjoyed or start a business which would make me a substantial amount of money in order to escape. So I spent one night speaking to my boy on the phone, discussing music. I was contemplating entering back into that industry and he was encouraging me like always. It was not an easy road I had no connections in that department. I had met people for all kinds of shit, but somehow did not manage to organise a collection of music contacts. That would have been the real deal really. Suddenly an idea hit me about making an app. A friendship app which allows two people to meet each other based on personality and psychological traits. It was revolutionary and although there were other similar apps, they did not have the same execution. I managed to gather a few of my friends and signed them up as shareholders. Each paid £1 for 1% of the company. I gave away around 20% of the entire business, we sat around for hours thinking of ideas, each placing their input. We were all really motivated and I took it one step further when I designed a professional prototype. The functions and features didn't really work but it showed how it would run. I went out to central frequently with my boy but not for selling anything, instead speaking to random people. I wanted to find contacts in that field. We would drink near a computer place in Shoreditch and speak to anyone coming out. They would look hesitant as to why we were approaching them, clearly we did not look like computer guys. When I did explain the app concept they would look shocked, as if they had judged us as 'road men' before we even spoke. I found one guy who was working in some computer networking job and got him to join the company. He explained how he was having a hard time dealing with bullies at work, and overall guys giving him a hard time on a night out. He said how in the bars and clubs they would outshine him and take the girls he was interested in. He looked very awkward, from the way he stood to the way he expressed himself. I thought I could help him gain some confidence in exchange for his connections and skills. Once we had gotten everyone to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements, and me protectively showing them the prototype everyone seemed fully convinced that we would make it. Whoever saw the app was really impressed and said that if it was out that they would use it frequently. I even signed up an Australian girl I met on a night out. I was back working for the property management company, the one I was doing from home. I would get keys to these random apartments around central London. Most times me and a couple of my boys would pull girls back there. We would pretend that we had really high paid jobs and that we were sent there on a business meeting from Dubai. As soon as they entered they would all be willing. It was comical really, the lengths they went once they believed we were on high salaries. We would then do the laundry, clean everywhere and lock up in time for the next guest. I took this Australian girl back there one night and told her about the app. To be honest my intentions were something different, but she seemed smart so I told her after getting her to sign some form. She seemed really impressed and wanted to join us. Bizarrely she was not up for anything that night. We got really close but she held back. I think she thought I would let her go should she have gone the whole way. This was her way of keeping a position in the company, very smart. Although I was sexually frustrated I needed her more for building, besides that team was a cock fest. We needed at least a girl or two in order to gain a different insight on the app. She came and met the other guys and we all created a WhatsApp group for communicating. Once the prototype had been perfected, and me copyrighting what I could, we planned on getting it to Google. Our aim was to sell the prototype to either Google, Facebook or Microsoft. It was incredibly hard finding contact numbers for these places. So like some idiots we thought we could just go to the headquarters and speak to them directly. We started off with Google in King's Cross.

Me and my main shareholder Daniel wore our fancy business attires and made our way to Google. We practiced our pitch and saved everything on a USB for demonstration. We had both done sales before and could approach random people with ease. The idea was to offer them a small share of the company if in return they could line us up with the big guys, the sharks. When we got there things were very different. Most of the employees exiting said they did not have links to the decision makers. One girl was interested in Daniel and so he took her number. I told him to get close to her in order to get her contacts, maybe even bring her in too. The Australian girl was getting bored being the only female in the group. As a company we did not want to come across sexist. After a significant amount of time 'flirting' and 'getting to know' the girl, Daniel could not find any contacts. The girl seemed more interested in what we were doing than offering any help. She said she only had a few emails for managers, most of which did not reply back to her enquiries. The ones that did said they did not have authority to make decisions, instead referred us to Google Startups, a place to receive investments and gain interest on small time businesses. The only problem with using Google Startups was the fact that we did not have a patent. Patents take a significant amount of time to get, not to mention a huge cost to attain. This meant anyone being able to see the idea and change it to their advantage with Google Startups. We had to keep it as hidden as possible. The app was designed in a way which required a large pool of customers before launch. It was not something we could implement and use ourselves. Due to the lack of resources and clientele, the customers would not get accurate matches and therefore would stop using the app overall. It could only be done directly with the big sharks like Google, Facebook or Microsoft. They had enough users signed up to launch a project like ours. So Google wasn't any help to us and so we decided to give Facebook a go. Again me and Daniel made our way to the headquarters in Tottenham Court Road. I did most of the talking and even met a guy who worked in quite a high position there. He said he was not going to give out his phone number, instead took my email and reassured me that he would 'write' to us. We knew he wouldn't and that felt like a massive loss. He was just what we needed. From my understanding plenty of monkeys had already tried entering that place in order to promote their business ideas. The security were very much on job and would turn us away if we even went close to the entrance. "Have you got a meeting scheduled?" they would ask. Once we said no then they would point to the exit. I can't blame them, others probably took some silly ideas over there and ruined it for the rest of us. Probably some stupid app about the best ketchup brands in town and where to find them or some shit. Here we had something we were all dedicated to and believed in greatly and no one around to hear us out. One of the other shareholders said he would find us an investor in Switzerland, apparently he had family there. The networking guy said he could gather up boys to make the actual app. The Australian girl wasn't doing much so I dropped her. She would just come to every other meeting agreeing with everything and putting in the slightest input. Not to mention her constant requests for money in order to cover her travel expenses. She clearly didn't understand what we were trying to achieve. In the end there were only 3 of us left. We even tried Microsoft but got the same result, you could only attend by interview and need to know someone in the company. Why did they make it so hard? What if we had the cure for cancer, would we have to go through all of this to help mankind? What a joke we thought. We had actual gold on our hands, a system so advanced trying to steal it or copy it would be complicated. Not everyone would understand the psychology behind it. Eventually the only investors we found were requesting a very large percentage for our requested amount, so I told them to piss off. No offence but they were taking the liberties. They knew we needed money and were literally robbing us, well robbing me of my percentages. Eventually the team sort of put everything on hold. I decided to do my music in order to gain recognition and maybe promote the app idea in the future.

Working from home for that property management company was getting so tiring. I was getting anxious and needed to be outdoors more. Due to the lengths spent at home answering emails, I felt nervous around the public, as if I had become anti-social. I did not like it and had to find another role which involved more human contact. I found myself going out on the weekends again in order to remain the social person I am. I no longer wanted to be selling silly Paracetamol to drunk heads, instead wanted to meet new people and find new connections. One night I made around £300 unintentionally. One of the boys I use to work with encouraged me to just hustle for the night. We made a great deal of income that night, even with me putting in the slightest input. It felt like free money and so at the end of it all I decided to give the casino another try. Worst case I would lose all of it anyway, what's the big deal, its shit income anyway. I prefer my money clean with the use of my abilities rather than scavenging. That night in the casino everything was going my way. I was winning very large amounts at a time. Besides, I was drunk so I did not know what was happening. The casino feeling extremely generous was continuously offering me money. I would hit on the main bets and win big on the sides. I went up to around £14,000 and left around 8 in the morning with it all. I think the casino was giving back a small amount of what I had lost. I helped one senior homeless man and bought him clothes from head to toe. Got him a pack of smokes and gave him £50 cash for food. He was really grateful and showed it openly with hugs. I felt better but I still had a lot of money at hand. Due to all the psychological problems I had faced over the last few years, maybe it was time to enjoy myself a bit. It felt like free money anyway. So I found this cab driver and paid him £200 for the entire day. He was set to drive us around until midnight, wherever we wanted to go. I called one of my boys and told him to jump in. We then made our way to the shopping center and bought some clothes. He encouraged me to book a luxury apartment in London Bridge right opposite The Shard. I had no money in my bank account and we needed to place down a £300 deposit for the apartment. We made our way back to the Casino with the aims of finding someone to transfer us money online. I spoke to one girl who transferred the entire £300 and I gave her £500 in exchange. At first she thought the money was fraudulent but after getting the notes checked all she wanted to do was chill with us. Acting like she cared about our expenses or had genuine love for me. "You need to be careful with your money, did you win big or is this your savings?" she asked eagerly. I knew where she was going with it all. She probably found the mule she was looking for. I just took her number and left, she seemed very disappointed. We spent the money on drinks, girls and clothes. The apartment was very luxurious, it cost me £500 a night and I booked it for 3 nights. I won every time I went in the casino, I think in those three days I made around £20,000 and spent it all. It did not feel right having that money in my hands, it felt worthless. So we spent it like it didn't mean anything. My friend just kept calling girls over, weird numbers and agencies. I would come out of the shower and there was one of them there saying some stupid shit. Wanting to spend the 'night' with us for literally peanuts. We came across like some young ballers and they were in love. Not really in love with us rather the money and environment. At the end of the 3 days we all left that place with literally nothing. An experience nonetheless, and I guess it motivated us to change our financial goals. Not for the girls and luxuries, but for the convenience and comfortability the money brought. We forgot about all our troubles momentarily.

Me and a group of my friends were chilling in South London, Vauxhall trying to make some income. Well they were, me I was just staying out the house. I had reduced my hours for that property management job from 22 hours a week to only 12-14 hours. This allowed me more time outdoors in the open air. The boys were discussing fighting techniques and strategies of defense. "Na...if he comes at you...you need to do this...ahhh…then you floor him with the right kick" one of them said demonstrating some weird made up fighting move. As if any one knew what they were talking about. So I got a little too excited and told them that I could kick over 6ft high. In my poor attempt to show this kick I severely injured myself, the groin area. After the kick I felt incredible pain as if I had ripped a muscle. I could barely walk straight and needed someone to somewhat carry me. "Are you ok bro?" they asked. I just nodded even though I was definitely not ok. I tried to cross the road to get to an ATM and met a girl waiting at the traffic lights. She wanted to cross over too and so I asked her if she could support me as we made our way on the zebra crossing. "Are you ok?" she asked. I explain how it was a sporting injury and that I needed to go to the ATM. We got talking and met another random guy who invited us back to his place. We had plans of going to some club after pre-drinks. I walked with her the entire journey to this guys house, getting to know her better. She told me that she was a model and that she was originally from Barbados. When we got to the guys house he brought us some drinks. I laid on the bed with the girl talking about silly things, attempting to make her laugh. "Wait what kind of model are you again" I asked. "A model babes, just a model" she responded with very little information. It was clear she was not ready to give out much. We never did end up going to the club, instead sat on some benches talking and helping out some homeless man. I was feeling pretty lucky that night and had a feeling she would come back to mine. So when she asked "Is there anyone at yours?" I knew what time it was. There were people at mine, well just my mum, but surely I could sneak her in somehow. I told her that she needs to keep it down and that we could stay in my room. Throughout the cab journey back we got talking about her career. She explained how she was making almost £300 a night some nights. Wait is this girl an escort? should I even ask? Fuck it, its best not to know. When we got to mine we just chilled and entertained ourselves. We went to bed and she ended up staying over at mine for 3 days. My mother asked who was in the house, I just told her it was one of my boys. She found that slightly weird but it was better than telling her the truth. Should I have said it was a girl she would have wanted to meet her and it would have all turned too complicated. She ordered us food and we stayed indoors for the entire 3 days. I liked her personality. She was very basic in terms of emotions but had her own unique style. Everything she said was with the same tone of voice, regardless how emotional the conversation got. This was somewhat entertaining for me. Eventually I decided to ask her exactly what type of model she was. "I work for a company called Babestation" she responded calmly. Wait a minute...is that considered modelling? I did not know how to react to that. She told me that she was not on the live channel and could only be seen online on the website. She was not my girlfriend so I guess it was ok. Nonetheless I never expected that response. We planned to meet a second time, and so I got us a little picnic from a supermarket, Waitrose. I told her to meet me in Alexandra Palace, a place with nice views and a lot of greenery. We met in the evening and drank wine as we spoke about our lives. I explained about my past and how I was trying my best to better myself. I even tried to get her onto a platform in order for her to grow her Instagram following. "If you manage to get a lot of followers you can stop doing modelling and become an Instagram character" I said informatively. My aim was to help her better her life in some aspects. I showed her an app called Periscope and told her to write her Instagram @ on her profile to increase her followers. We went on Live a few times and she seemed to like the atmosphere. She stayed at mine another 2 nights and we got really close. I did not like the pace we were moving, I found it hard getting close to a girl working in that profession. So when she randomly started calling me throughout the day I felt extremely uncomfortable. Without being judgmental it was sexy and all, but the thought of having my 'future' girlfriend working on an adult channel wasn't too enticing. What would I tell my family, that my girl worked on Babestation. I tried my best not to come across hurtful but when we met for the 3rd time I had to tell her my views on the situation. "Look babe I know you are a model but you need to try to get popular on Instagram so you can stop the adult channel stuff" I said nervously. I didn't know how she would react. Clearly she did not like what I was saying and turned super defensive. I decided to let it go and continue interacting with her normally, regardless of her profession. It worked for a short period but her work was effecting me. Some nights she would call me during her breaks. We would joke around and laugh normally, but then she would say she had to go. One guy in the background informing her that she was set to go live in 5 mins. I even watched her online a couple times. Don't get me wrong it was sexy as hell, but it just didn't feel right. I was starting to like the girl for who she was, but her job was ruining all the emotions I felt. The best thing I could have done was leave her a voice note to explain my concerns. In the voice note I told her that I could not see a future with her and that we were just wasting our time. She responded very angrily and asked why I had an issue with her type of work. That it was just a job and not like she was sleeping with anyone. She clearly did not get my concerns or understand the help I was trying to offer. Regardless of her profession, she came across like an amazing partner. She was very honest and caring. I even managed to get some emotions out of her which was refreshing. It all concluded with a few "You dickhead fuck off, you judgmental hairy shit" voice notes. Yes thanks for that, maybe I needed that. She said she liked the love rug? oh who cares...its best left the way it is. So it ended abruptly. She messaged me some weird meme a few days later but I asked her not to contact me again. I followed her discreetly on socials. From my understanding she went on some program on E4 and found other means of income . Still not sure if she managed to give up the Babestation stuff, I hope she did for her sake.

Missed assignments, no-attendance in labs and low grades were the least of my problems at university. It was my final year and all I wanted to do was pass the damn thing. I mean even obtaining my degree would have been credible enough given everything I was going through. Most of the boys on campus had built long term friendships with everyone, I would still be treated like a new student in some classes, they just didn't know who I was. For my final year project I decided to find a tutor who knew me, or someone I had spoken to for more than a few seconds. He was fairly new to the role himself, he just wanted to make an impression and seal his place as a full time lecturer. He taught Software Engineering and so he guided me on what to design for the project. I was set to implement a software which allowed various companies access to a whole field of data. The goal was to design something which allocated employees to different jobs. The software would select employees based on their skillset, current location and availability. With the click of one button many employees would be assigned to the most suitable work. A software similar to how Uber finds the closest cab drivers. You could set the timetable for an entire office for the week simultaneously. It was called a Genetic Algorithm and from my understanding it was not an easy field to get into, but I needed high grades as all my other marks were just not good enough. At the beginning Mustafa encouraged me to use an available toolkit and change some aspects of it in order to get the program running. "Can I not invent my own one?" I asked. "Erm...you can but it will be difficult to make. Let's not try to reinvent the wheel" he replied. I just wanted to gain high marks and so I needed something which really stood out. A project which may even end up highlighted in some newsletter or some shit. I've always seen articles on a group of students inventing or discovering something whilst at uni, surely I can put my brain to use and do the same I thought. I spent a significant amount of time learning about Genetic Algorithms, trying to understand the in-depth structure. I ended up neglecting my other studies because of this, but it was okay, knowing high grades gained in the project would make up for the rest. Not the smartest philosophy but it was not a time for detailed planning. I was well over all of that, I needed desperate marks to just pass, so I had to make do with what I had and this project would have saved me big time. With great difficulty I managed to design something very impressive. I watched hours of YouTube tutorials and read up technical aspects online, but I had coded a fully working version of a Genetic Algorithm. This was without the use of a toolkit or any other supporting software. Surely this would give me the grade I needed to pass university I thought. I tested the program many times, it worked. Should I be able to prove that it works, I would surely gain a massive recognition. "Ali you can't do this. This normally takes a group of students who are studying a Masters or Doctorates to invent. You are telling me you have made a fully functional version of a Genetic Algorithm in a few weeks? Doing a Bachelors? and you have coded it all yourself?" Mustafa would say unconvincingly. How demotivating that was. It made me feel small as if I was not able to do such a thing. I knew the program worked and I showed him several times. "Look Mustafa, it works let me run a test real quick...watch this" I would say enthusiastically. He just seemed not interested or unimpressed. It was as if he was fully convinced that I had done something wrong without even checking my work properly. He would glance at the code, run briefly through it and then tell me to use the toolkit already available. What the fuck? What is wrong with this guy? just give some attention to the work. It was as if he didn't understand the code himself, or that it was too complex and he could not be bothered to look through it. He kept asking about my other grades and work which was irrelevant. I knew I had failed some other modules, but I had placed thinking into this one. I decided to speak to another lecturer. I explained how I had invented this and that it worked. He seemed far more impressed and showed me a few ways to test it. Once again the tests proved that it worked. Maybe it was my appearance or the way I carried myself that made them think I was stupid or uneducated. Apparently you need a specific look, style and lifestyle to come across like a computer guy, a hint of road and they would think you either cheated or that the work was wrong. What a fucking shambles. Eventually he completely sidetracked me and got me to use the available toolkit. What a waste of time. Just before I agreed to follow their suggestions I took one of my friends with me to one of the weekly meetings with Mustafa. I wanted him to be a witness on how these people were treating my efforts. He too saw that the lecturer just did not seem to care. That day me and Mustafa almost had a heated argument. I needed the grades so I decided to cut back and listen to him, I mean he was the lecturer end of the day. "Bro these man don't rate you" my boy said after giving out a chuckle. Even he had noticed something was not right. I put all the work aside and followed the instructions set by Mustafa, and used his work as a guideline to push me along. I changed some aspects of the code and managed to get the program running. This did not take long, the toolkit did most of the work. It was for sure an easier way to build the software. Mustafa told me that if I was able to get the program working with the toolkit he recommended that he would give me the 70% I needed for the entire project. As long as my final year report was up to scratch of course. I wrote my report and completed everything in time before submitting. I then placed all my focus on my other studies, trying to prepare myself for the final exams. Trying to take in weeks of work in a few days, what a difficult task that was. In the end I failed a few modules and had to wait for retakes the following year. Mustafa ended up giving me 60% for the final year project, what a prick. First he discouraged me from all my hard work, then sidetracked me, then got me to use his method and still ended up giving me a lower mark than I deserved. That was the day I realized that university was not a place you'd go to invent things or make a change. It was simply about who could take in information the best and then bring that same information out in the exams. Almost like copy and pasting. It did not have much to do with intelligence. It was a business and a system designed to place people into work. Prepare them for a 9-5 lifestyle rather than identifying their true talents. Fuck it...as long as I pass the failed modules in the retakes I should be able to gain my degree. At least I wouldn't fall into a huge debt for absolutely nothing.

My mother practically disowned me after a huge argument. A few broken plates, lots of swearing, screaming and tears. We came to a complete and undisputed conclusion that we simply could not live under the same roof. Something we had previously figured out, when I moved out at the age of 16. She said that either I should leave or that she will find a place for herself. I did not have money and so I could not move out then. The failed modules really upset her, she started seeing me as a failure not understanding how difficult it actually was dealing with everything. Humans are not robots. They have emotions and mental health to deal with. How could someone study when they don't have a clear head space. I mean dealing with her mental state alone was occupying all my thoughts. Trying to hustle to stay afloat and also take in all this information in university, it was near enough an impossible job. It really took a lot out of me to even make it to the final year. She found a room in a shared accommodation in High Barnet and moved there for a week. I knew what her plan was. She wanted to advertise the place to me and eventually get me to move there. The house was nice and it occupied another 4 tenants, 2 of which were also Iranian. The only issue was the WiFi, it was slow as fuck. I could barely watch a United game without a buffering screen. She came back home and I moved there permanently. I had to change the contract to my name first of course. At first I hated it there. My room was quite small and made it hard to bring girls back. Plus the toilet and shower was shared and it made it awkward leaving the room at times. There was a Romanian girl and a Greek man living upstairs with me. I spoke to them briefly they seemed okay. My mother paid in advance a couple months of rent to the agency. This gave me time to try and find some work. I applied for about a week or two and found a role in a contact center. I would answer phones calls and reply back to emails sent by customers. It was working for a popular online supermarket and they gave me a 3 month contract. Initially they said I would probably be able to find a permanent role from that. I built friendships with the guys there and the work was entertaining. We would joke throughout the day and answer calls when they came through. The trainer had a great body, this made learning the basics much easier. I got close to a woman called Lisa too she was a great person, she would give me lifts to and from work. This saved me money on travel. I was able to start contributing to the rent, a huge relief for my mother. I was making around £1,600 a month which was just about above basic wages. It was not the best but it did the job at the time. The floor manager seemed rather intimidated. I think he thought I was after his job. I really wasn't...I was just social and everyone seemed to find me interesting. When he found out I was about to graduate he seemed almost certain that there were no jobs going, and that my work would end at the end of the contract. We would play table tennis during our breaks and buy food from a cheap vending machine. It was an easy job and I built some stability, plus the guys were all fun people. I got close to the guys I was sharing a house with too. One night something almost happened with me and the Romanian girl. I downloaded Rosetta Stone on her laptop to help her improve her English. She brought down some weird fruit alcohol drink and after a couple glasses I tried to shoot my shot. She held back and it was awkward for a few days in the house. I got rejected by a girl I was not that interested in to begin with, what a joke! Blame that Romanian drink not me. We agreed to watch a film together a week later, maybe she wanted to take things slow. In the end we never did end up hooking up even though she lived a few meters away, maybe that was why. Should it have ended like one of my previous encounters it would have made life in that place extremely difficult. Seeing one of your ex's every day in the same house would not be the most pleasant experience. I was making enough money from work to restart my music career. My friend and camera man would persuade me to give it a go, that I would blow given all the songs I had written over the years. Since I was making an income I could afford to do so. I did a little freestyle video a couple weeks after that, the reception was good. I then made a video for my single 'Solo' a short while after. I tried to direct the video to make it appear movie-like. This was all done on a small budget and with a lot of work. My camera man thought it would have been easier to just record a normal music video. In the end the major music channels in the UK rejected it. Apparently it was not appropriate for their channel, even though I had written a disclaimer at the start. Funny really...most these channels promote violent music most times...why my video was rejected I didn't know, maybe it was the quality or budget. My camera-man encouraged me to save more money and invest it into the next video. He knew the quality they were looking for and so I spent less money in order to save for my 'Fuego' track. We were set to hire a car, hire professional lights and order some smoke grenades. This was the most serious I had ever taken my music career. I managed to invest around £1,200 into that video, including upload fees. Luckily one of the UK channels accepted it. It wasn't the major one I wanted, rather the channel which had dramatically died down over the years. Nonetheless LinkUp TV was a known platform and should've given me at least a couple thousand views. I spent around £300 recording my EP and sent it out to the stores too. Seeing my songs on platforms like Apple Music & Spotify really motivated me. I had spent a long time wondering what it would have been like getting my music on those stores. I had gained some eyes on my social media. I was being watched and I knew I had to do something big to stand out. I mean the budget wasn't the best but the attention helped. I decided to record my 'Fuego' beginning scene in Paddington. I spent most of the time in the car lost in deep thoughts, contemplating if music would be the right path for me. Given the uninformed attention I was receiving, I was not sure what to expect. It was as if it was too late too pull out and I had come too far to do so anyway. In the car I felt incredibly anxious, chest pains and shortness of breath. I told the driver to stop the car a couple times, I wanted to go for a walk. I needed a moment to myself away from everyone. These emotions normally occur during my godly experiences and at no other times, so when I tend to feel like that I know there is something on my conscience and I need some time alone. We drove the wrong way after taking a route through Camden Town. At a traffic light in Euston Square I told the driver that I was going to get out, that I needed some air. I took a left, then another left and finally a right. I was just allowing my feet to guide me, I did not know where I was going. My intentions getting into the music industry was to obviously make it financially but also raise awareness for my motherland Iran which was going through a lot of struggle. This whole time walking down strange roads I was thinking if it would be worth it. If it was right to do it and if God would be happy with me. The fight for racial equality is not an easy one, especially when you are coming from a country which has been falsely highlighted in the media for years. A place not many people know much about or the very little information they do have tends to be negative. I came across a building called 'Wellcome' which had a massive display of people from different backgrounds reunited. Right across the road was also a hospital and the driver just happened to land right in front of me without any clue as to where I was going to begin with. At that time I felt far more relaxed as if I was on the right track. Besides, that was the cause I wanted to stand for to begin with. Maybe bring different nations together, maybe in the most fucked up way given most people do not appreciate all that positive shit, or it makes them cringe. Unfortunately a lot of us only appreciate harsh, violent and negative ways of taking in information. So I knew no matter how I did it, it wouldn't be too angelic, I'm far from an angel myself. It would have to be done in a way I knew how, however pure or un-pure it is. We completed the video and I made my way back home that night. I randomly pressed play on Spotify and a song came up. It was called 'Heavenly Walk' and had a picture of a man under a white light. I was almost certain I was on the right path then or the beginning of the right path. The video did not have the best reception statistically, but I knew all those things were controlled. I hit around 5-6k views which was decent given the platform I had placed it on. It was time to start planning for the next song, and I needed to save more money. My work contract was ending at the call center so I had to find more work and fast.

The next video was set to be recorded in a months time. Me and the camera man contemplated which song to do next and we agreed that the 'City Lights Freestyle' would be the most appropriate. As I was convinced that I was completely on the right track nothing bothered me, I had no fears whatsoever. As long as I knew I was guided everything was set. Besides, I had experienced these 'godly' events many times before at different intervals. I managed to find work in my local council, working for Barnet finding people homes. Normally the people who would come in were either homeless, had children or needed to move accommodation. I spent the first couple days learning some basics in regards to housing and eviction notices. On the third day I called in to say I would be absent as I didn't feel too well, the next day I got told that they had dropped me. That they found it unacceptable to be absent in the first week. I thought that was a bit harsh. A couple days later Corona (covid-19) hit London so it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. The outbreak had everyone losing their jobs and most people spending time at home, so I did not feel alone. I spent a lot of time writing songs and socializing with my other house mates, the Iranian ones. Growing up I never did have really close Iranian friends, especially ones who had moved abroad recently. They were deeply engraved in the Persian culture and so I was exchanging some life experiences with them. They would go to work still but I spent a lot of time indoors searching for work. I applied to many many places. I needed to make money to keep the music going, it was vital. We managed to get rid of the other two house mates living in the property. The Greek guy would constantly moan about us being too loud or listening to music around midnight. He must have had super sonic ears, honestly he would moan about a 20 out of 100 volume bar. He would then knock on one of the boys rooms and tell us to keep it down. In the end I disconnected his WiFi and we managed to get rid of him. Thank god for university teaching me that, very useful tool. "Do you know what's happened to the WiFi mate?" he asked me the following day. To which I replied that the agency must have not paid the bills and that we were all going through the same shit. I know it was harsh, but it had to be done. He was ruining all the fun in that house. This left the two Iranian boys having the whole of downstairs to themselves and me having upstairs all to myself. 3 of us in that massive house what a great experience, we were all very comfortable. The Romanian girl faded just before Corona hit, still not sure what happened to her. She just vanished in thin air one day. Maybe we should have reported her missing to someone. I'm sure she is fine...hopefully. As the whole nation was having a rough time finding work, or everyone was out of work on benefits, my camera man said he would do my next video for free. All I had to do was pay for the upload fee on the channel. I decided to make the video as basic as possible, but same time engaging. The idea was me walking down a dark alley near some horse staples rapping the entire journey. A few effects here and there and it should look rather entertaining. We were set to record it in a weeks time. The only issue was I had recently signed up for governmental benefits, covering my housing costs, and the agency kept pestering me to pay my rent arrears I was 2 months behind. This meant that I would not be able to fund my upload fee for the channel. With the video being set to be recorded in a weeks time, I decided to tell the agency that I could not pay that months rent neither. We had an argument over the phone and I ended up speaking quite rudely to one of the guys. "Bro it is Corona time, what do you want me to do. I will pay please don't worry just give me some time" I told him affirmatively. He was convinced that I had been paid and that I was dodging them on purpose. Yes he was right...I only dodged the 1 month...the other 2 I was not paid, but I needed the money to keep my business afloat. Besides the government had set out clear rules to landlords and agencies not to bother tenants during the pandemic, so what was this guy on about? He should have just let me be. I managed to do the video and get it uploaded on LinkUp TV once again. The major channel in the UK rejected me for a second time, for whatever reason. People liked this video, and appreciated the simplicity of it all. Besides, the song had meaning and the tempo and energy was on point. With no work and income coming my way any time soon, I had to try and find a way to keep the music alive. This was not an easy task, I literally applied for 500-600 jobs with hardly any replies. I couldn’t hustle because of the curfew and most of the weed dealers were already complaining about a lack of customers and product. This left me home doing pretty much nothing, like most of the others. So when the agency randomly called us one day and informed us that we would be moving into separate accommodations for a week, we found it very odd. We were convinced that their aims were to separate us or kick us out, but after doing some research we understood that it was not possible to do so, especially during corona time. Apparently they needed us out in order to do some ground work in the back yard. After a couple weeks of persuasion and many many phone calls later, we all agreed to move out for the week. They placed me in a property about 5 mins away. The other two got moved to North Finchley and Hendon. We left most of our items in a van outside the house, we only took essentials. I was sharing the house with 3 other people. A women in her late 40s and two boys pretty much around the same age as me. I spent the week in the spacious back garden talking to the woman who had a great interest in cats. She would feed them whenever they came over. The other boys were keen on making friends. I think they wanted me to stay there. Apparently the tenant before me was loud or something, but I had no aims of remaining. I was just trying to see the week out and go back to the High Barnet house with the other 2. I liked it over there. I got a call from one of the boys saying that the agency had plans of kicking me out. That I was taking the piss not paying up the 3 months of rent I owed. Clearly they seemed unaware that we had a pandemic on our hands, there was little I could do. When I found out I asked them to pick me up. The guys from the agency made an appearance the next day, they seemed shocked to find me there. They asked the other 2 why they had let me in, to which they replied "He had a key". Idiots...of course I had a key...what was they thinking? so they asked me to leave. They took all of our things out the van and left my stuff by the car. Apparently I could return to the other property, where I had stayed for the past week. I explained that they were not allowed to legally remove me. That they had to give me written notice, something I had learnt working for the council. They shrugged off my objections and asked me to go. That I should call the police but they wouldn't be able to do much. They were right, the police did not seem to care. Instead told me to sort it out myself. I waited for a little while and once the guys from the agency left I just went back in. This time I placed everything back in my room. I told one of the boys to call the Police and tell them that I was causing a disturbance. That I had been aggressive and was breaking plates. He made the call. I then went to the kitchen and smashed 2-3 plates, all of which were mine. When the police came they seemed more confused than anything. They asked if I had touched someone, or broken anything in the property. When they found out that in was in fact my plates, and that I had not forced my way in and actually had a key, there was little they could do. Instead gave me further information about the law. They agreed that the agency had no right kicking me out in the first place. I told one of the boys to film them and show it to the agency as evidence. I went upstairs and slept like a baby, it was an exhausting day. When the owner of the agency came by to check up on us the next day, he was for sure not expecting to see my room locked from the inside. He woke me up with loud knocks. "Ali...open the door please...quickly please" he shouted. I just tried to ignore him and went back to bed. He ran downstairs and knocked the other two. They told him that I had made my way back myself and that the police had agreed with me. I think he ran up and down the stairs a few times, it was all too comical. So I decided to open the door to him. "What are you doing back? no...no...pack your things please" he asked dominantly. I just explained how he had no right kicking me out and asked for my written notice. He wasn't sure how to react, instead muffled something under his breath as he made his way out. I mean I wasn't really taking the piss. I had paid all of the rent before all this Corona stuff. It wasn't my fault that I was out of work due to a global pandemic. In the end we came to an agreement that I would pay up 1 month worth of rent and that I could stay there, happy days!

I spent the next few months applying for work, living off peanuts and trying to stay afloat. The other boys kept teasing me about being out of work. As if I wanted to live like that. It was not my fault nothing was coming up. I needed to make a change in order to keep my aspirations alive. I would spend most of my time ordering takeaways and watching silly movies. Writing songs and chilling in the garden. In the night I would visit one of the boys rooms downstairs and play FIFA with him on the PlayStation. We would then go to sleep or he would call his girl and ask me if I could leave. She did not seem too happy about us being friends, I guess she wanted him to settle down and saw me as an obstacle in their path. It felt as if I was in prison just wasting my time again. It really was survival, making a small amount of money last and hustling what I could online. I would visit my mother a couple days in the week to check if she was okay. I would sleep incredibly late and some nights I would sit in the garden under a tree meditating like an old man. It all seems funny now but that was life at that time. I did manage to invite a few girls over every now and then, they kept me company. The only issue was the size of the room. One of them would come round too often and I did not enjoy sharing my space with her too much. Don't get me wrong she was good company at times, but I needed some alone time and I didn't trust her much. She had a big circle and I just did not know who she chilled with. Her and the boys downstairs would smoke weed pretty much most nights. I would try to avoid it but occasionally I would take a few tokes. I would then embark on a spiritual journey for an hour or two. I would leave the group and get lost in deep thoughts somewhere in the garden or in my room alone. If anyone tried to enter I would just tell them to piss off. It's funny really...I started smoking from a young age. I smoked for over a decade. Back then it use to just make me laugh and feel chilled out. Now when I smoke it I end up having deep and psychological experiences. A small amount is good every now and then, it brings me closer to my life purpose. Most times I end up communicating with god even after a few tokes. The experiences feel surreal and magical. By communicate I don't mean we speak verbally, that would be silly, I mean I feel his presence. One night I smoked a joint with the girl and the two guys. A few moments later I left the room and made my way to the garden. The others knew what was happening and they left me to it. I sat on one of the chairs next to the tree with a white garden light shining on me. Very similar to the picture on the Spotify song 'Heavenly Walk' it felt really weird. I could feel myself becoming anxious and asked god to help me during the hard times. I felt this energy over me which freaked me out big time. I tried to keep myself composed but it was hard. I honestly believed that I was about to die, as if my heart would just stop. It was as if he was watching over me and so I tried to come up with excuses to justify why I was the way I am. Excuses for my wrongdoings and my bad habits. It was very hard to come up with anything. I was left speechless. I simply could not find any words to explain myself. It was as if all my brain cells had shut down. I kept trying to speak but nothing was coming out. I understood then that it is almost impossible to try and fool yourself or him. No matter how intelligent you are you just won't be able to speak. It was as if he knew exactly what I felt within and knew all my intentions without me needing to explain myself. This made me feel vulnerable and unable to hide from myself. I left the garden and went to my room the others asked if I was okay. I didn't want to see anyone and walked up the stairs quickly without responding. The girl works closely with an Iranian artist who is very famous in the middle east. He has tattoos all across his face and body. He is a very controversial artist in Iran. Many dislike him because of all of the ink he has, also he swears and does drugs so they see him as a bad influence on kids. For years he has been the voice for the Persians, seeking freedom from the world, asking other nations to acknowledge Iran's suffering. As I laid on my bed I had a very strange vision. There was a painting in my room drawn by my mother. It was a beach with palm trees with the sun going down in the rear. I stared at the painting and suddenly the artist appeared to me. He was standing with his hands in the air, very distressed face asking for help. He looked in pain and it was as if he was crying out to me. He happens to have the same sun tattooed on his forehead. After seeing this vision I went downstairs to tell the others. It was really crazy I felt so confused. I literally saw this man right in front of my eyes. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. It felt like me and him were communicating from a distance. He made a lot of mistakes in his career. Said many things he shouldn't have, did things the media and public disliked, but right then and there I fully understood his intentions. It was good, and his cries for help reached me out of all people. I remember thinking why me and how any of this was possible. The boys downstairs did not seem too convinced, only the girl reacted. She explained how the artist himself had experienced similar things. Not sure what all of this stuff is but it all seems too coincidental. I mean I am sure science can find some answers for them. Something about the brain or some shit, neurons or some other technical explanation, for me it is all godly. Too many times similar events have taken place for any of it to be coincidental. Most people would be freaked out reading all this stuff, I mean if someone told me about these experiences I would find it hard to understand. Maybe this is gods way of showing us everyone can be reached as long as they are seeking it.

People kept asking when the next video or song would be coming out. It was starting to get a bit too much. I did not have the finances to fund the music career and so I had to think of making a dramatic move. Maybe I should leave the country to seek for work. Given all of the struggles I faced over the last 24 years in the UK, maybe a completely new environment would open up my mind. Surely more opportunities would come by somewhere else. Due to Covid-19, universities were unable to hold exams. I still had a degree pending. All I had to do was pass the retakes and that should allow me to gain the degree I so desperately needed. So when an email reached me randomly early in the year, I felt extremely hopeful. The exams were set to be done online out of campus. This meant I should almost certainly be able to pass all of them. Given all of the resources at hand, and the vast amount of information online. I managed to complete all of the exams within a few days and submitted them through the portal. I dragged myself a month or two, trying to make money for food and travel until finally I received a notification that I had passed my Bachelors. This was a massive relief for my family and myself of course. This fucking degree took blood, sweat and tears to gain, literally. I was starting to get depressed staying at home, and with no money I could not go out much. I signed up for a gym nearby and would attend every other day with the boys. I believed that the degree would give me a massive bonus for finding work. I had plans of finding something full time to make enough to invest into my business. My social media had discreetly reached a high level of popularity, with key players acknowledging me even. This gave me the impetus to go on. Unfortunately no work was coming up I applied for so many roles. I tried to be ambitious and started off applying for Managing Director positions. Nothing came up. I then went for Manger roles, but similar results. So in the end when I went for assistant positions, and even cleaning roles, and when nothing still came up, I was almost certain that the government had something to do with my problems. It felt as if they were restricting me from making it, as if they wanted to keep me caged. I mean I had a Bachelors degree from a respectable university surely something should give. The boys thought I had gone mad, acting like they did not see what I was on about. I knew I was being watched by many people but everyone acted blind. My followers should have been much higher than it was, my views should have been greater, and for sure I should have been handed a great opportunity. Instead here I was being ignored for the lowest of positions in any company. Something was not adding up. The money I was receiving was not enough. I mean £800 for rent, food, travel and living is a real squeeze. I started playing Poker online in order to make some money to go out and have a bit of fun. I was starting to go crazy in the house. Walking up and down the stairs for absolutely no reason. I lost in Poker most times and when I fucked up my rent money, and when it led to me being 3 months behind on rent again, the agency simply asked me to move out. The Corona excuse wasn't working anymore. I started exploring countries to move to, to start fresh in. There were many I looked at but I wanted to go somewhere which just felt different. The Asian countries were a big shout along with the US and Russia. My visa-waiver application for the US was declined probably because I was born in Iran. I then tried to look at gaining a tourism visa but the embassy in London was only holding emergency appointments which meant only native Americans can get something. I knew I would be strapped for cash moving to those places, but I felt optimistic and would find a hostel or two to stay in temporarily if needed. In the end I decided to go to Japan they did not require a visa with a British passport. I mean it was the home of technology and based on the reviews I received I was excited for sure. I made a formal decision and pushed myself to book a ticket as soon as my Universal Credit payment reached my account, completely unaware of the travel restrictions set out due to Covid-19. Apparently I needed a test done 72 hours before the flight and also some countries were simply not accepting foreigners at that time. I decided to call the airline to ask. The woman I spoke to seemed certain that I would be granted access in Tokyo, and that all that was required was a Corona test up to 3 days before the flight. I booked the test and got my friend to take me. The results came a couple days after and in time for the flight, negative of course. I said my goodbyes to my family and friends packed a small suitcase and made my way to Heathrow airport. This left me having to give the keys to the house to one of the boys to hold. I was giving up my accommodation with this move. The rent money went on booking the flight and hotel. I knew I could not go back and so I had to just continue moving forward. I recorded a few videos for my social media on the way there in order to keep everyone in the loop, they were quite comical. When I got to the airport I headed for check-in and gave the guy my tickets and passport. "Is this all you have? as in do you not have any other paperwork?" he asked casually. "No...I have done my Corona test if you want to see" I replied. I showed him the results on my phone he did not even look at it properly. He seemed more concerned about something else. "Erm...I hate to break it to you but I don't think you can go to Japan. Let me take another look" he said. What the fuck does that mean? How could they stop me from going there when the airline said it was fine. He checked a list of countries and travel restrictions on his computer. It turned out that Japan was simply not accepting any tourists or non natives at that time. This meant the airline could not let me on. "I'm sorry I can't let you on this flight. If you get to Japan and they refuse you we will face a fine, yourself included. So at this moment Japan is closed" he said so calmly. What the actual fuck?!? What annoyed me was the way he said it rather than what he was saying. It was not all happy days, I had packed everything and even handed my keys back. I had no where else to go. He gave me a customer service number to call to gain a refund or to try and divert the destination of the flight to another country. I did not want to go anywhere else and had even learnt some basic Japanese. When I spoke to the operator she apologized and we looked at a list of countries I would be able to go to. One of the key ones was South Korea. They were accepting people but I had to go through quarantine set out by the government. Apparently I needed to stay in an accommodation provided by them for 2 weeks, not to mention the cost of this place and the money having to come out of my own pocket. Around £900 for the 2 weeks to just stay in a room somewhere, quite pointless taking a Corona test then...what difference did that make? Fucking joke. It was either that or a couple African countries like Egypt and Botswana. A couple South American countries were also accepting foreigners such as Brazil and Mexico but visas were needed for those places. I just ended up staying in the UK and made my way to central London.

I decided to call my mother when I got to central London. I needed somewhere to stay and already dreaded the conversation more than anything. We could not live under the same roof, we both knew it but it was vital as I needed somewhere to go. When I spoke to her on the phone she already knew what I wanted to say. I told her that I had handed the keys back and that I was behind on rent. I had not told her before about me being behind on rent because I knew her reaction would be negative. So when I broke it to her she went absolutely ballistic. She started screaming calling me a liar and hysterically jumping up and down. It was clear that she was losing it but I did not lie. I was genuinely behind on rent I just didn't tell her before because I knew something like that would come about. She said I could not go back there and that I was no longer her son. That made me feel like shit and I stood in the city center with my suitcase just thinking about it all. I mean looking back at everything it was clear that the system had beaten me down. I had given everything to improve my life and yet here I was with no where to go once again. All because I wanted to maintain my character and persona instead of blending into the norm. Why could they just not accept me for who I was? Why try so hard to diminish my identity? These fucking people. All my life all I've ever wanted to do was seek freedom. Freedom from losing myself and being gifted with the ability to do what made me happy, what I was truly skilled in. All these talents and no where to place them it was just a waste adapting to a system which drained me mentally. I mean maybe temporarily to make some income to pursue my ambitions, but a lifetime of desk work was so not me. People don't understand the difficulty in fighting for your rights. Most just accept rather than seek improvements. Was I becoming some type of freedom fighter? maybe I would go down in history or some shit...not that any of that shit matters to me. I mean I would much rather receive my flowers whilst I'm alive. Eyes all over me yet no one wanted to give me a chance to show what I can do. Instead they would just watch the struggles and obstacles in my path, most of which were unnatural obstacles set out by the system. There is no such thing as luck. If you knock down enough doors one is bound to open, but when no doors are opening and you have tried many routes then something unnatural is happening. You need stop blaming yourself and start looking at external matters. People wouldn't understand when they've had it easy. They would just blame you or say you haven't worked hard enough or you are lazy. This makes them feel better about themselves or feel accomplished, knowing damn well that your journey had been significantly harder than theirs for sure. My work resume was amazing, experiences in the field of Sales, IT and Customer Care. A whole life of socializing with different people from different backgrounds, learning about cultures and communication overall. Many talents and abilities, yet a cleaning job was hard to come by for me. Then people would turn around and say that I have not tried hard enough, or that I am unlucky or some other type of bullshit. Over worked, under paid and gifted in a broken wheel. I remember thinking all of this walking in the back streets in central. A girl called me randomly and I emptied myself mentally, it was nice having someone to listen. I continued to walk and talk to her on the phone once again unaware of where I was heading. When I ended the call I stood facing two buildings on the other side of the road in Covent Garden. One of them was called 'The Escapologist' which means an entertainer specializing in freeing themselves from the confinement of such things as ropes, handcuffs, and chains. That made so much sense to me, that is exactly what I was an Escapologist. The building right next to that one was called 'Fly London' with a symbol of a fly. The funny thing is I had uploaded a picture on my Instagram of me looking up at a light, the light being my ideas. I wrote this caption under that picture "I was looking at this fly circulating the light bulb. I was thinking whether I should kill it but it got bored and left itself". It all made sense to me right there and then. I was the Escapologist and the flies were the people trying to ruin my ideas and aspirations. Thank you god for making it clear to me I needed that.

I called one of the boys to ask him if he had given the keys back to the agency. Luckily they had not and so I made my way there for the night. I spoke to the owner of the agency and apologized for not being able to come up with the rent. "Ali I heard you was going to Japan? what is that about?" he asked somewhat confused. I explained how I was going there to find work in order to pay him back the arrears which was true. We managed to come to an agreement and he informed me that I could stay the night there. I was completely exhausted as you would be dragging your suitcase around London the entire day. I met up with the boys back in the house and managed to get some sleep eventually. The next day I called him to discuss the repayments. He told me that I had till Tuesday to come up with the money, which was around 4 days away. It was near enough impossible to do so I had no source of income obviously. I spent the next few days trying to identify where my next destination would be. I looked at countries within the EU, ones which did not require a visa. I wanted to learn about the prospects in these countries, if it would be possible to find some stability and if the economy was strong enough. The decision came to move away before Tuesday, the owner said I should do so if I could not come up with the rent. Ireland was an easy choice. They were independent, it was a different country but still felt like the UK. Besides, it was close enough to head back when I felt the need to. I read up about the economy and from my understanding it was on the rise. I expected to find work more easily there and I needed to start making an income eventually. So I booked the flight for the following day and packed my things. I headed to the airport and luckily they did not pull a Japan on me this time. The journey took less than an hour and it was convenient. When I arrived I walked towards a local hostel in the city center. It was hard to find it at the start as the postcode system in Ireland is slightly different to the UKs. Instead I ended up staying at a hotel nearby, and although it cost me more I really needed a nice shower and a comfortable bed to sleep in. I went to check-in but was informed that 'only essential workers' were permitted to stay over night. They required a letter or email confirming that I was in work or looking for work. If I was not able to prove this I would have been sent away, meaning I would have had to get on a flight back to London once again. I went on my phone and found a work email and changed the address to a company in Ireland. I wrote that I was expecting an interview in a couple days time and so this meant that I was indeed an essential worker. I sent the email to myself and showed it to the receptionist which then allowed me to check in. A bit of a long procedure but it was what it was. I liked the atmosphere it felt like London but the people were sort of different, in a good way. I slept the night and when I checked out in the morning I walked around the city for a bit. I found a hostel not too far away and paid for a room for the week sharing with a few others. The hostel was nice and it felt more like a youth center than anything else. I went to the computer room and applied for work. People told me I needed a PPSN which is equivalent to a National Insurance Number in the UK. This would allow me to work without being taxed large amounts at a time. It would take me longer to get it due to Corona but I applied anyway.

A couple weeks went by in Dublin, I was starting to get close to some of the boys staying there. They were all entertaining characters and seemed more than open to educate me on Irish traditions and tourist attractions. The only issue was the price of the goods over there. Everything was so fucking expensive. I mean a chicken and chips meal would cost you around 8-12 euros which is equivalent to about £7-£10. I went up there with around £400 which was just about enough to pay for my hostel for a couple weeks. This meant I would be short of cash for a week before receiving my Universal Credit payment. I tried not to think about it and instead spent my time with the locals. My mind was overly occupied one day and so I decided to take a nap, I just needed to free my brain from all the information I had taken in. From social media and also from the vast amount of messages being directed towards me by everyone in the hostel. I mean it was clear most of them knew who I was, but they were acting oblivious. The nap didn't work out and so I went out for a walk. I took loads of directions and tried to focus on the simpler things in life. I mean the new scenery did help massively. If I was in London at that time it would have had been hard to find relaxation, but the new streets and fresh atmosphere helped. I walked through different roads, the whole time trying to brush all thoughts out my head. It was not easy, but then I reached a random street and stood there for a moment. There was a writing on the wall which said 'Free your mind from Linguistics'. I needed a sign then and thankfully god came at hand again. After that I felt much more relaxed and was able to remain focussed. I was enjoying my time at the hostel and formed some friendships. When my money ran out I decided to seek help from a homeless shelter. A man I met on the streets said they should be able to sort me out with accommodation and that I needed to go to some place to seek help, it was a 20 minute walk. I went there feeling optimistic but was told that I needed to hold an Irish passport or be in full time work for them to be able to offer support. They informed me to contact the British Embassy as I was in fact a British Citizen. The Embassy was not as supportive and said they would not be able to offer me financial support. Instead they redirected me to a man on the line who tried to offer some advice. He said how the Irish Government could not help me and that I should find a way back to the UK. I literally had no money and could not even afford the flight back. I asked them if they could provide me with the flight costs to which he laughed. I mean it was quite silly to ask for such a thing, but I thought it was worth a try. "Do you mean you have come to Ireland without much money? and most importantly you did not find work before landing? and during Corona time? That it quite a crazy thing to do" he said. I just told him how I had aspirations of finding a role in the movie industry and that music was my platform to getting there. He found it amusing but said he could not offer me any help and that I was on my own. I knew that would've been the outcome to begin with. I walked back to the hostel to enjoy the remainder of my stay, I had to check out in a couple days time. Luckily one of the boys I knew in London happened to call me that same day and sent me over some money. Not much but it bought me time, maybe an extra few days. I would've still had to sleep rough for a couple days. The man at the homeless shelter gave me a sleeping bag just in case and wrote a list of places I could go to get free food. The next day a Romanian man moved into my room which occupied three others. He seemed overly talkative and started a conversation with us as soon as he walked in. He kept going on about this South American tea he had and how good it was for your health. He poured us both a cup and we drank as we talked. He came across extremely weird to me, I mean its not everyday someone randomly makes you tea. So I decided to ask if he knew of any jobs going about. He said how he had sorted one of his friends with this fishing job. Apparently all I had to do was help them package fish and that the work paid weekly. Not much, just the basic minimum salary of 10.5 euros an hour. I needed any work and so I asked him to sort it out for me. He called the guy who then asked me to start the next day. Can you believe it? I spent weeks and weeks searching for work, and here I was with a job in under 15 mins. I could not trust the guy much. I mean why would anyone seem so focussed on offering me help, everyone else just came up with suggestions and silly quotes, but this guy was actually offering real support. He topped up my travel card and we spent the rest of the night talking about him and his situation. He said he lived a few miles away from the hostel and how he had come over to explore the city. It did not make much sense to me but I didn't question it. That night before I slept I set an alarm but I remained unsure whether to trust this man. What if he had a hidden agenda? and so when my alarm rang in the morning I just ignored it. I remained awake and waited for him to wake me up, he did say he would be coming with me to the train station. He was not in his bed and when he did eventually enter the room he was drunk out his head. He kept saying "Lets go my brother" and then saying "Lets go please fucker". It was a very strange interaction I did not understand his intentions. I guess he was just trying to motivate me to go to the job, or maybe that was his use of English. It was very comical but same time confusing. He kept trying to give me a brotherly hug and persuade me that he was there to help. It was all too weird for me, why was this man so eager on finding me work. He was obsessed with me going in, something did not seem right. I told him to chill out as I put on my jacket. He went downstairs to make some more tea. Him and that god damn tea. After we took a couple sips we both felt rejuvenated. He walked with me to the bus stop to meet with his friend who was also working there. He was clearly drunk and kept repeating the same thing again and again. "Brother...I am here to help. I know thinking you why this man thinking help me. But I am here for help you" he uttered. Was this a set up or a governmental support scheme...oh fuck it I was going to find out anyway. I asked him if he was making anything from helping me but he swore to god that he was not, which felt even more strange. I guess the world has turned so fucked up that a person genuinely helping you without much in return is confusing. When I met up with his guy we both made our way to the port. I met with the owner of the company who gave me 20 euros and placed me in a easy role for my first day. I was helping a man in his mid 50s place ice on fishes. We joked as we worked and time flew fast. I thanked the Romanian man when I got back and we had a few drinks, not tea this time. It appeared that I had finally found work in Ireland, and it took me less than 2 weeks. In London I went months without anything.