CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS

MARLENE AGUILAR

You cannot defeat the power or my pain. - Marlene Aguilar aka She Dragon First Edition 2013 Produced and published by Jamayco Publishing House © 2013 Marlene Aguilar All rights reserved. Author: Marlene Aguilar Editors: Josephine Queipo Design and layout: Alexander Pascual, www.alexdesigns.ph Typeset by Rainbow Graphics and Printing Co. Ltd. Printed and bound by Paramount Printing Co. First edition Address book orders to Jamayco Publishing House Fax: +632 ###-#### Website: www.marleneaguilar.com E-mail address: [email protected] No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means nor may any part of this publication be stored in a database or other electronic retrieval system without the prior

written consent of the publisher. The publisher assumes no responsibility for any errors or omissions contained in this publication.

vi Contents

Chapter 1. Beautiful Pain...... 1 Ian Simon ...... 38 Chi ...... 46 Chapter 2. Of Wants and Needs...... 61 In the Name of Freedom ...... 100 Oh Virgin Man ...... 105 When I Think of Love ...... 119 Wolves...... 121 Oh Venus...... 126 Chapter 3. Honor ...... 127 Green Beret...... 160 Chapter 4. Grand Turk ...... 184 Chapter 5. UFO...... 252 Philippine High Society...... 278 The Fiery Serpents...... 282 To A Wounded Warrior, From a Kindred Traveler...... 273 Chapter 6. Dark Horse ...... 319 Acknowledgements...... 400 Photos...... 401 Books by Marlene Aguilar...... 411 Non-Fiction Books by Marlene Aguilar...... 412

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My country, the Philippines, was born out of deceit, murder, rape, theft, slavery and other human rights violations; all gruesome crimes committed by Spain. But America, America was born out of genocide and it is determined to continue the same throughout the rest of the world. I fear that the US is removing its strong military presence in Iraq only to enforce its evil wrath upon Afghanistan. Who is going to prevent America from inflicting more harm on the earth and mankind? I can’t. But I know that the forces of heaven and earth will. I know I am considered a loose cannon on deck that is potentially dangerous to the existing system, as one of our previous presidential advisers has put it. But dear god, I despise the leaders of America just as much as I loathe the leaders of my own country. Marlene Aguilar

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Chapter 1

Beautiful Pain

Through the malicious campaign of the government and the media, an ugly image of me as a mother was portrayed to the public. I was crucified as the worst mother in the world for supposedly hiding my son in my home. All over the tri-media, I was branded as the bad mother. And most other people followed as the blind must follow; people such as the brainless guests on the Boy Abunda show called”Bottomline,” who condemned me on national TV during my live appearance there in 2010. What do they know? A US Ranger will deal with his enemies using his own tactics. That’s the only way. But then again, most dumb Filipinos, whether they are officials of the government or members of the media, or the public, have absolutely no clue that a US Army Ranger is one of the best soldiers the world could ever produce. Today is Sunday, May 13, 2012. It is Mother’s Day, and greetings are pouring in on my FB wall from my supporters. Since Jason has been in jail awaiting trial, I have adopted thousands of soul children who come to me for counseling in cyberspace. And I believe that I’ve done my best to answer their questions and their messages with sincerity.

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I would like to share with you a few of the Mother’s Day greetings that have come from my beloved soul children. I will start with the youngest, Aimee Rivadillo, who is in her early teens, a brave girl gifted with exceptional mind. She has read Warriors of Heaven. And she’s reading it now for the second time. I tell her that she’s my little scorpion because she’s small but fierce. I call her Scorpie. She wrote: “My third mother -When sadness was the sea, you taught me to swim. Because of you, I found myself. My soul mother Marlene Aguilar - the word proud doesn’t do justice here, but I am so proud of you. And I owe you so much. You taught me so much, and you showed me a world of things that I could have NEVER experienced without you. You have no idea how thankful and blessed I am to have someone like you in my life. I’ll always be here for you. I love you from here to eternity, more than words could ever express. Happy mother’s day! :-) ª”

On another post, she sent me the video she created for me using the song Dear Mama by Tupac Shakur. Then she wrote: “Happy mother’s day to the best mother in the whole universe ª I love you to no end. Thank you for everything. ~ 911-scorpiekins! ª”

I’ve also named Aimee, 911-scorpiekins because every time I need assistance in cyberspace, I dial her number immediately. Then I whine to her and say,”Aimee! Help!” In the early days on Jsin’s fan page, one of the supporters posted a question asking what the young nation should call Jason Ivler’s allies. Many came up with different ideas and names, but Aimee came up with a suggestion that stood out among the rest, Jsin’s

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Army. That’s how Jsin’s Army came into being. Yesterday, May 12, 12, Pia Mureeh Coronel wrote: “A lot of baby dragons will surely greet you tomorrow, so I’m posting mine now. HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, Mom! I always tell you that you’re an inspiration to us, to me, to everyone! I wish you all the love and happiness in the world! :)))) We’re all lucky to have you! YOU’RE THE BEST, MOMMY SHE DRAGON! :* I LOVE YOUUUUU !!!! :)))”

Here’s another from Mary Kayl Ocampo Esguerra: “Mommy, Happy Mothers Day. We are so blessed to have you as our soul mother, She Dragon. We’re proud to say our mother has tattoos. Stay sweet, as you are Mommy. WE LOVE YOU! We know words aren’t enough to describe how thankful we are to have you in our lives. We love you always.”

Nuni Slim dedicated the song I Turn To You by Christina Aguilera to me, by posting its music video on my wall, with the words: “You are my solace... You are my light...! Happy Mother’s Day! I love you! Big hug and kiss!”

Finally, here is Pinky P. Caseñas’s message to me: “You whom we only see and read about in this networking site – you are no stranger to us, because through your words and your beautiful thoughts, we found a soul Mom in you. Happy Mama’s day! I love you Mom. You deserve our love and respect. You don’t know how you’ve touched me with the wholeness of your being. You’re an inspiration.

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I’ll be seeing you soon. I’ll bring the native bayong (handwoven bag) for you and Tita Rebecca Padilla, as promised. Muah!” Going back to Aimee, she has three mothers. Her natural mother is Mom #1; her adopted mother is Mom #2. And her soul mother that is I, her Mom #3. One early morning, last year, she called me very upset. She had run away from home after her adopted mother had beaten her. She said she left home at two o’clock in the morning and had gone to a friend’s house. She asked if it would be okay to see me, so I told her to take a taxi, and that I would have one of my staffs waiting for her in front of my home to pay for the cab fare. When she arrived, we had a long talk. She discussed her violent home with me. So I told her about my vicious childhood, telling her that it was my hurtful past that has given me strength, substance and character. I told her that I wished she could stay with me, but that wasn’t possible because she’s a minor. Plus her Mom has legal custody over her. I offered to help her report her Mom #2 to the authorities, so we could file charges. She said no. Later that day, and before evening fell, I called her sister-in law and explained to her, Aimee’s sad predicament. Immediately, she took a cab and picked her up. Below is Scorpie’s Mother’s Day message to her adopted Mom which she posted on her FB wall and which she also sent to me as a private message. Our conversation follows. Her narrative is in Italics. “My 2nd mother: I greeted you by text but I will greet you again here! Although, no days pass without us fighting, although your mouth is like that of a machine gun blazing with no end, even though we never get along, even though you didn’t bring me into this world, even though you possess almost everything in a person I could possibly dislike, and even though you’re the most miserable

4 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS human being I’ve ever known, I love you so much, you know that. ª I may not be able to make you feel loved by me or I may not be able to express my love for you constantly, but I do love you. ª Because of you, I learned that to love with conditions is wrong. Therefore, it was you who taught me to love a person for who they truly are, genuinely and unconditionally. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. You taught me so much about life - and for that, for all the ugly and nasty verbal, physical, mental and spiritual abuses you so generously gave me, I will always be grateful to you. You taught me that I DON’T EVER WANT TO GROW UP LIKE YOU. And that’s the greatest gift of all, because the knowledge that I would never be like you makes me very, very, very happy. Believe me, I will always be grateful to you. Sorry for all the headaches I caused you. I hope you don’t give up on me, because as you know, I’ll give you more headaches in the future, and probably a heart attack too.” “What you wrote is so sad, and so beautiful at the same time.” “This is the reason why I didn’t want you to file a case against her. I wanted you too, but I feel sorry for her. She lives a miserable life, why should I add more pain to her joyless existence? Whatever she does to me, I still owe her so much. You said it yourself. ‘YOU CAN NEVER LOVE SOMEONE ENDLESSLY IF YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO HATE SOMEONE ENDLESSLY.’ Everything happens for a reason’ – I’ve gone through so much pain and look at me now. Ma, thank you SO MUCH. You were always BY MY SIDE, throughout all that pain.” “Tears. How did you ever get to be so wise at such a young age? I’m so proud of you. More tears. You can endure pain because you were born with mental and spiritual strength.”

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“Remember what you said to me yesterday? You told me, ‘I was born gifted with the sword of intellect. You just showed me how to use it. And if all I had to talk to were my adopted mother, I’d be 30 by the time I learn what ‘inner balance’ means. My Mom tells me I’m wrong, and you tell me I’m right. She’s wrong. You’re right! We’re both right. Ha ha!” “Now, you’re making me laugh.” “But I wouldn’t achieve all this without you in my life.” “Thank you for making me laugh and cry.” “Now, you made me laugh. LOL!” During our phone conversation on the same day, Aimee told me: “My Mom teaches me money matters most. You teach me to feed my mind and spirit first and foremost. She’s wrong! We’re right!” Scorpie told me that one day, while sitting in front of her computer, she had my book Warriors of Heaven close to her on the table. Her older brother, in his 20’s sat next to her. He sat in front of his mainframe as well, looking at some images on the Internet. “Why do these artists grow their hair long and dress like they’re impoverished?” he asked sneering. “Because they couldn’t care less what people like you think. They don’t give a damn what the world thinks,” Aimee answered. “And why do you say that? How would you know that?” he enquired. “Because artists feed their souls, therefore, they have inner balance,” she replied. “What the fuck is inner balance?” her brother queried.”How do you know all this shit?” “See this book, right here?” she asked her brother pointing at Warriors of Heaven.”I learned it from here.” Here ends my conversation with Aimee. I can be a child with her.

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She is a wonderful medium giving me passage to revisit my tortured past. Moreover, as I help her through her struggles, and while giving her strength, I am doing the same for Molly, as well. Remember, Molly is the child in me. Aimee gives me so much without realizing it. And unknown to her, we are growing together. As I write this, my nine-year-old daughter Maya is busy working on some surprise for me. Just now, she came to find me in the garden with the most angelic smile, offering me the most beautiful bouquet of velvet red roses, fastened with a massive red ribbon, made of natural fiber. I write in the garden now, where Paulie and I used to do our tarot readings. I sit here every morning, drinking my hot brewed coffee from Starbucks, working on this book, feeling blessed that I am encircled with the abundant beauty of tropical nature.”Your home looks like a boutique hotel,” said some Australian woman to me one day, who worked as a consultant for the local magazine called Real Living. She came with the mag’s crew when they came to photograph my home several years ago. Steve and I bought this old house before Maya came into being, after which we sat down and discussed how we would renovate it. We agreed to start renovation in the kitchen first. Then, we would proceed to the living room.”We’ll do it slowly,” we told each other. So, I hired my own construction workers immediately, discussing with them the plan to gradually work on this old house. Before we started the job, Steve went away on a mission to Micronesia and was gone for a week. By the time he returned, I had gutted the entire house, leaving only its foundation. “Bloody hell,” was the reaction of my British partner, when he saw that the house was gone. “Can we afford this?” he asked concerned.

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“No,” I answered smiling.”But here’s what we do. Let me worry about financing it. I’ll just send you half of the bill, and you can pay me over the years.” That was that. I put together a crew of 25 to 35 of the best skilled workers I could find, from plumbers, to carpenters, masons, wood carvers, electricians and painters, to work on re-building the house, then the pool, and finally, the garden. Soon after we started this challenging task, I became pregnant with Maya. Nevertheless, I worked on the construction site seven days a week. My workers pulled 12-hour shifts, some working everyday of the week with me. In the years I’ve lived in the Philippines, I’ve heard several stories from clients and friends about their horrible experiences regarding their involvement with home construction. Many projects suddenly seized up and ended in the courts, because builders failed to deliver what was agreed upon, or the foremen walked out on the job, or pricey materials were stolen, and many other issues, mostly involving money. These stories all ended with the house owners in tears. Ten months later I turned our property into a tropical oasis. When it was done, I wept too, not because I was disappointed, but because I was overwhelmed with joy. I felt that my workers gave me so much more than we had paid for. In addition, since then, the same crew has worked with me each time I have had a construction job to do. The truth is Filipino mothers show their affection to their children by feeding them and feeding them. We are like the Italians and the Jews in that manner. While doing construction, I made sure to send complimentary and generous proportions of homemade special dishes to my crew, some of which I cooked myself, to show them my gratitude. These little acts of generosity brought out the best in them. I find it amazing that one can get so much from small gestures.

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In re-building the house, I blended natural wood and stone, together with ancient doors, sculptures, furniture, art and other accessories from all over Southeast Asia including, Tibet, India, Indonesia, China, Myanmar and the Philippines. I wasn’t bestowed with the gift of music and writing at birth. Like my brother Tony says, god didn’t give me these gifts, therefore I stole them from Her. On the other hand, with regard to designing and building of homes, gardens and pools, Mother Nature was very generous to me. I would like to add here that I totally rebuilt an old house without using an architect or an engineer. I had a foreman, whose experience went back 30 years. He has been involved in building several homes, pools, bridges and high story buildings throughout his career. I’d rather work with a highly experienced man like that than an architect and an engineer with their four years of limited education from college. As far as the design, I’ve got it covered. As far as making my ideas come to fruition, well that was the job of my foreman. I feel uneasy describing my own home but here below are the words of Danding Gaite, an art patron, who once visited my home. “I feel like I’ve traveled back into time, hundreds of years and entered the dwelling of an Indian princess,” he uttered taking his breath upon entering the receiving room. My graphic artist and cousin Alex Pascual said,”After being in your home, all other houses look to me like storage facilities now.” So far, my home and garden have been featured in all the major newspapers in the country, as well as on several TV shows and magazines, including Philippine Tatler and Lifestyle Asia. The broadsheet called The Philippine Daily Inquirer, allotted three full pages in its Lifestyle section just to showcase my garden. Going back to Maya:

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“When you wake up tomorrow, I want you to stay away from the Indian room,” she warned me last night at the dinner table.”And don’t bother asking the staff what it’s all about, because I already told them not to tell you,” she told me. “Why? What’s going on tomorrow?” “It’s Mother’s Day, Mom!” my daughter said. After Maya gave me a bunch of flowers,”Okay, tell me, where do you want your surprise, in the Indian room or in your bedroom?” She asked me with the most serious look on her face. “I can’t really answer that question since I don’t know what my surprise is. I think you better ask Malou instead,” I answered. Malou was Maya’s baby sitter from day 1 until she was around two years, when she took a break from work because she had her own baby boy. She is now our cook, but she is also in charge of running the household. The Indian room was named such because of the 500 year-old- door to this abode that came from India. It is actually the guest room and the only one with a television in the house. I don’t watch TV. I haven’t watched TV since I left the US in 1991. Maya disappeared from my sight for some time. Later, she came back to see me where she had left me in the garden.”Come on,” she beckoned, gently taking my right hand. She led me to my bedroom. And once she opened the door, I saw that she had showered red and white rose petals all over my bed, and all over the floor. They were everywhere. “Oh Maya!” I gasped with both of my hands on my face.”Wow! This is the best Mother’s Day gift ever. Thank you! Thank you!” I stood there for a moment; my heart filled with joy.”How did you ever think of this? You’re soooooooo cool!” I continued, smiling the biggest smile, and happy beyond belief.”Your brothers gave me

10 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS soap, potpourri and candles. But they never thought of this.” I told my daughter, giggling. Then she took my right hand again and led me to my walk-in closet that leads to the bathroom. And everywhere on the floor, she had placed the same rose petals, every step of the way. When I reached the bathroom, I realized that the place too was adorned with rose petals in all places. I saw that she even scattered some on the wooden counter by the sink. Further, I noticed a tiny white rose bud, with its puny stem, gently tucked under the green-tea soap, which I place on a green glass holder. “Maya, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much!” She just looked at me with great delight, my beautiful child. Then she uttered,”You’re welcome.” I shall never forget the saccharine sensation, caressing my feet as I walked through the wooden floor in my bedroom, cushioned with soft, velvet and misty rose petals. And the smell, the aroma was overwhelming. How could I ever forget the sweet and erotic fragrance of roses that invaded my senses that morning? All in all, this glorious of all moments was a wonderland. Thanks to my creative daughter, Maya. We are now interrupted by a video call from Steve via Skype. For the past three months, he has been living in the Turks and Caicos Islands. I don’t really know much about the place except, I heard Bruce Willis owns a fabulous house there. Here is a portion of our dialogue. Steve’s words are in Italic. “How are you this morning?” “I’m enjoying writing this new book, so different from the last one. Bringer of Death was so painful to write, I don’t know how I wrote it. I don’t remember what I said between Chapters 1 to 5. It was only in Chapter 6 when I began to feel what I was writing.”

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“It was painful for me to read as well. Reading it is reliving it” “Writing that book was like going to a very dark place, filled with endless passages and hallways, packed with several rooms, within rooms, overflowing with sorrow and death. And when I entered that place, I just wanted to run as fast as I could to escape it.” I told Steve crying. “To write it was to die. The pain was too much to bear.” “Write it. Write all of that and put that in your book.” “But now... Now, I feel like I’ve gone through a long dark tunnel, and now I’m reborn into the light. I survived it. I’m having fun with this new book. It’s so different now. I can feel what I’m writing. I can see the words. I can touch them, I can taste them, and I can smell them. It’s like I’m dancing with the words now, you know what I’m saying?” “Put what you just told me in your book. Share your thoughts with the world. What are you calling this novel?” “Condemned by Millions.” “What is it about?” “Courtroom dramas, my FB supporters, ambushes and abductions involving my allies, more conversations with the CIA, more sex essays….” “Will there be a fifth book?” “Yes.” “What is that about?” “I thought I’d write about the people that mattered in my life, my parents, my siblings, my second set of Jewish parents, my lovers, my closest friends…come to think of it, if I write about all that, it would fill five books. I’ll have to revise my topic a bit,” I said laughing.”I really don’t think I’ll ever stop writing.” “By the way, Happy Mother’s Day!”

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“Thank you.” Since today is Mother’s Day, I thought today would be the perfect opportunity to tell you about my beautiful and brave soul children, and how they came into my being. I have tens of thousands of them on FB. But those dearest and closest to me, I call my baby dragons. They are the ones who gave me immense comfort, light and love during my darkest of days. And they are the brightest and the most vicious of the lot, all born to rebel against the institution, like their soul mother. These are the people who wept with me, who marched with me, and rallied with me during my protests. They attended court hearings with me, despite the violent threats they received. They fought with me, when I stood against the entire government and the media that wanted nothing more than to destroy my family and me. They stood by me during the most dreadful days of my life. They are my top supporters - the true freedom fighters of the modern day. There are now four media of war – land, water, space and cyberspace. On the Internet and on the worldwide information superhighway, my baby dragons are my Special Forces soldiers. And together they have one heart and one mind that say – ‘FUCK THE SYSTEM!’ There is one thing that I find common amongst my soul children, some divine cosmic chord that binds us all together. Like me, they have either suffered loss, or violence and oppression from a tender age. And each of them offers me something so unique, like a light that glows in its own radiance, one distinctly different from the other. Not long after I joined FB, I met two of them, Jesuke Capuz and Jordan. I invited them over to the house for dinner. The first time I read the posts on Jason’s fan page was the day I joined, January 20, 2010. Two days after I came home from my

13 MARLENE AGUILAR detention at NBI headquarters. This was a crucial time when the press did all it could to further damage Jason’s image along with mine in public. The media vehemently condemned us as guilty in the eyes of the world, guilty before any given trial. So it was during that morning, while I sat in front of the computer, when I realized that in cyberspace, our supporters and detractors verbally attacked each other without control, like vicious animals in the wild. Since there is no limit to the narrative one may post on FB, these fans and haters gave themselves all the freedom to assault one another. And impale one another, they did. They came out with bad words in English, Tagalog, Spanish, Spanglish, Dutch, Swedish and all sorts of languages spoken in the country, and mind you; we have over 150. As I scrolled down the wall reading the posts, I couldn’t help but laugh non-stop, because the entire wall of my son’s fan page had such black humor. It entertained me in such a strange way I couldn’t describe to you. I was drowning in an ocean of pain at that time, fighting for every inch of life I could grasp. My heart was broken into a thousand pieces, and my soul was screaming for justice. Suddenly, I found myself in this surreal world called the World Wide Web. One of the admins for Jsin’s fan page wrote: “TO JASON IVLER’S HATERS - Fuck your mothers and fathers! Fuck your wives and husbands! Fuck your friends! Fuck your brothers and sisters! Fuck your bloodline! Fuck you today! Fuck you 24/7! Fuck you tomorrow! Fuck you forever. And I’m not finished. Fuck you some more!”

Our supporters waged war against the evil government of the Philippines, with Jason Ivler and me as their icons. There they

14 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS were, the young nation, fighting for us on the Internet, defiant and hateful against the government, an institution that has tormented its citizens all my life. I sat there reading their comments, hailing Jason and me as their heroes. I sat there suspended in disbelief, because these strangers who mentally battled for my son and me really had no idea who we are and why we ended up in such an unspeakable dilemma to begin with. I remained there, transfixed and lost in the world of information technology, my heart gripped with conflicting emotions of pain and joy, darkness and light. Then, I noticed one name. She stood out from the rest. Her spirit was so intense. She spoke more vehemently than any other, and with humor. I admired her immediately, my heart beating with joy as I read her writing. I thought how wonderful that she could mix anger and laughter, because a mind that is capable of such is a rare and powerful one. Her name is Jesuke Capuz, and like me, she was born a warrior. Jason Ivler’s fan page had several admins who had access to his fan page’s account. Jesuke was one of them. Below were some of her posts. She wrote this to the haters: “Hey Jonathan chillax. Did anyone tell you, you have a face that looks like it’s been fucked by war? When I see you, I swear, I’ll be very nice to you. I’ll make sure to fuck your sorry face some more! LOL!” “Fuck you Dave! What’s wrong? Didn’t you notice this is Ivler’s fan page? You’re not a fan so get the fuck out! Shoo! Go back to kindergarten. LOL!” “Of course I sound like Jason Ivler, you ugly troll! I’m a fan! After all this is IVLER’S FAN PAGE and not the AMPATUAN FAN PAGE! Who’s the idiot now? LOL!”

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“Cornetto accounts will be permanently banned from this page. WTF! Ya’ll just want to be famous. Faggots!” “Hi to all the HATERS! Fuck y’all!”

For the two major TV networks, she wrote: “GMA AND ABS-CBN TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT HOW MANY PEOPLE LOVE JASON IVLER!”

The evening she came to the house, she brought along Jordan, an enchanting young gay man in his late teens, who was lavishly overwhelmed with passion at birth. Jesuke also brought me a beautiful bouquet of white roses, a loving gesture that had become a ritual for her when she would visit me at home on special occasions. Jesuke has the beauty of a real Filipina. She has light honey- colored skin, a round face, framed with long, jet-black and straight hair. She has almond-shaped eyes filled with strength and love, prominent lower cheekbones and full lips paired with a dimple to its left side. When she smiles, she smiles with the openness that is only possible if one had pure character. And that to me is what truly makes her beautiful, she glows from within her brave and giving heart. Of all my female baby dragons, Jesuke is probably the only one born to kill. During dinner that evening, Steve sat to my right at the head of the table. Jesuke sat next to me to my left, whereas Jordan sat across the table facing her, while Maya sat beside him, facing me. “Mommy,” she said.”Isn’t it amazing how many people are joining the page to support you and Jsin?” “Yes, I can’t believe it. Everyday I visit that wall, and I still can’t believe it.” “Mommy,” she continued.”I just want to make this straight. I

16 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS know that a lot of people go to Jsin’s page because they are his fans. But Jordan and I are your fans. We are there for you.” “It’s all the same though, J’s followers are my supporters and vice versa. We’re all fighting the same fight.” After dinner, I sat with my new soul children. And this is what I told Jesuke that evening: “Listen to me carefully. I believe the CIA framed Jason because of my radical behavior against the Philippines and the US. That fan page will stand against the government, against the church, and against all evil institutions. That fan page is Jason’s shield against the system. It is our protection. And it will help save Jason’s life. Do you understand me? So promise me, promise me, you will do everything to protect it.” With eyes glowing in the candle light that evening, Jesuke took everything I said and placed every word I uttered into her heart. She and I met several times after that first day. She would visit me at home, and there were times we visited Jsin together, or would go out to eat together. But we would always talk and talk, and talk. Our conversations were filled with love, tears, and laughter. Like me, Jesuke’s mind could go on overdrive, which gives her the ability to speak faster than the speed of light. And she makes me laugh every time she gets wired up on a certain topic. These are the times she would speak with eyes wide, open and wild, her arms swinging in the air, while other parts of her body, including her legs would move in unison. When I think of her now, I see her eyes, dark as the night, radiating with love, courage and light. Since our first meeting Jesuke devoted almost all her waking hours to promoting and defending Jason Ivler’s fan page despite grave threats against her life and family. During the first few months after the raid, Jesuke spent her lunch breaks from work in front of

17 MARLENE AGUILAR the computer doing her admin work and eating her sandwich at the same time. She defended that alliance of oppressed souls with her life. As well, she defended Jason and me with her life. And because of that, because she was devoted to me giving everything she could possibly give me, I will be grateful to Jesuke for the rest of my days and beyond. During the days following the raid, I didn’t eat well and didn’t sleep well either. My entire being was tormented beyond my imagination. In the mornings, I would get out of bed to read messages from my supporters on FB. They brought tears to my eyes every time, comforting my grieving heart. I don’t know how many thousands of narratives I read from people all over the world. But one soul stood out from the rest in a special way. Her name is Naja Mitchell. The name alone gives me comfort, even to this very day. She is the first soulful individual I connected with in cyberspace. From the very first moment I read her writing, I knew a cosmic chord defying infinite space and time connected us. Like me, Naja is an ancient soul, and like me, she is clairvoyant. I would like to share with you our communication beginning January 2010. This was the time when like me, Jason Ivler was tortured in mind, body and spirit. Moreover, he was fighting for his life at the hospital, surrounded by the dregs of society, the NBI agents. Meanwhile, the government and the media persecuted us in public. Naja’s narrative is in Italics. Here was her first message to me. “Just wondering, I feel like we have met a few lifetimes ago. I just cannot shake that feeling off. It is so strong. My spiritual guide said you are a very, very strong psychic and healer. And you have been so for many, many lives. She said you were my teacher from a past life. I feel like it could be something else. I am hoping you could tell me.

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You don’t seem like that kind of person, but I hope you would not think that I am crazy. Naja”

“Yes, I am a very strong psychic. The Buddhist and Taoist oracles believe me to be one of the mightiest Buddhist saints reincarnated in this lifetime. I returned to cause an avalanche of change. Yes, our souls are entwined. And you are not crazy. You are connected to the spirit world like I am. Read Warriors of Heaven from my website. All of these things happening in my life now were predicted 20 years ago. With love and light always, Marlene”

“I find that amazing. It’s 3:40 AM here in California, and I had a vision in my dream that you had replied to my message, and I bolted right up from bed. I think my third eye is half open. I can predict in my dreams from time to time. A psychic friend said I am blocking my third eye. I still have a lot of work to do within myself. I still have to do a lot of work on freeing myself. I have read your book last year. I have to tell you, I do not enjoy reading from the computer. I am very old fashioned. I love the smell of books. My psychic friend said you are a”light worker” as well. I do not know what that is. I am guessing it has something to do with healing? And she mentioned something about magic. She said you are a STRONG, STRONG psychic and healer. As soon as I started talking about you, she felt your energy like”bam” (those were her exact words). She said your connection to the spirit realm is very deep and old, and you have done this for many, many lives. I have

19 MARLENE AGUILAR been meaning to email you since I have read your book, and I’ve been debating for the longest time if I should. Yes, I do believe our souls are entwined. I wonder what you were to me in my past life. Do you know? You bring tears to my eyes and a strange feeling in my chest.”

“My god, I am crying now. Yes, we are entwined and it is so strong. I feel your spirit around me. Do not fear. Yes, I am healer and destroyer. I have access to both good and evil forces. Please don’t hesitate to contact me. We are bonded here and beyond. With love and light always, Marlene”

“I dreamt of you last night. I feel that you were someone very, very close to me. My mother and grandmother are both Ilocana. They are from Isabela too. I have a blurry vision in my head of Isabela. All I can see are tall weeds and big butterflies, bigger than my hand. I am not afraid. You must have done something, I feel relieved. I am in a lot of pain. I have been locking myself up in the house for days, maybe weeks. Yet today, I feel peaceful. I think I will step outside and enjoy the sun. I know what you are going through, I am so sure you will come out of it stronger than ever. Whatever the heavens will throw at you; you will meet it halfway and smash right into it.”

“I feel you so close to me. I woke up this morning feeling your spirit around me. I accept with all humility what heaven throws my way. I have peace within, and nothing could ever take that away. However, to see my son Jason in grave pain brings me unbearable

20 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS grief. Still, I accept this pain with all humility. I am nothing, nothing but a pawn to the will of the cosmic forces. Listen to your inner voice. It will guide you to the right path. My energy surrounds you now. You are never alone. In spirit and with love, Marlene”

“I want to dream of the past. I want to remember. I can only see a vision of myself as a child, and you smiling down at me. Or I could be just imagining it, but it makes me cry...”

“Naja it isn’t your imagination. You belong to the spirit world. Just trust what you see. Do not doubt and do not fear. Love always, Marlene”

“I know you love all your children very deeply, but I feel that you and Jason have a special bond. One that is so deep, so profound and so powerful. You and him will always belong to each other, always...”

“Yes, this is true. I am connected to Jason’s soul like no other. WE are ONE and the same. Yes, our bonding is so profound; no one could touch it. It is beyond words. It is beyond this world. And yes, I know that his soul is entwined with mine, here and beyond and until the end of time.”

“I can sense it. It’s so strong that it brings tears to my eyes. I forgot to mention we had met briefly, maybe seven years ago. I think I was 15 years old. I remember you saying,”One of your frustrations in life is not having a penis because you would like to

21 MARLENE AGUILAR know what it would feel like to have one.” I have never forgotten you. Now I know why. I’ve met your other son Colby, but I haven’t met Jason yet. Still, I can feel his energy. Maybe it’s because you and him are one. He has such a gentle soul. He’s in a lot of pain isn’t he? I am sensing emotional pain from him more than physical pain. I can feel it in my chest. I am sending you both my love, hoping it might ease both your pain, even just for a moment. Thank you for taking the time to reply to my messages. It brings comfort to my lonely world.”

Her spiritual guide mentioned”something about magic.” And that I am a”light worker.” I want to remind you that my magic is powered by both yin and yang forces. Many times, I have used the powers of fire to cast black spells upon my enemies, bringing them to their eventual physical death. You are probably wondering why Naja knew so much about my deep connection with Jason. Furthermore, you are probably wondering why her spiritual guide knew so much about my cosmic gifts. That is because old and free souls such as ours have access to wisdom you could never comprehend. We now go to Jordan. I met him the evening Jesuke came to my home. The name Jordan brings tears to my eyes, every time I think of him. Even so, I call him my sunshine. And of all my baby dragons, outside of Aimee, I am probably most protective of him. He stands around 5’2”, with fair complexion. He is petite and must weigh only around 90 lbs. He has the face that befits that of an archangel, a beautiful face of love, soft in every way. How his parents could be so cruel to such an enchanted being, I will never understand.

22 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS

Jordan’s mother was his father’s second wife. He was separated from his first. So, when they decided to live together, his mother moved in with his father along with his children from his former spouse. I woke up this morning on Mother’s Day, and I found myself in bed, going through conversations I had with Jordan over the Internet since 2010. I want to share some of them with you. I had offered Jordan the job as Maya’s tutor in 2010 because he had lost his work at the call center. So he came to live with us. I indulged him like my own child, and loved him like my own. How else was I supposed to treat him but as part of my family? I love the boy. Perhaps, my behavior confused him. He failed to deliver some of his responsibilities regarding work, which caused conflict among my crew at home. And so, the situation didn’t work out, which caused both Jordan and me great pain. Eventually, we all decided it was best for all parties concerned to give Jordan a leave for two weeks. Here is what I wrote to him, the day he left. “Darling soul child, Know this about me. Right or wrong, my love for you will not change. We will grow together, rain or shine. When you came into my house to work, no one gave you specifics of what was truly expected of you. So we will work it out. That’s how people grow together. I asked Mary Jean and Malou to make a schedule for you, one that would work out for them, which you could follow. And you may look at it, read it and see if it’s okay with you. That is if you want to continue to work with us. There will always be some sort of conflict wherever you go, wherever you work. You are welcome to come back if you so desire. All my love always...

23 MARLENE AGUILAR

“I think that would be perfect. That’s exactly what I needed... A guide. You know I’d give anything to go back and correct my mistakes Mommy. Just tell me when. Let me share with you some of the reasons why I am inconsistent and always lost: I know I lack discipline. Ever since I was a child I was always being scolded for even the tiniest mistakes. I was taunted and abused by my older cousins, both emotionally and physically. My half sisters won’t accept my mother and me. My father’s family always branded my Mom as the second wife like a concubine without any rights. My father’s family made me feel so small, so ordinary, a pariah. They got jealous for even the simplest gestures that some of my kind relatives offered me. They loathe me. In short, my father’s family never treated my Mom and me nicely. My situation got worse when I found out that I was far different from everyone else. I realized that I was gay. Imagine the horror when my Dad found out. My father and mother are both narrow- minded. They refused to understand my situation, most especially my father. My father abhors my being homosexual. After he found out that I was gay, he got drunk every night and would with fight my mother blaming her for how I turned out. He tortured me both physically and emotionally for being a homosexual. He hated me. And my Mom couldn’t do anything about it, because I think, she hates me too. I cried myself to sleep almost every single night from that day forward, from elementary through high school. I felt like I was contained in a tiny cell, bound by huge chains. That was the time when I came here to Manila to study and eventually work. Living in the city gave me a kind of freedom that was so alien to me. For the first time, I was able to fully express myself. I developed this mindset

24 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS that I could do whatever I want. And I felt that I didn’t give a damn anymore, so for the first time in my life, I became reckless and out of control. I only have few friends, all girls. And some of them, I don’t trust, since I believe they will eventually leave me once they find men who will love them. I actually have fear of men because I think they only see me as a disgusting homosexual. It is so hard for me to trust a person, most especially men. I hate men. I find it difficult to admit, but deep inside me, I have this burning anger toward my father. I hate my father for hating me, and for hurting me. And I hate my mother too, for not standing up for me. I hate most members of my family, because they never treated me as one of them. They gave me no freedom at all. It was hell. They broke me. This is why I don’t really believe my friends when they tell me they love me. They don’t love me. They’re just happy with my company, since my stupid jokes make them laugh. People are so shallow, so unreal. I was forever searching. I was forever lost, until I met you. When you said you loved me, I had this overpowering belief that you really did. I felt it. It was such a foreign concept for me; it was so surreal. It is not because you’re rich, or intelligent, or generous, or brave, but because for some unfathomable reason my inner voice told me that your love for me is genuine. So as cliché as it may sound, you have given me direction. I now have reason to believe that a highly intellectual human being such as you could love someone like me. And for once, for once in my life, I felt that I was no longer ordinary. I am now someone special. And maybe someday I won’t just be special, but maybe, just maybe, I may become someone great. I have this unshakable, unwavering faith that someday, someday, I will be like you.

25 MARLENE AGUILAR

I have found myself a teacher. Like you, I only allow very few people close to my heart, because it is really hard for me to trust anyone. When you asked me the first time to be Maya’s tutor, I was astonished. A million questions went over my head. I was afraid that if you saw my true color, you would hate me, and that your interest in me would vanish completely. Mommy, this is so hard for me to write, since these accounts involving my life are so hurtful. Given the chance, I’d rather erase them completely from my memory. I dread remembering them. I am crying as I write this. I recalled these dreadful memories for you, so I could write this for you. I did this for you, so you would get a better picture of why I am the way I am. Thank you for taking the time reading my story. I miss you. I love you very much.”

“I have read your narrative with tears. Yes, they broke you. The same people who were supposed to love you broke you. But that is also what makes you so special in my eyes. Do you understand? I couldn’t love you so intensely, if you were any different. And my love for you will never move. It remains. What you’ve written is so magical, so beautiful, so painful, and so compelling. Your words are driven by truth and light despite the darkness in your life. And the fact that you could write about it with such honesty shows your inner strength. It makes me very proud of you. I’ve spoken with Mary Jean and Malou. They know how difficult it is for me to allow anyone into my home, and I have welcomed you as family to us, my family, your family. They said, they are willing to work it out with you. We will work it out. That’s how we

26 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS will grow together. We will make mistakes and work it out over and over. That’s what people do when they love one another. My home is your home. And nothing is wrong with your sexuality. Fuck them all! Let your anger and hatred toward your mother and father rise to the surface. It is just. So you love them and hate them. I know the feeling. It makes us human. I love you always, my darling soul child.”

I saw Jordan again after I wrote this. He had come to see me before he left the city to visit his parents in the province. Afterward, I received the message below from him. “Thank you for your understanding and for your love. I know we have had our differences, but you disregarded that and when you saw me, you still hugged me with the same open heart. For that I’ll be forever grateful. I am so missing you every passing minute. I miss everything about the house and the people in it, Maya, Ate Malou, Mary Jean, Tito Steve, Apollo, and most especially, you. Words can’t justify the happiness I feel thinking that I found myself a family in you. I am still in tears reading my narrative and got more emotional reading your reply. Yes, mother. They broke me, and I hate them. Sometimes I feel scared realizing I have this kind of anger within me. But like you said, it is what makes us human. I just have to let it be and see how it goes. Sorry if I wasn’t able to reply immediately. I had a fever. I promise I’ll be better. I’ll change and will grow with you since I know that you only want what is best for me, too. So thank you again for embracing me into your family. It gives me a feeling of elation, more than I could ever contain. I love you and will never ever stop saying it.”

27 MARLENE AGUILAR

Later, he sent me this message. By the way Apollo is Maya’s Norwich terrier. “I hope you can still embrace me with all your heart. I’m crossing my fingers as I type this. Funny, I feel like the prodigal son coming back to my mother to whom I’ve caused disappointment. I’m so sorry again for missing in action the past few weeks. But I know you know that my love for you is unending and unbreakable. And thank you so much for reading this letter. Forgive me, mommy. I miss you. So much.”

I cried while reading your letter. And I’m crying now as I type these words. How can I not forgive you? Forgiveness comes with loving you. I have forgiven you for all your mistakes before you made them. That’s true love. And that is my love for you.”

You are probably wondering why I have such intense relationships with my soul family. I believe they are bonded with me eternally, and through space and time. Do you understand? Jordan, Farrah, Jesuke, and Aimee’s souls are not only with me in this particular life. They are also with me, and close to me in other existences. I believe that I have shared with these people not just one lifetime, but several, and in different ways. For example, I think that the reason why Jordan is so deeply bonded with me is because I am sharing many lives with him in parallel dimensions, in various combinations of relationships. Is it possible that he could be my mother, father, brother, sister, lover, enemy, wife or husband in other realities? Absolutely. There are endless probable realities like the one we are experiencing now. These dimensions are all connected, evolving, and transforming through space and time. Since I am clairvoyant, I have the ability to identify the particular members of my cosmic clan, almost as soon

28 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS as their spirit connects with mine in this matrix. Moreover, I love each of my soul mates with all my heart and soul, here and beyond. Since the raid in my home, I detached myself from my family especially with Steve. I was afraid they would get hurt because of me, so I thought it best to distance myself from them. Although at the time, I had lived with Steve for almost 12 years, still there was so much about my life he didn’t know. How could I possibly tell him that a man like Marcus mentored me? How could I tell him then that the heavy surveillance had been coming from the US in 2007 because of my dark past with Marcus? How could I tell him that it was my actions that led to the death of Jason’s father many years ago? And that past is connected to the tragedy of Jason, tragedy, which afflicted every single member of my family. For many, many years I have been able to contain Medea, the darkest creature inside me. I have been able to lock her away like a rabid vampire. She thrived in the world of Marcus. I decided she could only live in the world of Marcus, and not in the reality, as you know it. So, I put her away, and imprisoned her. While the NBI agents tortured Jason, Medea took over. She is a person inside me alien to Steve. In the last 14 years that we have been together, he never raised his voice at me, although I may have done that to him more than twice. You see the vicious beast inside me was never necessary in the world encompassing Steve and me. This is the reason why my partner has never had to face my darkness. The world of Marcus had now attacked my home. And I knew that the only way I could survive the adversity I faced was to release the Queen of Darkness herself. So I gave Medea full freedom and detached myself from Steve. Ever since, I kept most of my thoughts to myself, planning what I would do to save my family from further harm.

29 MARLENE AGUILAR

In November 2010, a strange American man contacted me on FB. Many people send me messages constantly, but this one was far different from all the rest. His mind was brilliant, and he had the passion of an artist. Remember, I am clairvoyant. This gives me the ability to sense someone’s soul through his writing. Let’s call this man Dwayne. Even today, after all this time, the thought of him brings me to a place of solace. He offered me a world detached from the painful existence I found myself in at the time. He offered me a secret place in cyberspace where I could do anything I pleased. During the most painful time of my life, he offered me sanctuary. My soul children Aimee, Farrah, and Jordan knew about Dwayne. The latter two had access to my FB account, and I gave them freedom to read the private messages between the American and me. As I write these words in tears, I want you to know that I am not ready to confront in further detail the mental and spiritual relationship I had with this wonderful man, maybe later, maybe when I could summon enough courage to revisit that past, maybe in my next book. But, I will tell you this. I knew he worked for the private sector of the US military, however, I didn’t know he had security clearance. I didn’t realize his closeness to me was a threat to his safety. Dwayne lived in his own home in North Carolina. I spoke to him every day from the moment he came into my life. We talked without fear, sharing each other’s thoughts without hesitation, like children would, because they are unafraid. One day, three assassins attacked him in his home. He died on the 14th of January 2011, so I was told. Although there were hidden cameras around his home, the police say they couldn’t find any evidence that would be helpful in finding the men who killed him. Therefore, professional killers assaulted him. Do I think that Dwayne’s death had something to do with the

30 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS brotherhood and me? Yes. Here below is Jordan’s message to me when he learned about my soul friend’s death. “I read your message about Dwayne’s passing away last night. I was so devastated I needed more time to pull it together. I cried for you. I cried for Dwayne. I cried for a beautiful story that has ended so abruptly. I loved Dwayne. He gave you joy, and nourished your soul with his beautiful mind. You and him shared a domain of Shangri-La where only love and peace dwell. A part of me mourns his death. Actually, two weeks ago I had this dream. In that dream, I saw you crying and so overwhelmed by grief. You were sitting on a chair in your garden and just crying. I was just standing there, unable to move, crying with you as well. But I did not know why. It was such a vivid and powerful dream my shirt was drenched with tears upon waking up. It took me a while to reply because I also needed to deal with this pain and guilt. I doubted him. I thought that the US military just used him to get to you, but it turned out that his intentions were honest and pure. I wish I could come up with words to soothe your wounded heart, but I can’t think of any. Maybe the truth is that there are no words to comfort you. It’s just life, and life can be so cruel sometimes. I mean you loved him, like you love us. You loved him with all your being, and fate had taken him away from you, and if I was in your situation, I wouldn’t know what to do. No words could stitch the pieces of my heart back together. I’m so sorry for your loss, Mommy. I am. What they did to Dwayne was so brutal. It made me question God. It made me ask Her why. Why Dwayne? Why you? What did

31 MARLENE AGUILAR you do to endure this suffering? It isn’t like you haven’t endured enough. You gave yourself to the poor, struggling artists and gave your whole unconditional love to the people who are closest to you. All this anguish is just too much. I know what it’s like to lose someone because I had also lost someone I truly loved, my grandmother. She loved me and defended me whenever my father beat me. When she died, a part of my heart died with her. And nothing could ever fill the void she left in my heart. Mommy, while all these terrible things are happening to you, I just want to let you know that I am here for you. You may not see me, but my heart still belongs to you. My soul feels your grief. I hope that in time, your grief turns to grace. I’m with you. You are not alone. I love you.

“I read your beautiful letter with tears flowing through my eyes, coming from my soul. Your dream is real. I was in the garden crying, mourning Dwayne’s death. When he passed, I too, died an instant death. He gave me joy and hope, and light and love. All that was taken from me when they killed him. I killed him by letting him into my life. He died because of me. Maybe I suffer so I could understand the sorrow of mankind. It is my fate. What is my choice but to humble myself to the will of heaven? Jsin says Dwayne is only dead in this reality. And that comforts me. I love you darling soul child of mine. And my love for you has no end. Thank you for writing to me. Your words are divine.” I don’t know, Mama. Life is like that. There are no answers, just more questions. All I know is that we must prepare ourselves for endless waves of transformation and hold on to happiness, generosity,

32 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS and forgiveness that bind us and manifest our own humanity. We must hold on to hope, no matter how slight, because without it, our broken hearts won’t amount to anything, but broken hearts.” “Beautiful. You are so wise, my darling sunshine.” “I am your sunshine. It’s my moral obligation to be like my Mama, if not as, then at least, just a bit.” You are a lot like me, pure at heart like me, giving like me, loving like me. We are entwined, forever. In another note, he wrote: “It must be really hard for you. You have gone through so much pain, most people couldn’t begin to fathom. But Mommy, this is your destiny. You were born to annihilate evil and heaven is on your side. I know you also want life to be simple and tranquil, but you’re the only one who can do this. No one else can do what you do. Your soul children are rooting for you. People with open minds are here to support you. Many people love you. You are not alone in this battle.” After this correspondence, Jordan disappeared from FB for many months. Then one day, I saw that he had activated his account again. So, I posted a note on his wall. I wrote: “I saw your name today, and tears started pouring down my eyes. And I know it is your pain I felt, which is why I started crying.” He responded and stated: “I have been meaning to write you a letter for the past few weeks. I knew I had to write something, since I hadn’t written you for the past few months. I wanted to write you the best, the wittiest, the funniest, and the greatest narrative ever. I had some deep, touching insights. I had clever and heartfelt thoughts, sad and grateful, and joyful thoughts. I was on a roll. And then I read your post on my wall, and now I’m

33 MARLENE AGUILAR crying so hard I had to stop writing. I feel you, because my spirit is always with you. I know you will always be a part of me, egging me to get my head out of my ass. Your voice resides inside my brain, chortling, laughing, crying, and even shouting at me on different occasions. You taught me what it takes to find my way in the world. It’s not what I thought it was. I thought it was all about confidence, or will, or luck. Those are some good things to have, no question. But there is something else, something that nurtures all these things. It is joy. That sounds naïve, doesn’t it, considering that there’s more suffering in the world than my little brain could ever comprehend. However, I have learned to find joy in what I do every day. If you think about it, in a geological timescale, my life is utterly meaningless. I mean, I’m just one of those billions of talking slabs of meat populating a massive wet ball, revolving around an amoral star. In the grand scheme of things, maybe I would die never knowing what great minds such as yours had experienced and seen. But maybe if I just let a part of myself go, and not give a fuck about things too much, and maybe if I could just accept this fleeting insignificance, which is called human life, then maybe, I could find joy in the present moment. Then I think of you. I have seen you struggle. And struggle you do. You loved someone and then life snatched him away from you, without any warning. The death of Dwayne was so ruthless; the tragedy left a cold spot in my chest. But despite all the disasters you’ve faced, you’re still there, stronger (and sexier, I might add) than ever. Looking at your current pictures, I see that you’re now doing mixed martial arts. I don’t believe you do it only to stay fit. I believe it is your way of coping. You get up in the ring and fight, because the pain you endure distracts you from your aching heart.

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You are rescuing yourself from your inner suffering by taking the beating physically. I do the same at work. I take 12-hour shifts everyday; not only for financial reasons, but my job allows me to escape my reality. Kindred souls we are.” Jordan is no longer as active on FB as he was over two years ago when we met. However, when I wrote to him on Mother’s Day saying that I woke up reading our past conversations in tears, he responded: “Mother, for the past year since I revived my Facebook account, I’ve been constantly going over your wall to be updated with what’s happening in your day-to-day life. In fact, it’s one of the few reasons why I even bother opening Facebook. Yes, I have been going back, reading our previous exchange of messages. I do so whenever I doubt myself. I do it to have some semblance of sense again, you know? We shared something that was real, so heartfelt, so true, and so human. The pain we feel is beautiful. It’s what makes us human, and it makes us who we are. There’s nothing more; but I want nothing more.” I love you so much, Mommy. Happy Mother’s Day! Thank you for being my mother.” “You’ve grown up so much since last we saw each other. I feel it in your words. I realized on Mother’s Day why I cry every time I think of you. I’m crying now as I write these words. There is a part of me hidden deep inside me that is forever crying and in pain. That is the part of me you hold. And that is why you touch the softest part of my heart. Thank you for being in my life. I love you always.” “I’m wiping tears away as I write this. You also know the exact

35 MARLENE AGUILAR words to summon tears in my eyes. Even at random times I think of you, from an unexpected piece of music to a simple paragraph in a novel. Your presence is everywhere. I have been reading varied books during my free time to stay intellectually present; you taught me that. I would never let a week pass without learning new words and finishing at least one book. I will never forget this statement you wrote me once,”The people who are supposed to love you, broke you.” It’s so simple yet so ravishing and true. You couldn’t be more right. You couldn’t have written it without going through the same pain. You’ve felt it. It left a void in some fragile compartments in your heart. You are just like me. We are smart and sensitive enough to know that people can be really ruthless and unforgiving at times. You and I both know that there is something so vital inside us that has no name, because it is the unknown. We are the unknown, that is who we are. That’s also why there’s a part of you with me everywhere I go. You helped shape my little corner in this universe. My love for you has no end. I also thank you with all my heart. Thank you, Mommy and I love you very, very much.”

Then we have Ian Simon. He reminds me of Jordan, because his spirit has been tortured as well, with one great difference. Ian is very cunning, and manipulative. This soul child of mine was born to survive. He has been one of the top supporters of Jsin’s fan page since it began two and a half years ago. I remember he lived in Sweden then. And he has been very active on my personal FB as well. Early this year, Ian sent me this message: “Hello Ms. Marlene I don’t know you personally. We haven’t met in person. But we

36 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS have exchanged SMS and private messages on the Internet. I believe though, that our connection is beyond our mental communication. I want you to get to know me better, so here is a very brief introduction of myself. I am Swedish-Filipino, and I am here in the Philippines to further my education. I will finish my studies in April this year, and then I will go back to Sweden. I have been here for more than two years living an ordinary life like most Filipinos. I am not rich, and both of my parents died when I was a teenager. I sent myself to college. I have an adopted child whose name is Pipo, and he is 3 years old. The reason why I am writing you this personal email is because I believe our connection is getting stronger, and many of my beliefs don’t differ from yours. You radiate profanity to the public that only those with special minds could fathom. You have inspired so many and without a doubt, you have touched many individuals in different ways. I really would love to spend time having a conversation with you, without assumptions and pretensions. All I want is to just listen to every word you speak. I may have my own thoughts and ideas that may not be easily altered, but I am open to any concepts that would lead mankind toward change. Actually, I just want to sit with you, even if you didn’t say anything to me at all. Before I leave the Philippines, I just want to meet you in person. I wish to spend some time with you, to experience how it would feel to be in the presence of Marlene Aguilar. That is the simplest way, I could express my admiration for you, and above all offer you my allegiance. I love you Mom, Ian Simon Xoxoxox”

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I replied and wrote: “Darling one, The most important part of any relationship is mental and spiritual. That we have. When I see you on my wall, it makes me happy. You are no stranger to me. Since I first engaged with you on Jsin’s wall, I felt connected to you. Yes, we share the same ideas. Yes, we both wish to change the world for the better. I don’t know what it is about some people who have suffered great loss and pain; they want to bring light to the world. I cried reading your message because I feel your sincerity, your openness, and your truth. It is the only way to be. Truth will bring you to enlightenment. It would bring me great pleasure to meet you, hon. so, please come and visit. With love always, Your soul mother”

After a few more engagements such as this with Ian, he inspired me to write him a song. I have been writing lyrics since August, last year. The first one I wrote was for Jsin, which I will share with you later. Here is the song I wrote for this soul child of mine.

Ian Simon Ian Simon my baby dragon Came from a world unknown He suffered greatly, cried immensely He faced the world alone

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His parents died when he was young They passed to a world unseen He drowned in tears that last forever Alone without his mother

The years went by, so hard he tried To grow his wings to fly He learned to feel for what is real Although his heart is made of steel

CHORUS Ian Simon, Ian Simon, I know your heart is broken But can’t you see my baby dragon Your will is forged by heaven

Ian Simon, Ian Simon Let’s dance the night away Go get your tights, put on your heels Paint your lips and hide your tears

I wrote this song for you my child Because I know you’re heart is gold I wish your pain would go away And true love with you remain

Both of us have known real pain Withstanding storm and rain In endless measures we love and hate With all our hearts we give, not take

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He looked at the sky and he tried to cry But the gods, they smiled at him Because my child so filled with passion He conquered all his demons

CHORUS Ian Simon, Ian Simon, I know your heart is broken But can’t you see my baby dragon Your will is forged by heaven

Ian Simon, Ian Simon Let’s dance the night away Go get your tights, put on your heels Paint your lips and hide your tears

Ian Simon, Ian Simon Close your eyes and stop the tears Ian Simon, Ian Simon Go spread your wings and fly Ian Simon, Ian Simon Fly high my baby dragon

She Dragon March 28, 12

Upon reading these words, Ian responded: “This song goes beyond words, infinitely defined by love and courage. This is such a great honor to have my soul mother, She Dragon Marlene Aguilar, write me my own song.

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I am speechless and in tears. Thank you so much my soul Mother. I am forever grateful and my LOVE for you shall last forever along with my allegiance. My courage and valor, I dedicate to you, beyond love and death.” – Ian Simon During the first week of April, I received a message from Ian saying he was coming to Manila the following day, and that he would like to see me. I told him I would be free early afternoon, and that I would wait for him at home. He did come. “Ian Simon has arrived,” Mary Jean, my personal secretary of 15 years announced, while I sat at the dining table. Immediately, I got up and walked toward the receiving room that led me outside of my home. My home is situated on a hill. I found myself standing on top of my staircase, looking down. There he was, Ian Simon, with his slender stature and breathtaking golden-brown skin. He looked up and saw me. “Hi Ian!” I yelled, smiling and waving at him. He gazed at me from below, smiling as well. Then he ran up the stairs, excited like a child. When he reached the top of the stairs, we embraced; we embraced each other with all our hearts, for what seemed to me forever, while tears fell from my eyes. It is the kind of greeting that is only possible between kindred souls, souls that are eternally entwined through time and space. We went inside the house, and talked. I had made an appointment to visit the spa that afternoon, at a place called Danielli’s, which is not far from Blue Ridge. So, I asked Ian to come with me. He sat by a bed, and we talked while I got a massage. Later, I took him to my sister Tess’ home for my musical rehearsal with my brother in-law and arranger, Abhe Hipolito and his son JC Rey Hipolito, my guitar player. My family expected Ian to come. I had arranged this meeting so my soul child could hear me sing the song I wrote for him. Abhe

41 MARLENE AGUILAR put the melody to it. The tune to this piece sounds to me like an Irish ballad. When we got there, we all sat around my sister’s living room. Abhe sat to my right with his acoustic guitar, and Ian sat close to me, to my left. The lyrics to the song were printed on bond paper, and were placed on the coffee table before us. I gave Ian his own copy. I don’t know how to describe how I felt singing Ian’s song for him that particular afternoon. I had written it for him, hoping it would take away some of his pain. I sat next to him, when Abhe began to pluck the strings of his acoustic guitar, the tune, so beautiful, empowered by deep longing and sadness, filled the room. The melody invaded all my senses. Tears gathered around my eyes as I began to sing, while the sound of the strings gently embraced my voice. During that single moment, I felt the soul of Ian, and the souls of his mother and father. And as I sang his music, I could only feel the overwhelming emotion coming from within him. I, too, was overwhelmed within. Ian Simon and I were then locked into the same abyss. However, I could never put this moment into words. How could I? There is no description for the unknown. After, we went back to my house. Instead of dining inside the house, we prepared a picnic in the garden, surrounded by several candlelights under the magical moon and the stars. Aya, Maya’s schoolmate from the International School in Manila, joined Ian, my daughter and me. All in all, Ian and I had a soulful time together, a day in our lives we will always remember. He left our home around 10pm that evening. When he got back to Mindanao, he wrote this narrative for me via FB: “To my soul Mother Marlene Aguilar: You are really an inspiration to a soul like mine. You are like a sharp and cutting drug that penetrates my spiritual being.

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You are a consanguineous soul that connects with my cosmic elemental existence. I have a thousand words in my thoughts, and I’m struggling to write them down so I could share with the rest of the world how great you are. You are fire-burning starlight that guides wandering souls. You have a captivating indulgence one must experience. You never left my consciousness, and your spirit is still entwined with mine from the moment we first embraced. I felt your openness and welcoming energy at that moment. It was all over your face and the purity of your spirit I saw in your eyes. When I came to see you, I had already accepted death. Still, there was not a single fear in my heart, instead there were tears falling from my eyes during our first meeting. Those tears have waited too long to fall, longing for that moment. Those tears we shed together are tears for oppressed humanity and for lost souls. You have suffered so much pain for mankind. You have embraced pain as you embrace us, your soul children. I pray, ‘Dear gods, spare this woman for humanity needs her in these darkest of hours.’ Thank you so much, soul Mom! It was a great honor to spend time with you. And again, I have fallen in love with you for the third time. - Ian Simon”

Now, I would like to tell you about Farrah Francesca Marasigan. She is very different from Jesuke in that she is soft-spoken, sweet natured and not very good at using bad words at all. In addition, she’s not good at confrontation. She couldn’t fight a battle face to face. She says she wished she could be like her soul sister, but it’s just not in her. However, behind Farrah’s sweetness is another human being totally the opposite. There is a side to her that is manipulative

43 MARLENE AGUILAR and cunning, giving balance and color to her character. Like Jordan and Aimee, Farrah loves to read good books. Therefore, like Jordan, her command of English is better than most of her peers. Farrah is very bright, and beautiful. Moreover, because she’s well read, her mind has grown further than most people her age. This is one of the reasons I can talk to her. I’ve spoken to her on the phone more than any of my baby dragons. There was a time when Jsin was still in the hospital, the time when his fan page was raging with the young nation screaming for justice for him, I needed a medium to express my thoughts and concerns. That medium was Farrah for me. I called her every morning for what seemed to me many months. She was also there for me, bringing me light and laughter during my darkest moments. Before I leave the discussion on Farrah, I would like to add that among my baby dragons, she’s the only one I feel comfortable discussing the subject of sex with. I used to call her and read her sex essays on the phone, as soon as I wrote them. Early this year, in January, I received a beautiful message from Chi Villanueva, a farmer from Davao, a province located in the southern part of the Philippines, and a supporter of mine. Here was her message: “Dear Ma’am Marlene, Good evening. I’m writing to you along with my desire to thank you. These last few days, my life had been filled with many trials. I felt that I was abused and oppressed. What I don’t understand is that every time I feel hurt, I go to your Facebook wall, reading your posts. Reading your writings comforts and calms me down immediately. I also don’t understand why when I see your photos, I find courage I cannot explain. Your image gives me the will to go on fighting.

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You are my inspiration, my modern-day prophet. You have no idea how much you help me in my day-to-day life. My real mother passed away 10 years ago. Now I see you as a living image of my mother who cares for me and gives me strength. Again, thank you very much. May I have the permission to ask for your mailing address, so I could send you some ‘suha’, as my offering. With all my respect Chi Villanueva PS. Please extend my gratitude as well to your baby dragons that manage your Facebook wall.”

This was my reply. “OMG! You make me cry tears of joy. How very touching. What a special soul you have. Thank you. All my love, always.” Ever since, Chi has sent us loads of fruits from Davao, which my family consumes with great pleasure. This soul child of mine wrote,”May I have the permission to ask for your mailing address, so I could send you some ‘suha’, as my offering.” The first package she sent us was indeed filled with these delicious citrus fruits. They look like grapefruit, but they are sweet. What I find intriguing was many years ago, when I arrived at the lady oracle’s office in San Juan. I sat before her to confront the tarot. Mr. Max was nearby reading a newspaper.”Max,” she said.”Can you peel the suha for Marlene?” Immediately, the male oracle produced the fruit, which he took from a basket on the floor. He started peeling it. Meanwhile, the lady seer and I chatted while she began to shuffle the tarot. When Mr. Max was done, he handed the fruit to the woman served on a plate.”Here,” she said giving me

45 MARLENE AGUILAR the platter.”Eat this.” I took the gift and started eating it.”Don’t you want some?” I asked her.”Mr. Max, don’t you want some?” I asked him as well. They both shook their heads to say no, while the lady oracle watched me eat the fruit, smiling.”We can’t eat the fruit, which is our offering to you, silly” she stated.”The skin we will boil, and use the water for bathing images of Buddhist saints,” she explained. Suha is a fruit that is normally used as offerings to Buddhist saints. Anyway, because of the kindness of this soul daughter of mine, she inspired me to write a song for her, entitled Chi.

Chi I see the forest, I see the trees I see the mountains and the seas With glowing heart, I see the land So rich and nurtured by your hands

You sow the earth, you plant the seeds The sun watches with pride indeed From green to gold you tend your farm Through rain and shine oh blessed one

CHORUS I love the country, I hate the city Of father Ra, be kind to me Grant my wish and send me back To the farming lands I miss so much

Chi is energy of ying and yang

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She gave me fruits so gold and round In Davao, she is a farmer I wrote this song to honor her

I was born in the countryside Of golden land so far and wide How I miss the smell of the farm I envy you, oh Chi of Davao

CHORUS I love the country, I hate the city Of father Ra, be kind to me Grant my wish and send me back To the farming lands I miss so much

She Dragon January 17, 12

Around this time last year, the crew of TV 5 came to my house, headed by television hosts Ariel Villasanta and a man they call Maverick, who dressed in such loud opposing colors, I can’t remember his face. Prior to their arrival, they asked if I could invite some of my baby dragons, since their purpose for the interview was the show’s celebration of Mother’s day. So, I invited Kennitoh de la Merced, his girlfriend, Aika, Marco Fortuny, Anton Abella and Dhada Peral. They all came. Kennitoh is a very good graphic artist and over the last two years he created several images of Jsin and me, which he posted in cyberspace, along with posters that are against the government. Marco Fortuny, who appears to me more like an Italian than a

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Filipino, is one of the sweetest, most generous and loving of the soul children I have. He protested with me in front of the US Embassy against Obama and US Ambassador Harry Thomas over a year ago. Marco didn’t grow up with his parents.”I was an unwanted child. My parents never lived together,” he told me. I was told his grandmother raised him. He had twice asked me to meet him and his friends in a Persian restaurant in Makati City named Hussein’s during times when he needed the advice of a motherly figure. I heeded his request on both of occasions, and I enjoyed the time we spent together. I have this special relationship with some of my cosmic children. I am there when they need me, and vice-versa. I don’t believe these young men and women realize that as I nurture them, they nurture me. I learn from them as well. I met Anton Abella, Christmas evening in 2010, when a group of my supporters from the Internet came to celebrate this special time with me. I spent some time talking to Anton that night. I found him open and sincere, also brave and loving. Most of all, he had depth. I realized then, he was born a warrior like Jesuke. Dhada Peral had been on Jsin Ivler’s fan page from the moment it began. She had offered her support in every possible way she could. One time, she pawned her cell phone just so she could attend the court hearing with me. At the time, she lived outside of the city, in a place called Cavite. Dhada is sweet natured and is not a vicious fighter like Jesuke. However, I have never asked her for anything or any favor she didn’t grant. She would go out of her way every time to help. She is one of my genuine supporters, always there when needed. I had asked my soul children to arrive during lunchtime so we could all share a meal together and talk. They were all excited to be with me and be in the company of one another.

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The television crew arrived at around three in the afternoon. First, they filmed us inside my living room. Afterward, we all moved outside in the garden. I sat on the steps of my pool surrounded by my soul children from the Internet. Suddenly, Maya arrived from school, so she joined us. At one point during this affair, TV host Ariel pointed the microphone to Marco Fortuny’s mouth, and all of a sudden, he asked,”Who do you love more? Your real Mom or the She Dragon?” To my surprise, Marco pointed to me and he replied with the softest voice,”I love her more.” When I heard this, I felt something inside the pit of my stomach; I had never known to exist, like some life that was foreign to me. I stared at my soul son’s beautiful face in shock, as I tried to hold back my tears. In my mind, I thought, what did his mother ever do to cause him such pain? I would absolutely die if my children were to say such a thing. That would bring me pain I couldn’t bear. My heart was ripped for Marco. I wanted to hold him in my arms, so I could give him my love, hoping that would ease the pain in his heart. “Why do you love Mommy Marlene more?” the TV host asked. “Because, she’s there for me. My real mother isn’t,” Marco replied. What is even more shocking was the TV host asked the same question to Kennitoh, Anton and Dhada. All three gave the same answer. Although in the case of the latter, I believe she was just angry with her Mom that one particular day. When asked why Dhada loves me more than her real mother, she answered,”Mommy Marlene listens. My real mother doesn’t. All we do is fight.” I find it so heartbreaking that relationships between parents and children are sometimes clouded with so much pain. I had a difficult time with my son Colby when he was a child;

49 MARLENE AGUILAR maybe because I was working all the time; maybe because I made decisions that hurt him; maybe because we are so much alike, like my father and me. I don’t know. Let me rephrase that. I had an impossible time with my son Colby. He and I fought so much in the past. I think we will both be traumatized from our battles for the rest of our lives! I’m smiling a big smile now, after typing that last statement. That’s one thing I find absolutely amazing about my relationship with my younger son, he and I can both laugh at our painful experiences. Jason and I can’t. Our pain drowns us both in grief. Here’s a story about Colby, which I posted on FB recently. I came home from Europe one afternoon and found nine- year-old Colby in the kitchen smoking a cigarette. Me to Colby - OMG! You’re smoking? Colby to me - What? Would you rather I smoke weed? Me to Colby - Yeeeaaaah! It’s better for you!

Here below are the reactions toward my statement. Anton Tolentino wrote,”If you become a senator, will you push for legalization of Marijuana in the Philippines? I replied,”Absolutely!!! But I’m not a politician. I’m a revolutionary.’ Anton answered,”Let’s put a revolutionary in the Senate then!”

Eric de los Santos wrote,”I wish my Mom were as cool as Mommy Marlene.” I wrote back saying,”Eric, I am your soul Mom though. :D” “It’s a gift that I have a Mom like Mommy Marlene. I love you Mom.”

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My soul son Marco Fortuny stated,”She has no equal.” I told Marco,”I know total freedom. Most mothers don’t. A mother can only allow freedom for her children, if she has it to give. After this statement, Marco wrote something so beautiful; it made me cry tears of joy. He stated: “Inay marlene, kaya mahal na mahal po namin kayo, kasi nasasabi ang lahat sa inyo ng walang takot, ng walang pangamba na baka mahusgahan kami. At may kumpyansa kami Inay na mali man o tama alam namin maiintindhan nyo po kami. Salamat Inay Marlene, mahal namin kayo...” (Mommy Marlene, the reason why we love you so much is because we can tell you everything without hesitation and fear. We’re not afraid that you would judge us. And Mom, we are confident that right or wrong, you will give us your understanding. Thank you Mommy Marlene, we love you….) Here below was my reply to my soul son’s statement. “Marco, what you wrote is so beautiful. Ang galing mo palang mag Tagalog anak, daig mo ako. (You speak English so well, better than me.) I will write my thoughts in English, otherwise I won’t be able to express it as well. When you love someone, you must love them completely, not just the good parts, but the bad parts as well. Part of loving a person is giving them freedom, freedom to express themselves, freedom to make mistakes, freedom to explore life. The job of a mother is to be there always, through thick and thin, right or wrong, tears or laughter. A mother must allow their children plenty of room for mistakes, so they will grow. Jsin and I have suffered unspeakable tragedy together, yet we regret nothing. Why? Because one must accept life as it comes. If only mothers knew that it is when their children are WRONG - when they need their LOVE the most.”

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Let’s go back to Colby, who I also call Damien, Hannibal and Saddam. I constantly remind him he is the son of the devil. When I was a child, each time my mother got frustrated with me, she would say,”I hope someday you have a child as impossible as you! Then you’d know what kind of hell you put your parents through!” Sure enough the witch’s spell came to fruition. I had Colby as a son. Here’s a fight we had when Damien was around 13 years old. “You love Jason more than me! You love Steve more than me! You love your secretary Mary Jean more than me! Hell, you even love your computer more than me! You don’t love meee!!!!” Colby yelled at me as if I was on top of Mt. Olympus and he was on earth, never mind if he was standing only three feet away from me. I stared at him, wanting to strangle him to oblivion, except I would never lift a finger to hurt my children. I made a vow when I was a child while my father beat me that I would never inflict physical pain upon those I love. So far, I have kept this promise. “Colby, of course I love you. How can I not love you? That’s not possible! You are my own flesh and blood. Loving you comes naturally. Of course, I love you!” I replied with a normal voice, trying my best not to yell, but with Damien staring at me with his demon eyes challenging my authority, while I spoke, he made it impossible for me to control my temper. “BUT LIKE YOU, I DO NOT! That, you will have to earn!” I screamed at Damien back. I cannot count how many terrible fights Colby and I had over the years. His relationship with me is so entirely the opposite compared to my affinity with his older brother Jason who would never raise his voice to me. Yet, my connection with each of them is equally powerful but from opposing sides of the spectrum. One is powered

52 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS by yin, while the other is powered by yang. My bond with my boys is like my connection to Caesar and Gabriel. Like Jason, Caesar calms me down, and we rarely argue. On the other hand, Colby is like Gabriel, who challenges my mind and pushes me to the unknown. People have asked me to compare Jason and Colby. I don’t know how you could compare the two. As far as I’m concerned, each of my sons is a separate galaxy altogether. From the time they were teenagers, I knew they would grow up to be men I would admire and respect. Colby has a mind that would blow your mind. Both left and right side of his brain functions at extremely high levels, which means in school, he’s good at everything; science, math, art, music, and whatever. In addition, like me, the boy has immense ability to survive. On top of that, he is cunning and manipulative. I don’t know what it is but at a very young age, Colby knew he was exceptional, maybe it’s the wild animal in him that could smell people. And yes, smell people he could, which is why I also call him Hannibal Lector from the movie Silence of the Lambs. Therefore, from the time he was a little boy, Colby walked around the planet sneering at people, both young and old. I told you, if I start talking about my younger son, I could go and on. So I’m going to cut his portion of this chapter short. Later, I would like to write a novel about the people that made a difference in my life. Damien is one of them, of course. Anyway, at the age of 13, the Principal from Montessori de San Juan, Rowena Chaymo refused to accept Colby’s enrollment in school. She said that the boy should not continue with high school, because he should go to college. After Miss Chaymo gave this announcement, I called my mother Barbara in the US. “Mom, the principal in Colby’s school refused his enrollment. She

53 MARLENE AGUILAR said he should go to college,” I told her, worried.”I don’t know what to do? What should I do?” “Darling, honestly I don’t know what to say” she answered gently. “Oh Mom, what’s he going to do away from school? I don’t want to send him to college. He’s so young. The big boys would beat the shit out of him.” “Truthfully, he doesn’t really need school dear,” my Jewish mother said.”Let me tell you this about Colby,” she added with her loving voice.”I have worked as counselor at the Child Guidance Clinic in the city of Stamford for over 30 years, and I have never met any child like Colby. When he was four years old, I gave him a test, which we normally give to children around that age. I gave him a piece of paper and pencil. Then I asked him to draw the front figure of a man. So, he drew the front figure of a man. After that, I asked him to draw the backside of the man. Do you know what he did? Do you know what Colby did? He flipped the paper upside down, and on the other side, he drew the back figure of a man. I have never seen any child do that. So you see, Colby sees the world from an entirely different perspective than the rest of mankind. What should we do with him? I don’t know, honey. There is no other like him in this world.” Colby stopped going to school, while our terrible fights at home continued. There were times our verbal wars would send my secretary Mary Jean in tears running out of the house, so she couldn’t hear Damien and me argue. When he was 15 years old, Colby and I had this confrontation. “For as long as you’re living under my roof, you will obey my rules,” I told him. “I won’t obey your rules,” he answered firmly.

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“Then we can’t live in the same house, Colby. That’s it. You’ll have to find another home. You can stay with your Lola, or Tita Tess, or Tita Aida in the US, or you could live with Tito Tony in Sweden. But we can’t continue living like this, and fighting all the time.” By the way, lola is grandmother in Tagalog. Hannibal chose to go to Europe to live with my younger brother, Tony. While he was there, he accepted odd jobs like picking apples and working as a dishwasher at the restaurant where my brother worked as a chef. During the 10 months he was there, we never said a word to each other, not one. Then one day, I received an email from Colby. He wrote,”Hi Mom. Can I come home now?” I wrote him back at once and said,”Of course. I will send you the money for the ticket right away.” About a week after that email correspondence, Steve and I picked up Colby at the airport when he arrived in the Philippines. How changed he looked. Our separation had caused him pain; I could see it in his eyes. But it was grief we both had to endure. We needed to be apart. It was necessary for our mutual growth. He left me a boy and returned to me a man. My relationship with Colby changed drastically after that. It was like a coin that had flipped to the other side. Since that time, we have never argued as we did when he was a child. The last time we almost had an altercation was when he was living at home, before he went to attend college at the University of Nevada. Colby raised both his hands, and looked into my eyes seriously.”Mom, we both know where this is going to lead us if we continue. And we both don’t want to go there. So, let me walk away. We’ll continue this conversation another time,” he said respectfully, and with a cool voice. I noted his warning and let him go. I have never told my children to get high grades in school. I never

55 MARLENE AGUILAR pushed them to excel academically. High grades are not proof that a child has exceptional intellect. In my personal opinion, most of the time, academic excellence is nothing but a clear sign that the poor child will live an extremely boring life inside the box, just like his mind-numbing parents. I tell my children that all I expect is for them to get passing grades; because what matters to me most is that they enjoy their education and their childhood years. Maya’s first educational experience was at Brent International School in Pasig. I think she must have been five years old at the time. I didn’t want her to attend school before that. I’m not like other parents who are in a rush to shove their poor kids inside the halls of institutions. Later on, Steve and I were asked to attend a meeting with Maya’s teacher to discuss her growth and performance in class. “Don’t give Maya’s teacher a heart attack,” Steve told me as we stepped out of the car at the Brent parking lot. When we arrived at the classroom, I saw a number of modules and charts that the teacher prepared for the meeting. Two parents stepped out of the class as Steve and I took our seats. We greeted Maya’s so-called educator, and she greeted us back with the same false pleasantry she gave all the other parents. She was overweight, and she dressed conservatively. She appeared to me like someone who attends mass in church every Sunday, which is a sign that she has absolutely no mind of her own. She is a slave of the box. After giving us a little more of her fake pleasantries, we all sat down together. She then proceeded to grab the modules and give us the same ‘oral diarrhea’ she had given the other parents who came before us. Immediately, I grabbed her right hand with mine gently and stopped her circus performance. Then I looked her in the eye and said,”You don’t have to show us how Maya is performing academically. I already know she has more of a mind than most

56 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS people on earth by virtue of the fact that we are her parents. Maya is definitely intelligent. Therefore, she will learn her alphabet and her numbers like the other children in your class. But what matters to me is that Maya enjoys her time in your class. Her happiness in this school means more to me than the ABCs and the numbers in your charts.” I haven’t given you my daughter’s teacher’s name yet because when I asked Maya, she answered,”Ask Mary Jean. She remembers. I don’t want to remember her name because she was mean. I hate her.” According to Mary Jean, this incompetent teacher’s name is Baldoria. ( Note - We’ve to call Brent to get her full name.) Where there is yin, there is yang. The worst year of my life was the year 2010 when those NBI hoodlums attacked my home. Maya was then in the second grade. Her teacher at the time was concerned for my little girl because”there were moments she would stare at nothing while in class.” She had withdrawn to another world, because of the tragic pain we had all faced. Her school year ended in June, and began again in August when she started third grade. I will never forget her coming homing from school after the first day of her class. “Oh Mom, I have a new teacher,” she said smiling a most triumphant smile, as she marched into the living room one afternoon.”His name is Mr. O’Neel, and he’s the best teacher ever!” “Wow! That’s great!” I stated.”Where’s he from? “The US,” she answered. “Is he handsome, too?” I asked my daughter, laughing. “Oh Moooooom!” she answered prolonging the letter ‘o’ in the Mom. “Answer the question. I bet he’s handsome too, isn’t he?” I declared.

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“Yes, he is,” Maya answered. “That means you have a crush on him,” I said giggling. “Oh, Mooooooooom! I can’t believe you’d say that,” Maya yelled.”That’s it, I’m going to tickle your tummy!” “Tickle all you want, but I say you have a crush on Mr. O’ Neel!” I hollered back. “No, I don’t!” she yelled attacking me with her tiny fingers tickling me, while I laughed out loud. Ever since, Maya would come home from school happy telling me stories about her beloved teacher. So it was endless stories of”Mr. O’ Neel this, and Mr. O’ Neel that…” “Oh Mom, can you make me my favorite chicken dish tomorrow for lunch? And can you make extra for Mr. O’Neel? I want him to taste your chicken with cashew nuts,” she told me one day. And of course, I was more than happy to oblige. Many times she’d ask,”Oh Mom, is it okay for you to buy me cupcakes. I’ll bring them to school, and I’m going to give some to Mr. O’ Neel, too.” Obviously, the love and admiration Maya felt for her teacher Mr. Travis O’ Neel is a reflection of the genuine care and kindness he gave her. How kind heaven is to send my daughter the best and loving teacher during the darkest year of our lives. Travis, I know you will read this, because I will make you read it. Know that Maya, my entire family and I will forever be grateful to you for giving Maya love and light when she needed it most. Anyway, despite the fact I never asked my children to pursue high grades, Jason graduated top of his class when he finished his degree in Psychology at Hawaii Pacific University. More than that, Colby has consistently gotten the highest GPA in his class since he attended college in Nevada. He is taking Cinematography, and he

58 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS told me he was having great fun in the process. I believe children follow the actions of their parents more than their words. They learn from example. Going back to my soul children on FB, one day, Aimee sent me a message asking me to answer a question for her school project. The question was”Who am I?” This was the response I gave Scorpie. “Who Am I I am an old soul that has evolved further than most spirits in this matrix. I have no greed, because I know that I was born with nothing. And I will die with nothing. Moreover, I have no fear of death, because I know that my soul is eternal. Therefore, I know I will live forever. I have the ability to put this world aside and detach myself. I am not a slave to the strictures of society and other institutions. I am not a prisoner of the laws of mankind. I only abide by the laws of the great cosmic forces and the ONE creator who rules all that is, here and beyond. And this ONE creator is both yin and yang, good and evil, driven by infinite lightness and blackness. Therefore, like my creator, I am good and evil in equal but infinite measures. I have no beginning. And I have no end. That is who I am.” This is Jordan’s response to my short narrative above. “Who is Marlene Aguilar? I have pondered that question a million times in my head. I have tried to put you in an allegorical context, like, for example; my grandmother is compassion, and my father is anger. But for you, I tried to think of you manifesting as wisdom, but you’re more than that. Love? You’re more than that too. So, I settled for one, which is, nature. You are a manifestation of Mother Nature to me. You are the perfect balance of the universe, the absolute pitch in music. You are everything.”

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People who have suffered greatly possess some kind of wisdom and humility alien to most of you. These are the rare individuals who have mastered and conquered the agony that comes with being alive, and they power through life head-on, despite its trials. These chosen people possess a kind of beauty that comes from within the very depth of their soul. Still, these magical souls shine; they shine like the brightest stars in the darkest of skies. They are the bravest of the brave because they have traveled to the darkest side and returned. There is a kind of beauty so distinct and intoxicating, only pain could exude.

60 Chapter 2

Of Wants and Needs

I visited Jsin the day after Mother’s Day. I told him about Maya’s present for me, and how happy it made me. “That’s the kind of stuff you give someone you have sex with,” he said smiling a devious smile.”I suppose daughters are different.” Since Steve went to Turks and Caicos, I’ve been going out with Diane every weekend for dinner. She is half Persian, half Filipina, and she is Jsin’s girlfriend. The gods have been so kind to this 28-year-old woman. They gifted her with such exquisite and chiseled features, she looks to me like a work of art carved by a master sculptor. In addition, she has the most pleasant voice to complement her fine physique. To me, she is beautiful within and without. We have a peculiar relationship Diane and I, in that we have formed a special friendship between ourselves, separate from her relationship with my son. Diane has child-like ways you wouldn’t expect to find from a good-looking woman such as her, which I find so fascinating. When we go out together, she’s sure to keep an eye on the people surrounding us to see if anyone recognizes me. Currently, and over the past two years, I have been proclaimed

61 MARLENE AGUILAR the bravest woman of the Philippines. Many members of the young nation, including my family members, call me She Dragon. I hold the title of being one of the most controversial women in the country as well. So there are occasions when a stranger would confront me in the most unexpected places. For example, one evening, Becca and I went out to eat at the Paparazzi restaurant at the Shangri- la Hotel. After dinner, we went to the bathroom together. To my surprise, when I stepped out of the loo, a woman wearing a blue gown stood there facing me, smiling at me all excited, as she held her camera.”Can we have our picture taken together Miss Marlene? I’ll put it on Facebook.” She asked. One day, just recently, I stepped out of the boxing ring after sparring, sweating like a racehorse, catching my breath. Then a man came up to me and asked if we could have our photo taken together. In my head, I thought,”Dear god, I must look horrible.” So, I asked the man to give me few minutes so I could go to the bathroom, and gather myself together. I am a very private person. I do not care for places with crowds like the mall. So, part of me wanted to tell that man and that woman to get lost, but I couldn’t. I would never do such a thing. I have never been rude to strangers approaching me. Most of these fans are my allies on FB, and they have supported me during my tragic days. Because of that, I will always be grateful to them. And if a picture with me would give them joy, I would be more than happy to reciprocate their kindness, and grant their request. I have plenty of stories such as this. My life changed drastically after that dreadful raid in my home. I have become a household name in the Philippines because of the tri-media’s terrible hate campaign against me. Today I can no longer leave the house without my face powdered since at any given point in time, a

62 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS stranger might approach asking me to pose with him or her for a sudden pictorial. So, when we are out together, Diane makes sure to pay attention to the people around us, studying their reaction toward us. One day, while we stood in front of the elevator at the Hyatt Hotel, there were a group of people to our left side also waiting for the lift to open. “Tita, did you notice what they were doing? That group of people standing near us, did you see what they were doing?” she expressed, smiling innocently, as soon as we entered the elevator. “No,’ I replied. “Didn’t you see? First one noticed you, then he told the rest,” she reported, excited like a child.”And then they were all whispering to each other about you, staring at you. Afterward, one took his mobile phone, hid behind the other, and started taking your picture,” she continued, giggling. “Really?” I stated, laughing “Yeah,” she added.”And I heard one say, ‘Sheee Dragooon…’” Steve had been away now for over three months, and once a week I’d take Diane to two of my favorite restaurants, the Fireplace located at the Hyatt Hotel, which is so hidden. From the lobby, you have to go up a few floors, and then you’d have to cut through the middle of an elegant Chinese restaurant to get there. The other one is the Old Manila, located at Manila Peninsula Hotel, a place I’ve frequented with Marcus since age seventeen. Outside of these establishments, there is only a handful of other places where I would eat. I go out to dine as soon as these restaurants open, which in the case of Fireplace is at six p.m. The hospitable crew protects me from other diners by putting the reserve signs on the two tables

63 MARLENE AGUILAR adjacent to my favorite spot, which is always the most private in the entire room. This way, no one sits near me. I hate to hear the petty conversations of other people while dining, especially those who find the need to yell at each other while consuming food. I certainly do not wish to see them. There is something so special in the restaurants I visited in Europe. The patrons, on top of being dressed eloquently, ate quietly, and spoke to each other softly. Their gentle behavior allowed a pleasing ambiance to those exquisite places, which I find so appealing to the senses. This is not the case with Filipinos, no matter how wealthy or how well traveled they are. The etiquette of fine dining is utterly alien to most of them. They don’t realize that banquet in certain brasseries is a sacred ritual to some, which must be treated with some refinement. Fortunately, the other places where I dine give me the same courtesy. They cordon my area, giving me discretion. Entry to the Fireplace brings you to a small receiving room, where you will find their collection of wines displayed on two walls. There, you are greeted by Marianne, their head attendant, who would then walk you to your table. The main hall of this elegant dining place has a high ceiling with tables at the center set further apart in comparison to other eating-places, allowing their guests ample room. On one side of the place, facing you as you enter, are brown cushioned booths adorned with soft red pillows, which could sit a maximum of four people. To the left side of the entrance against the limestone wall is the open kitchen situated in the center facing the main dining area. That also faces a glass wall that gives you a view of the people passing by the place, most of whom are hotel guests. In this open kitchen, the patrons can see the master chef with his sous-chef and four other cooks preparing fine dishes. The lighting to the whole place is very soft and gentle to the senses.

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One evening, I sat in of the booths with my back against the wall. This area is the most secluded section of the restaurant where I could see almost the entirety of the place. This is where I always sit. Billie Holiday sang Georgia On My Mind in the background. Diane sat across me, both of us delighted to confront this weekly ritual, giving us a break from the mundane reality of the world outside. Marianne served the bottle of Fleur du Cap Cabernet Sauvignon, and served us our wines in big goblets. Diane and I raised our glasses, said, ”Cheers!” to each other and started drinking, and talking. “Look at those people at the other side of the room. They’ve been reading the menu for the last 30 minutes. What a waste of time. People who read the menu don’t know how to eat.” “Why Tita?” “Because, before you get to the restaurant you should already know what you want to eat, whether it’s soup, salad, steak, seafood or pasta. So, if I were going to a restaurant such as this for the first time, I’d call for the Chef. Then I’d ask him to bring me the best soup, or salad, or steak, or seafood or pasta or whatever it is I want to eat that night. I’d tell him he knows best so he should decide for me. I’m in his hands. It’s that simple. If you do this, then the Chef would immediately place you above the other morons reading the menu. He knows you know how to eat, and he’d make sure your food is treated with better care than the others. That’s how you eat. The menu is there for the rest of dumb mankind.” The following week, when we returned to the Fireplace, Diane said,”Tita, some of my friends, they asked me if you’re the real mother of J because you look so young. They think you’re the step Mom.

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“Really? That’s so funny,” I said, giggling. “Actually, the first time I went to your house, and while I was in J’s room, I saw a sexy photo of you. At the time, I also thought you were his step Mom. And when I saw he kept a sexy photo of you in his room, I thought, ‘Oh my god, he’s in love with his step Mama.” “Really?” I said breaking up.”That’s so funny! Colby has photos of me in his room, too. You find those sexy? But they’re just showing my face.” “And my friends, they saw your sexy photos on FB. They think you’re so hot, and they’re wondering how you are in sex. Someone said, ‘I wonder if she’s as hot as she looks.” Laughing out load, I answered,”Sex?” I laughed some more, unable to control myself. “Well, to most people sex is a physical act. It isn’t to me. Sex like that is only the clashing of two bodies like you see in porno movies. I graduated from that when I was 23. Imagine this; think of having the entire splendor involving physical sex, then go beyond that so that it becomes mental and spiritual as well. In that way, you’re confronting an engagement in various levels, mind, body and spirit, allowing you to experience the greatest unknown. Plus, when you get to that level of sex, sky is the limit, and the choices are endless. In that dimension, right or wrong doesn’t exist, because the mind allows total freedom. I’m a very loyal person. I prefer one lover at a time. But if you can connect with your sexual partner in mind, body and spirit, then, anything is possible at that point. The mind and the spirit are very powerful tools that can command the body to create all sorts of possibilities, all sorts of scenarios, and all sorts of games, connecting you to one unknown after the other. Why do you think all my lovers in the past became obsessed

66 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS with me? I violated them all sexually. Almost all the men in my life became my sex slaves. They were my sex toys. I made them do all sorts of shit, unimaginable to most people,” I continued giggling myself to death, while Diane paid attention to every word I said, with her big brown eyes wide open, and fascinated. “Oh you don’t know, you girls just don’t know. Men like being violated. Even the most powerful man on earth would like to be dominated sexually. But he would only surrender to someone like me, Lucifer on earth herself.” I continued laughing so hard I couldn’t breath. “Oh my god, Tita! That’s something I’ve never heard before.” “Live life Diane, and fuck the rest of the world! You know when Tito Steve thought we were going to get separated, he told my friends Tita Celeste and Tita Carol that ‘even if he had all the money in the world, he couldn’t buy the sex I give him. Plus, he said ‘I am all the porno movies in one body, and more.’ Tito Steve was married twice before me; once to a Brit and the other was American. You know what he says? He said to me, ‘He was a virgin until I had sex with him. Actually, according to him, all men are virgins until they have sex with me,’” I went on giggling some more. “You know your French friend Gui? The guy who wanted to meet me? I checked out his photos on FB. And you know? I’m sure most women would think he’s drop-dead gorgeous and sexy, whereas I’d rather fuck a dildo than go to bed with a man like that. You know why? He looks empty within. Good looks aren’t enough for me. A man must have character, and he must be free in mind and spirit. That man Gui looks sanitized. You know what I mean by sanitized? Sanitized like a dental clinic, like a hospital, void of substance and erotic juices. He’s sanitized in mind, body and spirit.

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He’s the kind of man who would take a shower before and after sex, and who’d need to watch porno to get a hard-on. I just don’t find people like that sensually arousing. On the contrary, they turn me off! Yuck! Some people are so structured they put limitations on life. Imagine me having sex with a man like that? No fucking’ way! Do you see how animals do it in the wild? Before they fuck they growl at each other like the beasts that they are. And they look like they’re hurting each other, but they’re not! Not really. They are hurting each other, yes on one hand, and not on the other. Because sexually, there’s a way of inflicting pain along with pleasure, giving more intensity to the latter. It’s called sadomasochism. Deep within, we are all animals like those creatures in the wild but only people like me can bring that out in the open naturally, because I’m free. So, why the fuck should I even bother with men like Gui?” Here is another interesting conversation between Diane and me during one of our dinner meetings at the Fireplace. Her narrative is in Italics. “Hey, whatever happens to you and J, you’d always be my daughter,” I said to her. “I know, Tita. I’m beginning to question the actions of other mothers because of you. My girlfriends, they hate the Moms of their boyfriends because they’re not nice to them, and they compete with them. The mothers find things wrong with their son’s girlfriends so there’s always conflict. Even my Mom is like that.” “Why should I compete with my son’s girlfriend? On the contrary, I’m grateful to you because you love him, and you make him happy. And for that reason, it’s easy for me to love you.” “Yes Tita, but you know that’s not the case with other mothers.”

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“Well, this is the way it’s supposed to be. Those mothers are wrong, I’m right. Plus, how could I compete with you? I never question Jason’s love for me. And his love for you is totally different. You can’t compare the two, so there’s no competition.” “I actually spoke to my Mom. And I told her about you and your relationship with J, and how you’re so good to me. I asked her why she couldn’t be like you to my brother’s girlfriends. She said it’s because she doesn’t believe my brother Daryoush would have the strength of J to protect his family. I told her that J told me that he loves me and all, but if I ever do anything to disrespect his family, meaning you, Colby, Maya and even Tito Steve, that would be the end of us. When I told this to my Mom, she said, ‘You see! You see! Jason would say that to you, whereas I don’t think your brother could ever protect his family from his girlfriends that way!’” “But she raised her son. How he is, is how she raised him. She doesn’t trust him, because she doesn’t trust herself. In Jason’s life, there have only been a few girls who mattered to him. Honestly, I’ve never disliked any of them. In that sense, I admire his taste. Plus, I’ve kept a good relationship with them, even after they broke up. I had to counsel a few after the relationships ended because they were devastated. They will always be my soul daughters.” Over the years, when Paulie would come to the house to do our regular tarot readings, there had been times he would stare at the cards for what seemed to me endlessly, as if the moving images printed on them spoke to him. While he contemplated, I gazed at the tarot, too. Someone had touched the old ones we used to use and that was forbidden, so we changed our set of cards. I just realized recently, we have been using the Tarot of the Renaissance

69 MARLENE AGUILAR for the past two and half years. I bought this set from Fullybooked, a bookstore at Eastwood City, which is not far from the house. As always, I’m the only one allowed to confront this deck. The tarot is a separate world on its own, but a mirror of ours. One fine afternoon before sunset, the Buddhist oracle scrutinized the cards, bewitched. I had entered its domain, hypnotized, diving into the unknown. Suddenly, some of the images on the Tarot became real to me, parading before me, all dressed in full regalia. Then I heard Paulie’s voice in my head,”You are the Empress. You will sit in your thrown. You are also the Queen of Swords, the Mistress of Death, the Queen of Wands, the Queen of Pentacles, and the High Priestess. Moreover, you are Gaea and the Holy Grail, as well.” Instantly, I saw myself dressed as the Warrior Queen on horseback, raging on the battlefield. The Devil stood close; I could feel her in my head, commanding my black horse to gallop faster than light and into the wind. The Tower of Destruction stood high and mighty behind me on top of a great mountain, covered by heavy clouds, empowered by Death and threatening every life on earth, near and far. There were hundreds and thousands of men from both sides prepared to kill one another. I lead my army of red knights on horseback, brave as the sun, fearing neither death nor life, all geared to kill or die. Unknown to them, each of them was bound to me by a great spell from the moment they came into being. They were all here in this matrix to fight this Great War with me. There is no escape. My horse charged recklessly toward the enemy. I could feel the wind lashing at my face with rage. I could feel my stallion’s heart beating fast like mine excited and unafraid, because like me, he was bred for battle. To my right, I noticed one knight bolder than the rest, beaming as the sun, riding on a white horse as gallant as mine.

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With his right hand he held his golden sword forward, the tip of its blade pointed at the enemy, threatening to destroy them. It was then I realized he was my army’s general. I reminded myself that while in the state of trance, I had seen this weapon before floating in the galaxies, awaiting its owner. I have seen it many times as it changed ownership through space and time. This celestial artwork was forged in heaven by the bravest warrior angel, who once defied the one and only God that created all that is. It was a gift to a King in Egypt once upon a time, a time which is now forgotten by man. This steel is the Sword of Fire, the transmitter of world peace and Ra’s ultimate gift to man. However, only his chosen son on earth could claim it, bring it to life and empower it to burn. In the wrong hands, it is nothing more than a precious piece of antiquity. I could see the brilliant sword burning in flames, but I couldn’t see the knight who held it. I couldn’t see him at all. He was faceless to me. Who is he? I asked myself. Who is he? I asked myself again. He looked to his left and for a quick moment he glanced at my sword that I gripped with fortitude with my right hand, as he held his, except mine was platinum. And this divine armament was forged with a teardrop from every twinkling star in the galaxies, the moon included. Those tears were born out of darkness and pain, where forth light is born. This sword, my sword, is the Sword of Lucifer. I saw the Devil inside me bolt out in the open, her white gossamer gown drifting and dancing, flirting with the moving air. She went after the man with the golden blade. She does not exist in the physical form, this vital part of me, since her essence is pure energy. Moreover, no one else could see her but me. Instantly, she encircled the knight, floating and swaying around him with eminent grace, alien to mortal beings. She wavered closer around him smiling, licking her thick luscious lips. With her vicious and long sensuous fingers, she

71 MARLENE AGUILAR gently touched the warrior playfully, and all over, scrutinizing him. Then she mounted his horse from behind him. Instantly, she had her arms wrapped around him from behind, the right side of her beautiful face rested against his back momentarily, while she gazed into my eyes, giving me the most cunning of smiles. Unknown to the man and in the blink of an eye, Lucifer raised her head with the speed of lightning, and sunk her teeth into the right side of his neck. Blood dripped gently now through his flesh, while she tasted him and feasted upon his very life, shrieking with pure ecstasy. With this gesture, the goddess of darkness had invaded the man’s soul and corrupted him for all eternity. Straightaway, she vanished into the man’s body through his back, and quickly I saw her come out the other side. Afterward, she drifted before him momentarily, pleased, looking satiated, and triumphant. Later, she returned inside me once more, taking her place at the core of my being. Finally, I heard Lucifer inside my brain hissing with a voice so absorbing; it was intoxicating,”Ride close to the knight with the Sword of Fire. Lead him to ride against the wind and against all odds. He will follow you to the end of Hades if he must. To win your battle is his fate. You must fight side-by-side. Only then will you conquer the battle against man and the earth. It is the will of all-that-is.” All of a sudden, I heard Paulie shrieking in the background, like a parrot being strangled to its doom. Instantaneously, I was thrown back into this reality. And there was the oracle exactly where I left him, sitting before me, consumed by the tarot. I saw both his hands, palms down, resting upon the table. His fingers and wrists were adorned with all sorts of expensive jewels, precious stones and other trinkets. Suddenly, he raised both hands and placed them on the sides of his face.

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“Thank god, I’m not a man! Because if I were a man, I’d run away from you as far as I could!” He declared screaming with such a hi- pitched feminine voice. Such distinct sound could only come out of the mouth of a flamboyant, gay man of Paulie’s queenly stature. “I swear Medusa was like you! No man dared look at her, because when they did she owned them, forever!” He continued still blaring, while staring at the cards. He appeared to me as if the energy of the pictures before him had engulfed him into their void. I stared at him quietly with my left hand on my face, amused at the oracles’ theatrical explosion. “You afflict every person that comes close to you, young and old, male or female. Your sex is like a magnet to all sorts of creatures; no one is safe with you. The tarot says your vagina is a vortex! And that your sex comes with your curse! You put a black spell on all those who come near you, so they crave your sex without end!!! You intoxicate them with that vile pussy of yours! You’re a witch!!! What kind of magic do you hide in your pussy anyway? Give me some of it!!! Give it to me now!!! Oh thank god!!! Thank god, I’m not a man!!! Thank god, I’m not a lesbian!!! I’m a flower!!! That’s right!!! I’m the most beautiful flower in La-la land!!! NO!!! NO!!! Wait!!! Wait!!! I’m not a flower!!! I don’t look like a flower!!! I’m a mermaid!!! Yes, I’m a mermaid!!! Thank god I’m a mermaid!!! Ariel is my sister!!! And Triton is my father!!! Weeeeeeeeeeeeh!!!” He announced, breaking up with infinite laughter, at the end of his testimony. “Paulie, you’re such a fag!” I answered, laughing with him. “And my vagina hurts from reading your tarot! I feel like I’ve been raped by an army of Arabian men!” he spoke twittering. Then

73 MARLENE AGUILAR he started singing some made up gay song out loud, making me giggle out of control. Meanwhile, Caesar is in the Philippines, as the US Army prepares this place for battle against China. These two great forces decided to use the conflict between the Philippines and China, regarding claims of ownership of Scarborough Islands, to stage their war. I got this article from the NY Times’ site on the Internet, dated May 12, 2012, with the heading, US- Philippine War Games Start Amid China Standoff. The write-up stated: “The exercises are taking place as a maritime standoff between China and the Philippines continues in the Scarborough Shoal, a disputed string of rock outcroppings 124 nautical miles west of Luzon Island in the northern Philippines. Philippine officials stressed repeatedly that the military exercises, in the southwestern island province of Palawan and around Luzon, were not linked to the Scarborough Shoal standoff and not meant to provoke China. “The military exercises were planned”way, way ahead” of the current situation in the Scarborough Shoal, President Benigno S. Aquino III said Monday.” I wonder if this incompetent leader of the Philippines realizes that the impending war between US and China was also”planned way, way ahead” of time. In order to rule any nation with proficiency, a leader must understand the power of multi-national corporations that drives the world. I don’t believe this weak president could begin to fathom the economic cartel that dictates the agenda of war, and the future of mankind. Are China and the US real enemies? I don’t believe so. They are major players in the game,”within games, within games, within games,” masterminded by the ONE government that rules all governments.

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Jsin recently told me,” I don’t remember exactly, but the US put up surveillance in China that they both use.” Apparently, he acquired this information from a book he recently read about the NSA, entitled Body of Secrets by James Bamford. Remember the essay I wrote in Warriors of Heaven, The Nazi Germans and Corporate Camouflage, stating that business magnates from Wall Street funded Hitler’s campaign, therefore funding WWII? If these American businessmen sponsored Hitler, then who bombed Pearl Harbor? They did. I believe those ruling the world, in short the Illuminati, executed WWI. Afterward, they planned the next global battle. The six companies that profited from WWI bought hundreds of businesses worldwide, using them as headquarters for their surveillance. They spied on the world through their multi-national corporations. Approximately, twenty-seven years later, they launched WWII, killing an estimated 62 to 78 million people worldwide. To refresh your memory, I am including some narrative from the essay, The Nazi Germans and Corporate Camouflage below.

“The companies that formed IG Farben were already in the business of war since World War I, profiting from the global disaster and the death and suffering of mankind. These companies, which formed the”Farben Cartel” were - Badische Anilin, Agfa, Hoechst, Bayer, Weiler-ter-Meer, and Griesheim-Elektro. These companies joined to become Internationale Gesellschaft Farben Industrie A.G.— or IG Farben for short. “IG Farben was Hitler and Hitler was IG Farben,” was the statement of Senator Homer T. Bone when addressing the Senate Committee on Military affairs on June 4, 1943. In the late 1920s, the American holdings of IG Farben; that is

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the Bayer Company, Agfa Ansco, Winthrop Chemical Company and General Aniline Works, were merged into a Swiss holding company, IG Chemic which was managed and controlled by IG Farben in Germany. Later, these firms merged to become the American IG Chemical Corporation. By 1939, some ten years after the American IG was conceived, IG Farben had doubled in size and had the direct management control, if not full ownership, of over 375 German companies along with over 500 foreign businesses. These foreign companies became Farben’s intelligence network for gathering information worldwide.”

Here, I found this article from the Internet. When you read this, you must remember that both US and China are both the mignons of the same puppet masters. This information came from the domain http://www.revlu.com/China.html with the heading:

“CHINA the ENEMY! ACT of WAR CHINA WAR plan against USA Chinese Defense Minister Gives Speech About WAR plans against the United States, says China can only wait five+ years before being forced to attack to gain”living space.” Hal Turner August 12, 2005 halturnershow - Link dead 2008 Chi Haotian, China’s Minister of Defense gave the following speech in a SECURE BRIEFING to his military leadership. In it, he spoke openly about China’s need for more living space and stated bluntly that The United States, Canada and Australia were the only places large enough to accommodate future Chinese needs. He notes the need for a quick effective biological attack upon

76 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the U.S. to depopulate it as a prelude to conquest, and plainly states that China is working on genetic bio-weapons to kill everyone except yellow people. China is willing to shoot and kill women, children and prisoners of war. He admits deliberate deception of the U.S., with China portraying itself as a peaceful business partner, while actually planning to kill 200 million Americans.” An US government official warned me in January that the war between these two powerful nations was supposed to commence between April and July this year. He was told to give me such information, apparently.

May 22, 2012, here below are text messages between Caesar and me. His is in Italics. “War between US and China is postponed, until the Brotherhood appeases the one and only Messiah.” “You?” “I’m telling you, they can’t start the war unless the global stage is ready. I did a lot of research last night. The conflict in Scarborough is not enough to start WW3. The world will not buy it.” “I agree.” “WWIII will not begin this year.” Anyway, I mentioned before that my job in Caesar’s life is to guide him toward enlightenment. I am his spiritual mentor in this journey. Since I met him in Bulan in 2007, he and I have developed a wonderful friendship, built on trust. Over the years, my love, admiration and respect for this exceptional American soldier grew. Since his arrival in the country this year, we have met each other several times. I wonder if he knows people stare at him because of his physique. He has the compelling figure of Dwayne ‘The

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Rock’ Johnson. I would like to remind you that I had given him the documents the CIA gave me to read, including the US war plan. Furthermore, Caesar and I discussed the possibility of us working together in some distant future. There have been times we discussed sex. Truthfully, I really don’t believe there are sexual vibes between us. I have a close friend that I have known since the mid 80s. We were instant friends from day one, kindred souls that we are. His name is Dr. Jun Javier, a top-rate orthodontist whose clientele includes the rich and famous in the country. He meditates daily and is one with the cosmic universe. In addition, he is a vegetarian, a great dancer, and worked as a choreographer for a TV show in the past. To this day, he continues the art of Olympic ballroom dancing, including yoga, which makes him physically fit. In the 80s, he spent his weekends on the ocean. On Fridays, he would fetch five-year-old Jsin from home after school, so the two of them could spend the entire weekend on the beach. Jun was crazy about windsurfing then, which is why he spent so much time on the coast. One year, he became the Philippine champion in this water sport. Over and above meditating, practicing yoga, Olympic ballroom dancing, windsurfing, Jun did motorcycle racing and bungee jumping. Recently, he started the art of aerial silks. This is a type of acrobatic dance while the person hangs from a suspended fabric, hanging from the ceiling. Jun wraps the cloth around his body, while gripping it with his arms or legs and uses the fabric to swing, spiral and fall in different positions. At times, the practitioner of this artistic discipline looks like he is flying in the air, relying only on his skill and strength to warrant security. The site of it is absolute fantasy. I believe in this manner, Jun and I share something very

78 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS peculiar. We are both addicted to danger. There is one thing that sets me apart from this friend of mine. He has been seeking enlightenment for as long as I can remember. However, unlike me, he needs to reach out to achieve it. So he joined an allegiance of souls called Brama Kumaris, where he sought spiritual growth. In that institution, they have a teacher who mentors a group of students to find enlightenment. In my case, my spiritual journey is one unknown after another unknown. It goes beyond space and time. It confronts endless probable realities. It is an endless journey that I choose to travel alone. Honestly, Jun is one of the nicest men I know. There is absolutely no malice in his bone. In all the years I have known him, I have never seen him do anything wrong to anyone. On top of that, he has been there for me every time I have called for help. To me, he is an angel of lightness on earth. I don’t know what it is about people who belong to the spirit world like Becca and Paulie. They don’t walk around the planet with emotional baggage like most people who are unhappy. These people have decided to be joyful despite the pain of life. Because of this, they are great fun to be with. Jun is also like that. He has the innocence of a child, which allows him to appreciate life as a young person. To be in his company is absolutely refreshing. According to him, he’s had quarrels with all his friends both male and female, except for me. It’s true. We’ve never had any disagreement in all the years we have known each other. By the way, Jun has sex stories you wouldn’t believe. More than that, to the best of my knowledge, Jun has had sex with all his closest female friends; I think I am probably the only exception to this arrangement. He visited me one late afternoon last week. He was on his way to

79 MARLENE AGUILAR attend a party in one of the houses in my village and to accompany his friend, Dita Sandico Ong, a famous fashion designer who makes clothing using exotic fabric made of banana plant. Apparently, Jun arrived too early for the party, so he came to the house to see if I were home. I had just finished my massage when my secretary Mary Jean announced that”Dr. Javier” was in my receiving room. How happy I was to see him, knowing that his presence offered me an amusing break from my reality. Within a few minutes, we found ourselves sitting in my garden by the pool drinking Chardonnay, while we munched on tortilla chips, served with salsa made of finely diced fresh tomatoes, with a bit of white onions, and chili peppers. We sat facing each other drinking our wine surrounded by lush tropical greenery. He told me that one of his best friends, who is also a very good friend of mine, had sex with him, recently. Oh, how I love to listen to sex stories. “’I woke up one morning and she was on top of me,” he uttered with a boyish voice, looking up at the sky, avoiding my stare. I held my breath, awaiting his every word. “We shouldn’t do it, I told her, because we are friends. But what can I do? It felt so good. I wasn’t going to stop her,” he added raising his hands, and smiling like a little boy. “Isn’t she living with someone at the moment?” I asked. “Who?” he asked startled. “Oh my god! You don’t know?” I answered, giggling. “No!” he answered, still surprised. “She’s living with the husband of a friend of yours,” I continued giggling some more. “Oh no!” he replied. Jun and I used to go out night clubbing with a group of friends seven days a week back in the day. We would go out at night and

80 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS would only come home the following morning, when we could see the sun rising on the horizon. Come to think of it, I only have two kinds of friends, artists and criminals. However, the criminals I talk about are not your average kind of hoodlums. Their crimes were against the institution. Anyway, as far as I am concerned, Jun is an artist at heart. So, he surrounds himself with people who love to enjoy life as he does. Anyway, the friends who encircled Jun and myself in those days, and even today are spirit-free. They express themselves with more independence than most. Here’s a sex story about Jun. In the mid 80s, we had a very precious friend who was born in Europe. I can’t tell you his name because he comes from a famous clan in the Philippines. He is half British, half Filipino. His family decided to live in Manila for a year, because of some inheritance his father had to manage. He had a younger sister Zoe, who was in her late teens and was still a virgin at the time. She had a terrible crush on Jun. Apparently, the sister tells her brother that she was in love with Jun, and that she had chosen him to do the honor of being the first man to have sex with her. Therefore, it was arranged. And so that was that. Jun granted her request. After that affair, in the eye of those around them, Jun and Zoe acted as if nothing had happened between them. Here’s another tale. One year, Jun invited me to his birthday party, which was held at the Penthouse of his father’s building in Quezon City. Believe me, as free as I am in mind and spirit, in some ways I am so traditional. I don’t like being besieged by a group of people, and I certainly do not like being present when people get drunk out of their minds. Maybe it is because I have the ability to astral project. I don’t need

81 MARLENE AGUILAR excessive alcohol to enter other levels of reality. That comes to me naturally. So, whenever there is a celebration such as this, I watch the individuals around me as they have fun together, talking and laughing and drinking the night away. There is that certain gauge I give everyone, a limit when I think they have had enough to drink, which means that soon they will behave in a manner that would have been terribly amusing to me when I was still in college in the US. However, because of my wild past, I have had more than enough of that kind of circus. Needless to say, that would be the perfect time for me to exit. I have never loved a man I wasn’t entwined with spiritually. In addition, I keep one lover at a time. I prefer it that way. However, I have friends who are into sex orgies. There’s a group of them who enjoy this kind of physical sexual engagement, on top of other sexual exploits they engage in. Moreover, most of these people are members of affluent families in the country. The following day, after Jun’s birthday, he called me at home. Here was our conversation. His narrative is in Italics. “The guard saw someone having sex in the elevator last night. Do you know anything about it?” “No.” “Tell me it wasn’t you.” “Me? Are you crazy? There was no man in your party whose dick I’d touch, never mind have sex with in the elevator!” “Then who was it?” “Why the hell would you even think it was me? I saw the girls in your party. There were only a couple that would do that kind of shit. But I bet it’s Liza! I saw her flirting with a young man who looked like he was only 18. Go talk to the guard and tell him to describe the girl to you.”

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Liza and I couldn’t be more different in appearance. She dresses conservatively and wants to show the world that Catholic nuns raised her. In addition, she has very fair complexion. Hell would first freeze before you catch me in that kind of garb, plus my skin is bronze. Later, Jun confirmed my suspicion. Liza has an older sister named Florence, who always makes me laugh. Unlike the former, like me the latter is outspoken and open. Florence is like a great stand-up comedian when she gets going. She’d crack me up until I couldn’t breath from laughing. Both girls are two of Jun’s closest friends. Many years ago, we all sat around a table drinking cocktails. I told them that one evening, after dinner, Steve and I drank wine with a German chef named Andreas at the bar of this fabulous French restaurant in Global City. During this period in my life, this was something my partner and I did on weekends. All the same, on this particular night, I asked the chef to tell Steve and me the most exciting sexual proposal he ever got from the opposite sex. So, he told the story of how one night, this lady sat at the bar enjoying one glass of wine after another, talking to him. They sat side-by- side drinking and talking for some time. Later, she asked him ‘if he wanted sex with her.’ He said, ‘yes, of course’. Then she told him, ‘I’d do anything for you sexually, under one condition.” The chef added that he had never heard a woman say those things to him before. As I spoke, my friends stared at me speechless. The woman continued to speak and told the German,”He would have to wear a woman’s fishnet stockings.” Andreas conveyed that he didn’t agree to the lady’s request, but now that time had passed, he’s had plenty of time to think about it, and now he wished he had succumbed to her request. Then I told the chef,”I knew exactly who that woman was, and we could make

83 MARLENE AGUILAR a bet on it if he wished.” At first, he thought I was joking. Then I told him her name was Florence and described her to him. He confirmed that Florence was indeed the name of the lady who proposed to him and that the description I gave fit her like a glove. Instantly, Florence started shrieking out of control laughing her ass off, her head bouncing back and forth, while holding her glass of red wine with her right hand in the air. Finally, she realized I was talking about her. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaahaa!” she hollered.”Oh yeah! That was me! That was me! You should have seen the look on his face when I told him to wear fishnet stockings!” she continued screaming and laughing at the same time.”But the pussy was toooooo scared! He would have enjoyed it!” Jun was laughing just as hard with Florence and me. Meanwhile, Liza who was dressed prim and proper sat stoic in her chair. She stared at us with judging eyes, and remained removed. “Florence, next time you have sex with a man in fishnet stockings, let me hide behind the curtain. I’d like to watch,” I said, giggling non-stop. “Florence, I can’t believe you’d do such a thing,” Liza said with a firm voice, shaking her head with disdain.”That’s sooo wrong,” she added. “Fuck you, Liza! You’re such a phony!” Florence yelled at her sister. “You could fool the rest of the world, but we’re sisters remember? For the record, you’ve sucked the dick of every foreigner in Metro Manila! The only chance of me finding a decent looking expat you haven’t fucked is if I went to the arrival area of the international airport! Going back to Jun. Once, we had to undress naked in some small

84 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS cubicle because we had to hurriedly change clothes for some fashion show we were involved in many years ago. That distinct moment was amazing to me. It was then I realized there was absolutely no sexual friction between us. Because of that, I loved Jun more. I felt safe with him. I feel that way about Caesar. Physically fit as he is, gorgeous as he is and handsome as he is, there is no sexual connection between us at all. Here below is my conversation via text messaging with the son of Ra regarding sex. Later, I sent him our communication via email to give him a better perspective. His narrative is in Italics. “I just want to clarify some things. I am posting here text messages between us last night, so we may understand one another better. I find it amazing how close we are, yet there is no sexual chemistry between us. It’s rare for a man not to want my sex.” “Ha ha! I never said I didn’t want your sex.” “Bollocks! You lie, fat man!” “You never heard those words come out of my mouth.” “Yes, I did.” “You might want to get your hearing checked.” “Ha ha! You forgot at Cafe Carusso, you told me sex between us is not important to you.” “Ok. Where in that sentence does it say I don’t want your sex?” “’Sex is not important to you. What the fuck else is that supposed to mean?” “You might want to get a dictionary. I can say that food is not important sometimes, but I still want it.” “That’s the TRUTH right there. Unknown to you, that says it all.” “Your truth, not mine.” “And you need some growing to do. You are supposed to have burning desires for the woman you love. That you don’t feel that

85 MARLENE AGUILAR way toward me tells me we could never be lovers.” “You and your interpretation.” “Sex is not important to you. It is to me. In this regard, we couldn’t be further apart. So you must find a sexual partner who feels the same way about it as you do. I love you infinitely without the sex anyway.” “I love sex.” “How do you know? I don’t believe you ever had sex. First, you say,”Sex is not important to you.” Then you say,”You love sex.” You contradicted yourself right there. However, I say both of your claims are valid, both are real. That is your truth. SERIOUSLY - I honestly believe”sex is not important to you” when it involves me. So you must find another partner that you will ‘love’ having sex with. I’m just addressing certain parts of”US” clearly. We must promise each other that we will always be honest with one another. So please read our correspondence above again. Maybe, it will help you see things better. I love you. That doesn’t change. Believe me, it doesn’t hurt me that you don’t find me sexually appetizing - that’s just chemistry between two people, nothing else, nothing to do with the kind of love you feel for me.” “I see what you are saying, but what I was trying to express is that our bond is more important than sex. Realize that for me, sex is still a physical act. You haven’t opened my eyes to all levels yet. So when you read what I text or say, it needs to be through my eyes not yours. That’s your problem.“ “I have no problem at all. How else am I going to show you the world outside of your little box if I don’t challenge your thoughts? Men’s sexual urges diminish with age because the sex they know is physical. Therefore, the act exhausts them in time.

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It took me years to turn my partner around pushing him away from the sexual existence of mortal men. That’s why today he says he was a virgin until he met me.” “My sex drive does not diminish!!!” “Why should it diminish? You never used it.” “Whatever!” “You say that the other aspects of our relationship are more important to you than sex. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Sex is part of the whole grand scheme. It’s not separated from the whole. Sexually, you’re supposed to have burning desires for the woman you love. And such craving should feel like hunger that is impossible to resist and could never be satiated. That’s how it is supposed to be. That you don’t feel that way about me is a clear sign that you should never consider me as a lover. I’m just being honest.“ In a separate email, I sent him this. “Like you said, your sexual needs are physical. I could never offer you that, since I no longer exist in the world of physical sex.”

Here is another story about Caesar. We had a disagreement regarding the word ‘need’. He told me recently,”He doesn’t need me. He wants me.” We had a fight about it. He then told me that he thought that would make me happy. In addition, he stated that ‘Americans’ had changed the meaning of the word. The following morning, I spoke to one of my soul children, a girl who calls herself Cleo on FB. Like Farrah, Jordan, Ian and Aimee, Cleo has read more good books than most people on earth. Anyway, I shared with her what Caesar said, and asked her if it’s true that Americans revised the meaning of need. She flared up on the phone

87 MARLENE AGUILAR saying she had an argument with her Fil-am lover regarding the same word. May 20, 2012, here are email exchanges between Caesar and me. His are in Italics. “From within, we are so entwined, as one. Yet, from without, in many aspects, we couldn’t be further apart. You told me last night,”You don’t need me.” I will always remind you that you said this to me. You do such hurtful things to me sometimes.” “You know, I am amazed how I thought I could pay you the ultimate compliment, and you twist it around. I don’t know why I waste my time. You twist everything I say based on YOUR perception. I will keep my feelings to myself until you are ready to believe them.” “You told me once you wanted me ‘to need you as much as you need me,” then you turn around and tell me ‘you don’t need me’. Now you’re threatening to keep your feelings to yourself. But that is all you do. It’s rare that you express yourself openly. You are so afraid of yourself. You are so afraid of life. What is wrong with you?” “What’s wrong with me? I tried to pay you what I thought was the ultimate compliment. You spat on it and me. Why should I express myself? It seems to be a waste of time.” “I find it horrible that you cannot see the genuine difference between wanting and needing someone. That you would allow the vile existence of a diseased society like that of America as grounds for changing the meaning of the word NEED to describe how you feel for me makes me SICK! I spoke to Cleo, one of my soul children about it. And she told me to tell you this.

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‘She wants to remind you; the rest of the intellectual world hates Americans. They spit on the ground they walk on. They are seen as pigs that are loud and obnoxious. They are regarded as ignorant, un-cultured gluttons who walk around the planet looking like overfed sea-whales!’ It’s unspeakable that these people would fuck with the meaning of a very important word in the dictionary such as NEED, and change its meaning, considering they don’t know the English language to begin with! But that you would take their aborted version of the word and use it for me as an expression of love, absolutely blows my fucking mind. As far as I’m concerned, most Americans don’t know genuine love. Look at your wife! All she wants is material things from you. There is no love there. The majority of American women are like your wife. They want to marry ‘rich men’ so they can stay home and get fat! Love to Americans is defined by a man’s ability to buy his wife the biggest diamond ring, the most expensive house and the most expensive car, along with designer bags, shoes, clothes, jewelry and other material possessions she could possibly acquire! Pathetic! Why are you so emotionally retarded? What the fuck did the army do to you? I love you, and always. But you do hurtful things to me. You don’t know how painful it is for me to watch you every time, containing the best part of you - your passion. You’re right. Keep your feelings to yourself. I will do exactly the same. As far as the two of us are concerned, I get the short end of the stick anyway, and in all levels. Emotional detachment is better for us. It’s easier to work with each other that way. Come to think of it, I realize why for Americans to say,”I want

89 MARLENE AGUILAR you” is better than”I need you.” This because in this society, the word need is associated with money and material things. In the US, when a woman tells a man she needs him; it comes with that substantial burden attached with currency. So, in that social order the words,”I want you” is preferred over the words,”I need you.” However, when I say,”I need a man,” it means I need him to live. I need his love. And I need him to love me completely and without conditions. I need him for everything other than material gain. Again, like I said, from within, our souls are connected. Even so, from without, we couldn’t be more different.” “If you couldn’t sense how I feel about you, shame on you. You shouldn’t let words get in the way. You get so wrapped up in idioms.” “And I truly am your soul mother nurturing a five-year-old child. Was this the worst fight we ever had?” “So far, yes.” “Then you’ll have to invent another way to piss me off some more. By the way, I will kill you when I see you!” “I know.” When I spoke to Steve over Skype, I read him the above dispute with Caesar. His narrative is in Italics. “It’s true. Western society, not just America, has taken the meaning of the word ‘need’ into a material sense,” Steve commented. “Wow,” I replied taking a deep breath.”That’s sad. Material gain has no place in the world of love.” “It is sad. Their lives are sadder for it.” “My god, so it’s not just America?” “Yes, it’s England and Europe too.” “That’s sad. How sad. I remember now, we had the same argument when we first met. You told me not to need you! But that was when we first met. You didn’t know me. I’ve known Caesar

90 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS for five years.” “Remember I was coming out of a relationship with an American wife who tried to take all she could from me financially.” “Like a parasite, like a leech!” “Exactly.” “I dislike that about women. They want to be empowered and yet, when it comes to finances, they’re so dependent on men. They’re like vultures when it comes to divorce settlements. I find it revolting that any man should think I need his love for profit. If I want revenue, I’d put up a business! I had a lover worth 200 hundred million US dollars, declared, which means he had a lot more than that. I wasn’t with him because of his money. Because of my mind, he wanted me to have his child. He has two children from his first wife, but since she’s not very bright, their offspring are mentally inferior. He wanted to father my child believing the offspring would inherit my intellect. In return, I never had to work for the rest of my life. I said no, and that ended our relationship. He’s worth billions now. So what? I broke up with men who then offered to give me money during our separation because they wanted to take care of me. I said no. I find it demeaning for women to rely on men financially. ” “It’s an important reflection of what you understand and what Caesar understands. The word need has a different cultural interpretation to each of you. It’s very different. In the west, need implies material dependency.” “That is terrible.” “I recently watched this TV program where this woman was interviewed.”It was filmed in a limousine where there was this hidden camera with the limousine driver interviewing the woman.

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And she’s complaining about her partner. She said, ‘she loves him, although he doesn’t take her out to a restaurant as often as she would like, and he doesn’t take her out on shopping sprees.” “I guess he still loves me, she said, as if in a dream. But he doesn’t buy me things; at least, not enough things.” “It seems he really wants to have a real relationship with her, but she said, she’s not sure about him. So one day, he told her he wanted to try seeing this other woman. So, she tells the driver, the interviewer that changed everything for her. Although they are still together she doesn’t tell him that she’s been regularly fucking other men. And that she’s just come from meeting this other guy, who is screwing her. She seemed so fucking dumb. She has no idea what she wants out of life, so she’s committed to the material, a quick fuck and a quick spree in the mall.” “That is sickening. How are people ever to find true happiness if that is the path they take? That puts me to tears. Mankind is doomed!” Anyway, the true reason I was upset with Caesar when he told me,”He doesn’t need me. He wants me,” is because in my mind, I believe that when a man tells me he wants me, he’s after sex. I grew up with men chasing me, and all they could see is my face and my body. I have had bad experiences with men wanting to pay for my sex. These creatures are the reason I hate men. Or maybe, it’s because I had such a vicious relationship with my father, part of me hates men anyway. My father, who I called Papang, by the way, saw me as his most beautiful daughter. Because of this, he imprisoned me at home. He wouldn’t let me comb my hair, because the act would add to my already pleasing looks, and he did not want me attracting boys. As a child, when he caught me combing my hair, he would hit me. To

92 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS this day, I normally only comb my hair after I take a shower, which I do three times a day. He kept me so contained; he wouldn’t let me look out the window when he was home. Growing up, I was only allowed to go to school and church. So there I was, a little child, punished, tortured, and jailed because of my looks. If that was not enough, and although Papang over protected me and wouldn’t let me out of his sight, I suffered four rape attempts between the age of nine and 15. Two assailants that tried to molest me were my own relatives, and two were strange men. The first incident occurred when I was nine-years-old. A man who lived near my school tried to seduce me. The second incident happened in my own home, when my first cousin attacked me. After that attack, I cast black voodoo on him. He died in his teens. The next aggressor was another family member, and after that was a man who saved me from a vehicular accident. But that story will have to wait. First, my father oppressed me because, according to him, nature gifted me with looks that are beautiful to behold. Later, men tried to violate me sexually for the same reason. So you see, there is a part of me that hates men for seeing me as a sexual object. And when Caesar said,”I don’t need you. I want you,” I was enraged. The statement reminded me of those predators in my past. I developed an innate ability to survive; because of the vicious battles I fought with my father from the tender age of three. He forced the wild animal within me, out into the open to confront him. That is the beast in me, born to kill. I find it ironic that my vehement connection with Papang helped me escape the first set of predators I encountered, and those that later came into my life. I don’t really think I was born with exceptional looks. However, it is my intense character that empowers my physical appearance, making me stand out from the rest. Without my inner substance, I

93 MARLENE AGUILAR think I would look plain. As far as I am concerned, the best part of a person lies within and not without. Sadly, rarely would a man see me beyond my physical form. Be that as it may, the men in my life, who I have loved with all my heart, are the exception.

May 28, 2012, I sent this message to Caesar via his mobile phone. “Imagine if all I had was my exceptional brain, and I didn’t have my burning passion, along with my artistic talents to go with it. I’d be just like you Mr. Spock!” “Ha ha!” he replied. “And imagine if you found a lover just like you. During fornication, ice cubes would be squirting out of your dick and through her vagina,” I added. “Ha ha!” he replied again.

In the meantime, someone posted on my FB wall news from the Internet about the world-renowned boxer, Manny Pacquiao. By the way, I don’t care for him, because of the horrible stories I heard about him from a long-time friend who is a member of the local media. Apparently, Pacquiao gets very violent with his staff. In addition, as far as I’m concerned, he has the intellect of a Dalmatian. The headline to this article featured in the web affirmed my feelings: “Manny Pacquiao Uses Bible to Rebuke Obama’s Support for Gay Marriage” “LOVE has nothing to do with color, nationality, race, GENDER, color, shape or form. LOVE is the union of two souls, and that has nothing to do with gender. He quotes the bible because he has no

94 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS mind of his own. WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT! I SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE!!!” I commented. One of my supporters, Michael Stewart from Ireland, placed his opinion after mine. He stated: “Manny Pacquiao believes that the bible is God’s own words. Then that god is a mass murdering tyrant, who is a homophobe and bigoted zealot, who despises man and his independence and thought - a pure hypocrite. Worship that? NEVER.”

Lei Elaijh Cleofas wrote: “e kung sha nga pinayagan ng simbahan ikasal kay jinky! akalain nyo yun! pinayagan ikasal ang unggoy sa plastik?!?!?!?! HUWAAAAAAAAT!” In English,”But he was allowed to marry his wife Jinky! Marriage of one monkey and plastic???? What???” Jinky Pacquiao, the wife of Manny is called ‘plastic’ by her detractors in the Philippines. One because she’s had more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson and second because she is phony. By the way, Lei Elaijh Cleofas is one of my soul children.

Finally, here is Jordan’s rebuttal regarding Manny Pacquiao’s statement. This one is my favorite. “How could someone as clueless as a frog about US political issues dare question the moral decisions made by its President? I could certainly bet, in a heartbeat, that this guy wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Democrat and a Republican, let alone spell such words if you point a gun to his asshole. Hallelujah!”

In the meantime, a message from Naja Mitchell arrived two

95 MARLENE AGUILAR days ago. Earlier, I sent her the chapters to Bringer of Death. She wrote: “Reading chapter 1, I’m on page 42. I was cleaning the floor and decided to take a break and read the first chapter. This book is a vortex. It sucked me in. I was transported back in time and saw a small fraction of your life unfold before my eyes. In tears! I came back to reality with a headache! Lol!”

I replied to her with this note: “Your words put me to tears, oh soulful cosmic child of mine.” You and Caesar are the first people to read this book, outside of my family. So, please give me your insights. It matters so much to me. Thank you for being in my life, again.”

May 23, 2012, she sent me this message. “I’m done with the first chapter and here is what I think so far. I think it embodies yin and yang, in every essence of the symbol. I keep seeing it in my head, and I have read it several times. Love and hate, ecstasy and pain, joy and sorrow. There were darkness and light. It was soft as cotton but also hard as steel. It screamed bloody murder in my ear, yet it also whispered lullabies. I’m having three chapters printed and taking them to the beach with me this weekend. I enjoyed every bit of the first chapter. You have bigger balls than most men I know. Scratch that. Make that”all men.” Ha ha!”

Another message from one of my supporters named Kaito Uy Solano, just came in on FB along with a beautiful graphic image he had created. He wrote: “Good morning Miss Marlene, I’ve noticed that some fans of

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yours made you banners for your FB cover photo. So, I would like to offer you this work of mine as a token of my appreciation. You’re a very strong woman endowed with beauty, open mind and lovely soul. In short, you’re one of my inspirations, he he. I hope you so like it, especially the colors. Note that in this artwork, you can see three dragons representing your children Jsin, Colby, and Maya. I hope She Dragon would be pleased with my offering. I hope everyone would understand what you’re fighting for – that you are fighting for our freedom. More power to you Miss Marlene! Godbless!! - Little Dragon Kaito”

This was my reply to this baby dragon: “I don’t know what to say. I’m in tears. I’m currently writing a book. I will include you in it. Thank you so much, with all my love, always and TEARS of joy.”

He wrote me back and said: “Wow! What an honor!! Thanks so much Miss Marlene!! I had to smoke a cigarette before reading your fast reply, because I was so nervous! Ha ha! This made my day Miss Marlene, really! Always take care.”

“Thanks again, hon. You should never be afraid of expressing yourself with freedom. Have faith. You were born gifted with art and soul. Love always.”

During one of my recent conversations with Steve via Skype, I told him that one of my supporters was driving me nuts, demanding so much attention. He wouldn’t leave me alone. It would be okay if I

97 MARLENE AGUILAR were not writing a novel. But when I write, I enter a different world, away from FB, and away from the world of man. I told him that this person, like most people who get close to me, suffocated me. As always, my British partner of 14 years listened to me with the patience of an angel that was sent from the heavens into my life to be my most endearing confidante. When I was done venting out, he spoke: “Never mind if it’s your friends, your soul children, the Turk, the Jew, the Irishman, plus those other men chasing you, including all the Caesars and the Gabriels in this world, and all the others you’ve gotten close to on FB, whatever independence they had before they met you, they lose. You confront their insecurities. And you fill something that is missing in their lives. You fill a void in their existence. That’s why they fear losing their connection with you. They hold on to you, yet at the same time, you need more liberty than most. They develop an intense need for you; you who demand more freedom than anyone they’ll ever know.” I listened to every word my significant other expressed. I find it admirable how well he knows me. It is true. I believe people get intoxicated with me, because I erase their doubts. For them, I am a beacon of freedom. Because of that, no man could ever claim me. I only belong to myself. Steve continued to speak: “In my experience most women want to change men. If a woman married a man who likes to go out on Fridays drinking with his male friends, she’d change that. Or if a man wants to play football with his buddies on a Saturday afternoon, she’d change that. If he likes to watch sports on TV and drink Guinness, she’d change that. That’s what most women do, and some men are so dumb, they want to be changed.”

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“Do I do that? Have I done that to you?” I asked. “No, not at all. You give freedom. And you love unconditionally and completely. You take the good things with the bad things, warts and all!” “You should write lyrics to music,” my brother in-law Abhe told me one day in June last year. “I don’t know how to write songs,” I replied. “Of course you do. If you can write novels, you can write songs.” Abhe is also my guitar player, composer and arranger. We were about to start recording my first CD at the time. It was a compilation of old songs, a few of which my parents sang to me when I was a child. Before we began working on my CD, he said,”Singing on stage is very different. Recording is a whole different story. You’ll see. You’ll grow from this.” So we started to work on my first album in July last year, using a studio, which wasn’t far from the house. Steve came with me the first night I went to this place. This was after our wonderful dinner at the Paparazzi located at the Shangri-La Hotel. We recorded the song Words, by the Bee Gees that evening. I was a bit nervous confronting something I had never done before. I didn’t want to disappoint Abhe and my sound technician, Ruben. Plus, the former told me horror stories of how some of the best singers and musicians in the Philippines would get so nervous inside the recording booth to the point that they couldn’t perform. I thought I was totally screwed since I’m not a professional singer at all. When I arrived, my brother in-law led me to the booth, and gave me my earphones. Then Ruben came in order to adjust the microphone. “I’m going to sit on the floor,” I said.”I’m more comfortable that

99 MARLENE AGUILAR way. Plus I want the lights off,” I told Ruben as he handed the large headphones to me inside the small music room. He granted my requests with a smile, turning the lights off, as he closed the door behind him, giving me a few minutes to myself. When he left I lit three candles before me that I had brought with me from home. I sat before them in a lotus position, after which I took a long deep breath, closed my eyes and meditated, leaving the material world of man, thereby entering a world without space and time. This ritual instantly purifies my entire being. When I opened my eyes, I was totally relaxed, void of fear, and ready to confront the unknown task at hand. We finished recording the song Words that evening. Abhe was very pleased, which was all that mattered to me. Because he is my mentor, as long as he is happy with my musical performance, I am happy as well. All in all, it was a night I will remember for the rest of my life. We continued recording other songs after that evening. It was during this time I began to write music. The first song I wrote is called”In The Name of Freedom,” a song I composed for my son Jsin. What is amazing is that it only took me 15 minutes to write the words, as they had been stored somewhere in my brain waiting for me to express them in the open. Here below are the lyrics to my first song.

In the Name of Freedom Inside me, your life began Your little heart beating with mine Since then, you changed my life Through you, darkness became light

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I held you, an angel in my arms Then came the blasting of the guns The government took you by force You were shot and tortured without remorse

Chorus In the name of freedom, I will walk with you In the name of freedom, I will fight with you In the name of freedom, I will bleed with you In the name of freedom, I will die with you

I was there when you’ve fallen Always with you, my warrior of heaven Death and horror took you and I Men of hell, the NBI will die

You stayed here, to protect me with you arms Then came these men looking like scum The government sold them a lie They didn’t know we’re not afraid to die

In the name of freedom, I will walk with you In the name of freedom, I will fight with you In the name of freedom, I will bleed with you In the name of freedom, I will die with you

She Dragon August 25, 2011 For my son, Jason Ivler

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As soon as Abhe read the words to this song, he began to work on the melody. Not long after, he called me to his home so I could hear the music to this composition. We both sat in his living room, with my sister Tess sitting next to me. He took his guitar and started to sing the song I had written for Jsin. I wept as I listened to him. What magic! What magic it was to hear Jsin’s song come into full life. I shall never forget the pure joy I felt that day. How blessed are people born with the gift of music like my brother in-law. We recorded Jsin’s song, and it is now the single carrier for my first CD bearing the same title, In The Name of Freedom. This song is currently being played in a few AM radio stations. I received a message from Tabloid journalist Charlie Lozo last night saying: “During the show of Swarding at RADIO DWSS, Ivy Batulahar began criticizing the members of the Philippine Movie Press Club threatening,”If Marlene Aguilar doesn’t win an award for her album this year, he will boycott their event!” Both Swarding and Ivy are popular radio personalities in the country. Unfortunately, winning musical awards in the Philippines has much to do with politics. To Ivy Batulahar - I know you will eventually read this book because I will give you a copy once it’s off the press. I want you to know that I think you are just as fierce as me, and I love the way you fight, especially when you’re fighting for me. LOL! Go sister go! To celebrate their 34th year anniversary, the organizers of the prestigious monthly event called Concert at the Park invited me to be their featured artist for a live show which they entitled”She Dragon Sings.” This performance was staged at the biggest open gardens in the country, Rizal Park. My niece Maegan Aguilar, who is an awarded composer and singer was my back-up vocal, while Jc Rey Hipolito and his father Abhe played the guitars.

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From the stage, I noticed that there were hundreds of Muslims to my right. At the center, I saw a group of people representing the National Museum, headed by Nick Legazpi and Ben Matias. After I sang the song”The Rose,” Nick went on stage to give me a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers. To my left, I noticed a group of my baby dragons with videos and cameras, sitting close to my nine-year-old daughter Maya, who was encircled with four of my staff, protecting her. The concert lasted for an hour and a half. I believe the show ended at around 6:30pm when there was still light coming from the sky. I came down from the stage to meet my baby dragons. Maya saw me, and she ran to me quickly clutching my left hand. Then my soul children rushed over to me, to hug me, congratulate me, and have their pictures taken with me. Behind them were the group of people from the National Museum who came to hug me, congratulate me, and also have their photos taken with me. As I was encircled by well-wishers, I saw four of my staff walking away toward the stage. They must have thought I was in good company, because supporters and friends surrounded me. Meanwhile, from a distance, I could see several people from different directions walking toward where I stood. Inside me, I felt the sight of strangers about to encircle me. I grabbed on tight to my daughter’s hand,”Maya, whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand.” Without warning, the skies went dark. It was night. Suddenly, the familiar faces of my supporters vanished. Instead, countless strangers who mobbed me replaced them. Maya remained quiet holding on to my left hand with her right for dear life. This is one thing I absolutely admire about my daughter. Like me, she has the amazing ability to remain calm despite challenging situations. In many ways, I don’t see her as a child. I see her as a well-balanced and confident individual, gifted with a great

103 MARLENE AGUILAR mind and an old soul. Within, I feared that someone might hurt my daughter and me, considering I have so many enemies who would be happy to see me dead. I continue to get death threats to this day, and my allies have been ambushed and kidnapped over the past two years. All these thoughts were rushing quickly through my head. Meanwhile, all sorts of strangers, men and women of all ages besieged my daughter and me, talking to me all at the same time. The whole thing made me dizzy. Above all I feared for the safety of my daughter. I could no longer see clearly before me, to my right and to my left were dark walls of people stitched together, some of them reached out to touch me, while others grabbed me. I could feel people behind us, as well. The mass of people besieging us overwhelmed my little daughter and me, their voices and sweat fusing together, assaulting all our senses. Maya and I were in the midst of chaos. “Maya don’t let go of my hand! Whatever happens, don’t let go!” I warned my daughter, still gripping her tiny hand. People were pushing us both now in all directions. Finally, I looked up and saw my teenage niece Nika on stage, helping her brother with musical instruments they brought to the show. She happened to look in my direction, so I raised my hand, and signaled her to call for help. She ran down the stage at once, and called three male members of my staff to relieve us from the difficult situation we had found ourselves in. Later on that evening, I had a meeting with all my staff. I told them that in future shows, they must remove my daughter from the crowd immediately after my last song and bring her to the back stage where she could be safe. What a frightening experience it was. My fault. Before I continue I would like to add that Sarah Black, a well- known photographer in the Philippines, came to the concert. We met in 2010 when she came to my home to photograph me for

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People Asia Magazine. After that we met a couple of times at home to discuss my inclusion in a book she was working on. We also visited Jsin in jail together. She reminds me of my sons. She’s very bright and open minded. After my performance, she sent me this text message,”I’ve never met someone so spiritual but with equally compelling physicality. Surprising!” According to Charlie, this week, during her daily talk show on TV 5, singer and media magnate Sharon Cuneta announced,”Marlene Aguilar is the Dragon Lady of Asia.” After I wrote”In The Name of Freedom” in August last year, I stopped writing lyrics. I began writing again in December. By April 2012, I had already written the words to over 30 songs, most of which I wrote in no less than 25 minutes. Abhe and I are in the process of creating my second CD entitled, Oh Virgin Man. I love the pop-rock melody to this song. I wrote this piece of music for Caesar, who heard it recently. I played the song to him in my car, while we were on our way to our meeting one evening. The Special Forces commander listened to the tune carefully. Afterward, he smiled and said,”I love the music!” “I don’t know if I like the lyrics so much,” he added laughing. “Then I shall write you another song that would annoy you more,” I replied, breaking into laughter, as well. Here are the words to Oh Virgin Man.

Oh Virgin Man Oooh, virgin man Oooh, virgin man Oooh, virgin man Oooh, virgin man

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Oh Virgin man what can we do The US Army corrupted you Your mind is locked inside the box Serving the purpose of the ranks

Oh pretty man the killing machine But did they teach you how to sing You talk to me you’re like a wall The world you know is goin’ to fall

You hide your tears so perfectly And then they pour so rapidly, Oooh, stand by me So brave you are, just like the sun You know to me, you’re half; you’re half a man

CHORUS Oooh, virgin man! I want you so Oooh virgin man! I love you so Oooh virgin man! I need you so Oooh virgin man! I won’t let go

So come to me I’ll set you free I’ll give you love so tenderly Oooh, you’re a god to me Show me your evil, show me your good I’ll set you free from your virgin-hood

CHORUS Oooh, virgin man! I want you so

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Oooh virgin man! I love you so Oooh virgin man! I need you so Oooh virgin man! I won’t let go

She Dragon December 25, 11 Revised April 3, 12

Aimee made the video of this piece of music and posted it on You Tube. Recently, I sent the link to this song to Miss California. She wrote back and stated: “You forgot to put Obama and Bush in there. But the lyrics are definitely you, and regrettably true. By the way, I do know what you mean when you call them Virgin Men, LOL.”

I replied to her at once and said: “Hey! I have no love for Obama. However, I do love these virgin men. LOL!”

Diane and I went out yesterday. She arrived at the house at around four in the afternoon, while I was getting stretched after sparring with my mix martial arts trainer, Tata Galindez, at Elorde gym along Katipunan Avenue in Quezon City. By the time I got home, I found her in the kitchen talking to my secretary Mary Jean. I kissed her on the cheek, so happy to see her. “Give me a few minutes, hon. I will shower and dress,” I told her. Unlike most women, it doesn’t take me long to get ready at all. Steve actually takes longer to get dressed than me. After 15 minutes, I was good to go. I stepped out into the living room calling for Diane. I found her watching a kiddie movie in

107 MARLENE AGUILAR the Indian room with Maya. While I stood at the doorway, Diane looked at me startled, and said,”Wow! That was quick!” We headed toward the bay along Roxas Boulevard to go to the old Philippine Plaza Hotel, which is now called Sofitel, situated right on the waterfront. They have a bar next to the swimming pool, facing the Pacific Ocean, where you can see the most glorious sunsets. Fortunately, when we got there, the place was not crowded. From a distance, I spotted the best place to sit, away from the other patrons. So, as I walked approaching a beverage attendant wearing some powder blue uniform, smiling a big smile at me. I touched her left hand gently with my right, and said,”We’re going over there close to the water. We want two glasses of chardonnay. Thanks.” We found a private sitting area in front of palm trees with an unobstructed view of the water and the sky. There were two large chairs next to each other that looked like a huge onion cut in half, woven with some dark grey unnatural material. These two pieces of furniture were elevated only four inches above the Bermuda grass covered ground. So Diane and I took our shoes off, took our seats and sat down. She sat with her legs folded together, her knees pointing to the water. I sat in a lotus position. Our conversation below follows. Her statements are in Italics. “Wow! Tita, this feels like we’re no longer in the city.” “Yes, we have left that reality. Thank god! I’ve been coming here to watch the sunset since I was 17 years old.” “I’ve been telling my friends about all the places you take me. They’re so jealous of me. None of their boyfriend’s moms would do the things you do for me. You take me to the best places. What you do for me are things lovers do for each other.” “I’m just in love with life, that’s all. One must always be in love with life despite all the bullshit that comes with it. And one must

108 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS have the ability to escape the reality we just left behind.” We sat there enchanted by the magnificent view of the Pacific Ocean, adorned with several ships parked in the distance. The sky kissed the waves as they glided softly before us, making small ripples that bounced off the huge rocks permanently bolstered on the shore. Unfortunately, the skies were dark covered by heavy clouds, threatening to pour rain down upon the thirsty earth. Then the cheerful waitress appeared coming from behind us, with the two glasses of chardonnay we ordered. She stood facing us with her hair tied back to a ponytail, smiling, while she handed us our drinks. “Thank you!” I said. “You’re welcome, Ma’am. Is the young woman Ivler’s sister?” “No,” I answered.”She is Jason’s love.” After the hotel staff left, Diane and I grabbed our wine glasses and made a toast. “Tita, thank you so much for doing all these special things for me. You give me so much.” “This is our time together now. And I believe there is a good reason why this is happening. The present will connect you to your future. When Tito Steve comes back from the Caribbean, we won’t be able to go out like this anymore.” I embrace very few people into my life. But when I do, I share myself with them openly. So Diane and I are able to talk with freedom, without having to suppress our thoughts. What a gift. I sat there looking ahead watching the heavens, as I listened to her tell me about a friend of hers who is thinking of celebrating her birthday party at the Sofitel. Diane told her about the breathtaking setting here. Then, out there in the farthest distance and to my right, I noticed that the massive dark clouds close to the water were gently breaking. And without warning, a spark of brilliant red-orange light

109 MARLENE AGUILAR broke through the parting clouds shimmering from heaven, giving light to the gloomy sky. I stared at the magical light fascinated. I held my breath as it gradually grew bigger and bigger right before my very eyes. “Diane! Look! The sun!” Instantly, she turned her face to the right and saw the foreboding sunset.”Wow!” she said.”I thought we were going to miss it.” “Look, it’s getting bigger.” Gently, the bloody red color of the sun began to take command over the orange tones. Now it was out in full force, round as round could get, blazing with the shades of fire. Strangely, there was a yellow-orange line that cut across the big ball of fire, two-thirds down from the top. “I’ve never seen a sunset like this. It’s so red.” “Do you notice that line, cutting across it. Look! I have never seen anything like this. I didn’t realize that the most beautiful sunset is borne out of the darkest clouds.” “Yes, I never saw the sun like that either. It’s so red. Tita, I think red is your color.” “How do you know that? Red is my favorite color. That amazes me that you know that.” “Because I’ve seen you in red and of all the colors, it suits you the best. And red is you, intense, sexy….” “And raging!” I added giggling. Diane and I sat there quietly for a moment, enchanted by the magic that surrounded us, absorbing it all, while sipping our wine. Then out of the blue, she asked,”Tita, is Gabriel Robert Gates?” “No! Why do you say that?” “Because I just finished reading Chapter Two of Black Widow. And I was wondering if R.G. was Gabriel.”

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“No. Robert Gates is not Gabriel. R.G. is my crush though,” I stated with laughter. “I’ve been trying to guess in my head who Gabriel is. I’ve even checked the web. I’m dying to know who he is. Why do you like him so much?” “Because I hate the dwarf!” I answered laughing. “Really, Tita why does he affect you so?” “Because, he’s the only man who ever got so close to understanding Mariana, my sexual persona.” “Why? What did he do?” “Well, it starts with your head. The brain is the biggest sex organ. It has to start there. You know that a person’s blackness; a person’s rage equals his sexuality. The evil in you powers your sex, so the darker a person, the stronger his sexuality. Gabriel is like that. He’s the most homicidal man I’ve ever met. We played sex games over the phone, like you wouldn’t believe. It is beyond the understanding of most people. It’s just a whole different world that kind of sex, you see, totally alien from the world of men. Gabriel would call me, and we would have sex on the phone. But it isn’t what you think at all. What we did was not the way people have phone sex - not at all. Our engagement came with a vicious black spell that forced us into the blue, into the unknown. I don’t really know how to explain it. It really had to do with the fusion of our spiritual selves. And this fusion, this union, turned us into creatures completely under the control of the powers of darkness. It’s as if the devil herself sanctioned the sexual union between Gabriel and I. Plus, I believe it was all part of a test, my test.“ As I recalled my engagement with the devil on earth, I noticed that Diane had moved closer to me. She propped her chin on the arm

111 MARLENE AGUILAR of her chair to my left, staring up at me, looking like a fascinated kitten absorbing every single word her soul mother uttered. This moment in time felt like a new and separate domain for both of us. She and I left the material world behind at that moment. There before us eavesdropping was Ra, my sun god Ra, and majestic as always, beaming from the heavens, shining his glow upon us both. I continued to speak. “What Gabriel and I shared over the phone most people couldn’t even begin to imagine. Together we embraced one unknown after another unknown. It is unspeakable some of the things we said to each other. And I am not able to write about them to this very day. Honestly, I don’t know if I could ever write about them.” “What was it like Tita?” “I can’t explain it really, not in words, not yet. I’m still absorbing all of it. All I know is that only people who have gone to the dark side and survived could have that kind of erotic freedom. The sex we shared doesn’t exist in the world of men. Read my erotic essays, and imagine something beyond that. That’s the mental and spiritual sex I had with the devil on earth.” “Tita, may I ask you a question,” Diane interrupted me gently.”The best sex you ever had,” she continued with a bit of hesitation.”Which of your lovers gave you the best sex you ever had?” “What? The best sex I had?” I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop laughing some more. “You know the sun, the moon, the earth and all the billions of stars out there are alive like you and me. They have consciousness like ours. So, we can communicate with them mentally, and spiritually. Are you aware of that? On top of that, I believe through the endless process of reincarnation, we have experienced consciousness from the smallest

112 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS particle of life on earth to our human form today. That’s why I’m not a vegetarian. As far as I’m concerned, all life has spirits and consciousness, including plants and animals. Vegetarians don’t eat meat because they feel guilty killing animals for food. But it’s okay for them to kill vegetables when these variations of life have the same consciousness, just in different forms. Whatever we do, we can’t survive this matrix without killing one form of life or another in order to exist. ” “But the sex, Tita. Who among your lovers gave you the best sex?” she asked me again. “It wasn’t a man Diane,” I told her, chuckling some more.”The best sex I had was with Ra! Look out there. Look at him. People wonder why I don’t age, why I stay youthful and full of energy. It’s because of the sun. The energy of the sun is infinitely youthful and sexual. You read that essay, Sex with Ra, in Warriors of Heaven. That was the first time I had sex with him. I’ve had several experiences like that with Ra since then.” ‘How do you do that? Oh, I wish I knew how to do that. Have you ever met a man who is sexually your equal, Tita?” “No.” “You know why, Tita? This is what I think,” she explained as she touched her forehead with her right hand. “It’s because of that god. He’s watching you. He’s the one deciding about the men in your life,” she said pointing to the sun.”You said it yourself, Ra is your lover. He will never send you a man your equal in sex. Ra is a jealous god.” “That’s amazing you’d come up with a theory like that,” I answered with a smile.”Seriously, I’m not at all interested in men sexually. I get a lot of sex proposals from men from all ages, but I’m

113 MARLENE AGUILAR really not interested in the sex of mortal men. These people think porn is the answer, when I graduated from that kind of shit a long time ago. That’s kindergarten. If that is all the sex they have to offer – they can keep it for themselves. And if I were to choose a sexual partner, he better be a god on earth!” I declared laughing. “I have another question, Tita. You have so many people inside you. It must be so difficult for any man to understand you. Has any man come close to understanding all your personalities?” “No. But I’d say that no man knows me like Tito Steve. He knows more about me than any other man, except he doesn’t know my dark side. He’s never had to face it. He doesn’t bring out that part of me. I kind of wish, he did. Let me tell you this about Tito Steve. As far as the best sex related to the world of mortal men, I’ve had the best sex with him. And like he says, ‘it’s always better than the last time.’” After the sun bade farewell to the earth, and when darkness reigned, Diane and I left Sofitel and proceeded to the Fireplace, our favorite restaurant at the Hyatt. And there we had US Angus steak broiled medium rare, served with peppercorn sauce, penne pasta and shitake mushrooms with Gorgonzola cheese, plus a petite serving of grilled white onion, red bell pepper and asparagus on the side. On top of this, we shared a nice bottle of Fleur du Cap Cabernet Sauvignon from South Africa, to complement our excellent meal. “Tita, I was thinking of joining Elorde gym, the one near my place.” Diane said. “I think that’s great! You should study Muay Thai. It’s a good way to exercise, and you’d be learning how to defend yourself at the same time.” “But there’s this girl from work, she used to be chubby. Then she

114 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS took Muay Thai. She’s lost weight, yes, but her muscles are now built like that of a man. I don’t like it.” “When you take Muay Thai, you have to do a lot of stretching exercises like Yoga and Pilates. This kind of discipline stretches your limbs making them longer, so you don’t look square.” “Jsin tells me you do so much work-out, Tita.” “I live in the gym. I train six days a week, at least an hour each time; sometimes I work out two hours straight. I have four trainers, one for dance, one for weights, one for Muay Thai, and another for MMA.” “I saw Tito Steve swimming in your pool one day. I was surprised to see how fit he is.” “He exercises six days a week too, and he’s been a fitness fanatic since he was 18 years old. He was the one who inspired me to exercise seriously. Except now I do more exercise than him. I’m so glad he doesn’t have a big gut. I find men with big guts such a turn-off.” “Tita, I have a question,” Diane uttered with a sweet tone in her voice.”Do you think Gabriel,” she paused and hesitated to speak. “I was just wondering Tita…do you think,” Diane paused again, finding it difficult to speak. I just stared at her, waiting, dying to know what was on her mind. Finally, she spoke out,”Do you think Gabriel would be just as good in sex if you were to do it with him physically?” “Despite the fact he has a gut, I’d say yes!” I answered laughing.

Here are email exchanges between Gabriel and me. His narrative is in Italics. I can hear Jsin in my head yelling,”Where are the dates to this email?” Sometime last time last year! There is my answer!

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“Damn are you going all soft on me now...... ” “No darlin’, just tryin’ to get you closer to me, so I can slice your head off with better precision.” “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok now...... Right” “Why the fuck are you being such a good girl to me these days? What are you up to, ape?” “Waiting for you to lower your guard and then fuck you ...... What else????” “If you would agree to the following conditions, I would blow you. We pretend you’re my prisoner. And I turn you into my sex slave. I tie both your wrists with a chain and hang you from the ceiling naked. I lash out at every part of your naked body with my leather whip while ridiculing you, calling you names and making you understand that you’re nothing but a worthless piece of shit! When I get tired of whooping you, I take a break by licking your ass, and biting on your balls. Then, I would blow your dirty cock and play with your sex toy. When your manhood gets red, hard, raging and prime for fucking, I’d suddenly stop. After which, I will make you watch me fuck myself with a dildo. This is just foreplay. What do you think?” “I like it... specially with you licking my ass ...but you need to be careful because the pre cum will be leaking all over your floor as you bite and nibble on my balls. With your luck...your dildo’s battery would be dead by the time you get to it ...hehehe” “Ha ha! I’m going to die from laughing.” Here’s another email I sent the devil on earth. “The Illuminati, the 13 bloodlines that have ruled the world for thousands of years, plan the agenda of the future. Most of the Presidents of the US were linked to these families by blood, including Bush. Basically, they control almost everything - the multi-national

116 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS corporations, the banking, arms and drug cartel, NASA and ESA, many governments, media and even Hollywood. The global crisis was a plan to bring down the economy of first- world countries, bringing new economic power to Asia. Ultimately, the US killing machine and the US government are also controlled by the Illuminati. The magical man I wrote about in Chapter Six of Warriors of Heaven didn’t really work for the Pentagon as I stated in my book. Remember the man who spoke to me for over six hours in 1997 behind closed doors? I believe that like me, he was clairvoyant and psychic. He explained to me things about the history of the Philippines, involving Spain and the US that has never been written. He explained to me the oil cartel, the banking cartel and so on. He also told me about the future of the world. He said he worked for the Illuminati. Why he saw me, I can only guess. When he spoke to me, I felt he could see through my soul. And he looked at me with love and compassion. I believed every word he said. And what he told me has been happening all over the world. Going back to the present, the war between China and the US is nothing but a grand business enterprise between these two countries, part of the plan to cull the population of mankind. And as far as America is concerned, this is what I believe - the US is a great tool for the Illuminati. The NSA is the biggest, most organized spy group in the world whose technology is easily 25 years ahead of what we know. So, as far as technology is concerned, we are in the dark ages compared to Crypto City - the home of the NSA where over 10 thousand mathematicians, scientists, and nerds are employed. Even the priest there has security clearance beyond top security.

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There are a lot of language experts in Crypto City as well. The NSA is so advanced, it has divided one second into a fraction of one million, and then dissected one of that fraction into another million. Imagine that. It has the ability to do 1 septillion missions in cyberspace in ONE SECOND! 1 septillion has 24 zeros - 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. And that’s information available to inquiring minds. Imagine where they are now. Imagine the NSA capability today. I started getting really interested in the NSA because of what happened to ‘Dwayne’ and myself in cyberspace. He had security clearance and worked for the private sector of the US military. They were on to him on the Net so fast I couldn’t believe it. I’m impressed, very impressed with the minds that power the NSA. Yes, you were right when you told me once that there are men working for the US military with the minds of rocket-scientists. They’re not all as dumb as you and your ape brothers ruling DC. What I’m saying is, ultimately the US will be fine. Whatever is going on, is part of the agenda - a script that must be followed by the players. There is so much more to this, but I’m sure I’m giving you more information now than your little ape brain could process. Oh Dwarfy, I wish you were here so you could kiss my sexy ass and tell me how smart I am. Before I go, I’d like to send a message to the nerds from Crypto City reading all our email exchanges in cyberspace: Didn’t you enjoy the sex narrative I wrote for the Lebanese early this week, using a fake yahoo account? Why did you cut us off? It’s ok, really; the idiot couldn’t catch up with me, unlike someone I used to know. But did you really cut us off, or did you leave the desk to jerk off? Oh I’m sorry, that was wrong of me. I just realized you guys don’t know how to use your dicks!

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Bye Dwarfy!” Actually, the information on the NSA above was knowledge Jsin gave me. I would like to present to you my favorite love song, my favorite of all those I have written. Abhe also prefers this one above all my other compositions. This will be included in my next album. It is called,”When I Think of Love.”

When I Think of Love When I saw your eyes I went into trance Your soul and mine Embraced in a glance

When I think of love I think of you When my heart beats It talks to you

I gave you my heart For you to hold Then you crushed it A thousand fold

CHORUS You are my joy, my pain, my everything You are my love, my hate, my everything You are my life, my death, my everything Without you here with me, there’s nothing

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I gave you a dagger To seal my fate Didn’t know your love Came with hate

When I think of love I think of you When my heart bleeds It cries for you

You never loved like this You said to me I was the unknown So you ran from me

CHORUS You are my joy, my pain, my everything You are my love, my hate, my everything You are my life, my death, my everything Without you here with me, there’s nothing

When I think of love I think of you When my heart stopped It died for you

She Dragon December 23, 11

Below is an erotic story, I wrote in 2010. This was the one I

120 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS discussed with Steve in Bringer of Death. He said,”You’re playing on three different planes in the essay called Wolves, the real physical level in the here-and-now, the level with Ra and the wolves as well as the transformation of your personalities.” “It’s true. It’s real to me. Where the mind goes, the body follows. All mental acts are valid,” I replied. “And I have experienced being a wolf with you, and Athena. I have experienced different worlds with you, wolves mating in the wild. I have seen a white lotus in a muddy swamp deep in the forest like a brilliant white vulva, arising from death,” Steve stated. As promised, here is the story entitled Wolves.

Wolves I walked into his bedroom late at night, passing through a large, ancient wooden door. I found him lying alone in bed, this lover of mine. Two layers of the finest Egyptian cotton sheets covered him. He was naked. I slipped under the red covers and lay next to him, wearing my nightgown. I lay to his right, silent, feeling the cool air, looking up above. I closed my eyes for one moment. When I opened them, gray smoke had filled the room, a divine gift from my eternal consort, the goddess of the woods. I took a very deep breath, inhaled the air and the aroma filled my heart with a spell. The magic engorged every inch of my flesh, awakening my animal desires, imploring me to remove my clothing and bare my bronze skin. The man lying next to me, unaware of the sorcery, fell under the same incantation. I felt hunger, a hunger coming from deep in the desert. A hunger I couldn’t explain, hunger for the sun god Ra, my illicit lover. Oh, my beloved Ra, my immortal Ra.

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“Father Ra, Father Ra,” I beckoned him in silence.”Send me the wolves from thy domain. I wish to play. Father Ra, Father Ra, hear thy daughter’s plea, I love thou here and beyond, forever times eternity,” I chanted again in silence. As I spoke to Ra, I began to search for my lover’s sex instrument lying dormant between his legs. I started to fondle him with my left hand, stroking him gently up and down. He laid in bed still, eyes closed, his body anticipating my every move. His male gland awakened at once, and grew more alert with every stroke coming from my warm fingers. Then, slowly I went down on him. I could smell his manliness now so close to my face. I love the scent of man. I held his joystick with my right hand, holding his shaft tight from below. I placed the tip of his penis between my warm, wet and swollen lips. I began to caress the tip of his manhood while stroking the lower portion of his dick at the same time. He grew bigger and bigger in my mouth, his sex toy throbbing with delight. Later, he gently pushed my face away from his male gland and implored me to lie on the bed. After which, he came down on me pushing my legs wide apart under the soft cotton sheets, exposing my lotus. Suddenly, I felt his face dominate my female organ. He held my thighs down with both hands. He started to lick me with utter contempt, hungry for velvet and creamy flesh. While the man devoured me, I felt hot juices flowing out of my love box. “Oh god,” I gasped, panting, grabbing the sheets tight with both of my hands.”Suck on my clit,” I whispered to my lover. And he did. He did, and he did endlessly for what seemed to be an eternity.”Oh god,” I cried out loud.”Oh god!” Still he went on and on and on, diving for more pleasure, diving into my deep-blue sea. Instantly, I felt the hardness of his tongue going in and out of my Venus.”No! No! No!” I screamed louder and long.

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I shut my eyes now and floated into the unknown, my essence leaving this reality, falling into the domain of my beloved Ra. There he was, suspended in wonderland, gleaming but surrounded by darkness, beautiful beyond compare. My sun god Ra, my eternal love Ra. He is my father and my son, my servant and my king, my yin and my yang, and every space in between. Ra is my perfect everything. The god arrived with a pack of wolves, all of them white as virgin snow and heading toward me. They came to me now, all five of them, eyes blazing red, salivating and ready to attack. My body floated in perpetual blackness right before Ra, totally naked, legs spread wide apart, my Venus aching and dripping with hot juices. My King bit me on my neck while I took a deep breath that lasted through eternity. I held my eyes closed, giving in to him, telling him in my mind how much I missed him.”Dear lord how I miss you,” I told him.”How endlessly I love you,” I whispered to him. Then he kissed me ever so passionately, burning me with desire no mortal being could ever fathom. “Father Ra. Father Ra,” I called out to him in silence, my mind and spirit perfectly attuned to his.”Do with me as you please,” I implored the god. At the same time, the King’s wolves engaged my dripping flesh, feasting on me like the creatures of darkness that they are. The pack of wolves took turns only to come back for more, and more and more. And Ra continued kissing me, consuming every bit of my soul. In the here and now, my body trembled in panic, my face shaking left to right. I was aware of being present in both parallel realities.”Aaaaaggghhhh,” I screamed. My mortal lover continued his business while the wolves lapped on me with sheer defiance. Ra held on to my lips with his, kissing me with all his love.

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“I’m going to cum,” I told my lover.”Take it. Take my juices. Drink it,” I declared. My body arched further into his face, releasing my hot cream into his mouth. I fell back on to the sheets shivering and screaming. Knowing I was done, the wolves suddenly turned away satiated, mouths covered with liquid and drooling from their dirty deed. But they stayed close, watching, glaring at the mortal and me, their eyes intent, flashing with the god’s fire. After my expulsion, Ra carried my body into his arms. Thus, we drifted suspended in the midst of the galaxies, surrounded by the stillness of dreaming stars. My mortal lover came on top of me now, holding his hard penis with his right hand. He injected his throbbing sex instrument into my Venus, now hot and ripe, flooded with my own juices. He began to molest me with his manhood, jabbing me hard. He attacked me non-stop going in and out and in and out, breathing hard.”Oh god! Oh god!” I yelled, grabbing the wooden railing on the bed’s headboard for dear life.”Suck on my tit,” I pleaded. And he did just that claiming my left breast like an innocent little boy, while pounding on me like a vicious animal. I closed my eyes once more, feeling every inch of my lover’s violent sex machine driving inside me like a long sword, plunging into enemy territory. Then, I raised both of my legs up high and started rubbing my own lucid flesh with my right hand, while he continued to ravage me endlessly. Oh god, I was elated beyond words. The room turned into another shade of red, reality splitting once more. I gasped and held my breath for the longest time. Medea inside me awakened, demanding freedom. Medea. My Medea - she who is powered by pure blackness declared she would come out. But she was too late. Mariana, the part of me that lives for sheer sexual pleasure, took a quantum leap to take control. This one doesn’t have much respect for men. To Mariana, men are nothing

124 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS but sex slaves. She’s not subtle this personality of mine. No – never. She loathes the thought of foreplay and ‘making love’. She exists for one reason and one reason alone - to fornicate. “Drive your sword hard inside me baby,” she ordered, smiling, eyes powered by Lucifer’s demons. “You love molesting your daddy’s favorite whore don’t you, baby?” Mariana reminded the man, sneering, legs up in the air while she fondled both her breasts, squeezing both her tits. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop or I’ll tell your Daddy that you get on top of me every time he turns his back.” With these words, the man lost it. He drove his manhood harder and deeper into Mariana’s void, losing all senses now. Still, the she-wolf continued to play with her breasts. In other space, Ra continued to make love to me, his face now buried between my legs, licking me with his immortal tongue forged out of fire. He drove it inside my hole, ravaging me like ten wolves filling me up with pleasure that was beyond the imagination of even the Goddess Aphrodite. Fire consumed Ra and me, fire designed by heaven. “I hear your Daddy’s car coming into the garage, baby. Pound on me, don’t stop. Oh god! Your Daddy’s going to walk into the room, baby! He’s going to see your hard cock driving in and out of my pussy. Hurry! Hurry!” Mariana yelled at my mortal lover in this matrix. “Oh god! He’s walking up the stairs, baby!” the sexual fiend uttered some more.”Oh god! Oh god!” She screamed as he continued pounding on her wilder than wild. The she-wolf violently drove her buttocks around the man’s genitals driving him further out of his mind.”I’m going to cum!” she warned.”I’m going to cum.” She yelled again.”Cum with me! Cum with me now! Now!!!” She insisted. Instantly, the man and Mariana came together, completely entwined in spirit, wild and shaking, gasping and screaming, claiming their

125 MARLENE AGUILAR victory of fire and ice - of death and life. The dark night sky exploded with the brilliance of nova giving light to the galaxies, as the most magnificent display of fireworks. In perfect unison, I came unto the face of Ra. In doing so, the stars rejoiced with my god and me, singing the sweetest song from Nirvana, and I fell into the void of the Goddess Euphoria.

Marlene Aguilar August 30, 2010

Today, May 23, 12, I received this sensual poem from Steve, which I would like to share with you to end this chapter.

Oh Venus What sex fulfills a woman? What fulfills the man? What sex for the inner fulfilled? What sex for the outer sold?

Is there a sex that senses? it is all and any sex.

Full cry to the fulfilled. Full praise for the whore. But how many know satiated? beyond their one God-given lore.

126 Chapter 3

Honor

Almost all my life, men have hunted me. But when they got close to me, they became my prey. Marcus was one of those men. He was filled with life, so giving and loving. He didn’t smoke, he didn’t drink, and he took care of himself. He was so romantic it was explosive. His expression of love came with deep emotions and freedom that you will only find in Latino men. He loved me like a wild child fascinated by the fire that burned inside me. And his passion, his passion was like that of a rabid man. We were cursed from the beginning, he and I. It happened one fateful day. He saw me, and that was that. He never left me alone since that moment, and we weren’t separated since. Over the years and even to this day, he’d say to me,”I still remember the dress you wore the day I first saw you. I loved you ever since.” That was Marcus. I saw him two weeks ago. I sat with Caesar at the corner of an Italian restaurant, hidden from the view of other diners. “Look who’s here,” Caesar said softly. I sat in the corner of a room at Caffé Caruso near a large glass

127 MARLENE AGUILAR window to my left. But next to it was a wall that obscured me from the rest of the other diners in their main hall. So, I moved my body forward and gazed through the window. There, I saw Marcus. The animal was talking with a younger man sporting a beard. I shifted my vision to the right, and I noticed two men at the bar; one looked familiar. “That’s his bodyguard over there in the blue shirt. The other man must be his driver,” I told Caesar. I saw Marcus sitting across from a younger man who appeared to be in his mid 20s. He kept rubbing his eyes with his right hand. Whatever the mercenary told the boy, it made him cry. I realized then that the young man is his son. Instantly, I was thrown into the distant past when Marcus had to run for his life. If I am not mistaken, the boy was only a year-old, then. I will call him Michael. “Can you wire transfer funds to my bank in Hawaii immediately? I need to get my son out of Vietnam. It’s not safe for him there,”he stated on the phone. So, I sent him the money right away. He had made some poor girl pregnant in Vietnam, and she couldn’t fend for the boy. Don’t be surprised that Marcus could be so open with me about these things. He and I were never together for more than two nights at a time for over so many years. We kept an open relationship. A maid in the US raised Michael, away from his mother and his father, who saw him occasionally. I don’t know if he grew up aware of his father’s profession. I bet not. During the last conversation Marcus and I had, I asked him about Michael. The question changed his facial expression, immediately. “He’s not good! He’s always into trouble. And he smokes Marijuana.” “Always into trouble? You killed people for a living! What do you

128 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS expect? He has your bloodline! You can’t expect a mango tree to produce oranges!” I scolded him.”And what’s wrong with smoking Marijuana? Some of the best minds in the world smoke weed! As far as I’m concerned, cigarettes should be banned, not dope. It’s more dangerous than Marijuana!”

May 28, 2012. Here is my email to Caesar discussing my past involving Marcus. “After running for his life, Marcus was taken and tortured by the enemy. After that, he disappeared for a few years. However, before he went down, he made a phone call to me to tell me he could no longer protect me. He warned that I had to run. At this point, I still owned this beautiful property in Sterling, Massachusetts, a beautiful place where the Indians dwelled in the distant past, with rolling hills, surrounded by woods. There were only very few homes built there. You couldn’t see the neighbors from my house. It was heaven. Marcus and I were together for a long time and over the years, he had entrusted me with so much. Needless to say, this was the reason he feared his enemies would hunt me. “You’d make a killing if you sold information to the enemy.” He would say to me,”Thank god you’re on my side. I’d be in a lot of trouble if you served the other camp.” You have to remember, he was my mentor. I looked up to him like my father. I’m writing this in tears now. I’m so overwhelmed. I discussed in Warriors of Heaven how one day he made a phone call to me. He told me he could no longer protect me, and I had to run. I was frightened. How old was I then? I was only in my mid 20s. I knew at the time, there were men from Singapore looking for me in Stamford, Connecticut. It had to do with an Italian man who was murdered in Singapore while Marcus and I were there. He had

129 MARLENE AGUILAR told me we were there to rent a boat that was 100 feet in length. Moreover, he said if we couldn’t rent one, we would buy one. In the process of acquiring this boat, a very important man died. That was life with Marcus. Wherever he traveled, you’d be sure someone would turn up dead, someone important. And that someone could either be an ally or a foe of the US government. The CIA is a master in double-dealings. They played both sides of the fence. The enemy took Marcus not long after he made that phone call to me. I felt besieged. I was scared. Whoever took him hunted me too. If those men found me, they would torture me and kill me. And if they found me in my home, they would kill my children too. That was my world with Marcus. Immediately, I decided to run to the Philippines. But before that, I took the title of my property from my name and transferred it to Barbara’s, my mother in-law. I thought that was best. I tried to think of ways to protect Marcus’ secrets and myself. So, I decided to perform this ritual. I told you once that a great fraction of my memory is missing. That’s because I removed it from my mind. Since you came into my life in 2007, and heavy surveillance on me began, I have tried to go back into time to retrieve that memory. I couldn’t. In my attempt to remember what I chose to forget, I’ve meditated several times traveling back in time. Some information has returned, but it is so minuscule compared to what has been lost. It’s like looking at a huge picture. And it’s all blurry, except for a few parts. After a few years, Marcus came back to the land of the living. I told him about my memory loss. One day, he showed me some photographs of the past. He spread them on the table before us. He asked me if I remembered those moments in my life. I said no. One picture showed me surrounded by several heavily armed men

130 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS in camouflage walking through the forest. Marcus asked,”Do you remember this time?” I shook my head and said, ‘No!’” “Are you sure it was you that erased your memory?” Alwin asked me in 2008 after I told him I couldn’t remember a great portion of my past. After hearing those words, my mind went blank. I turned stoic with eyes wide open, as we sat facing each other in my receiving room. “Are you sure it was you that erased your memory?” I heard Alwin repeating the same question. His voice sounded so distant. My spirit had gone to another plane. Meanwhile, I tried to think and think. “Is it possible someone else erased your memory?” he asked raising his voice, which finally snapped me out of my catatonic state. “Is it possible someone else erased your memory?” Alwin asked again. “Yes. It’s possible,” I replied. I’ve met many interesting characters through Marcus over the years, the rest of them I have chosen to forget, except for one man. I believe he and the beast met each other in the early 90s after Marcus survived his captors.. When Steve would be away overseas for work, it wouldn’t be unusual for me to receive a phone call from Marcus. It became a pattern through the years. My partner expected my mentor’s visit not long after his departure from the Philippines. By the way, my friend Celest calls Marcus the godfather. This is because Marcus reminds Celest of Marlon Brando from the movie of the same title. “I wonder if the godfather would show this time?” Steve asked me, while he packed his suitcase one day, preparing for his trip abroad. “I’m not sure,” I answered.”He only comes when he needs to talk.” One such day, Marcus called me. “Can I see you?” he asked one afternoon.

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“Dinner?” I replied. “Yes. By the way, I’m bringing a friend,” he stated. That was the day I met Dan Mitrione Jr. His father was Dan Mitrione Sr. Both father and son lived very fascinating lives. It took me over a week to decide what to include about father and son in this book. I had earlier written a longer narrative, but I changed my mind. Dan Mitrione Sr. worked for the FBI and then the CIA. In the early 60s, he was sent to Brazil, then to Uruguay in 1969. When he moved to South America, he brought his wife with him along with their nine children, including Dan. According to my research, his job was to train the police from both countries in new torture methods to use against the enemy, which at the time were the communist rebels. He also taught the police assassination techniques. While working in South America Mitrione traveled to several countries. CIA operatives claim that Mitrione Sr. set up his own soundproof torture chamber in the basement of his own home in Uruguay. And there he gave the police lessons on how to agonize the human body using electric shocks. In addition, they say that Mitrione abducted beggars and used them for his experiments, killing them later when he was finished with them. In one article, I read Mitrione discussed his torture methods and is quoted saying: “The precise pain, in the precise place, in the precise amount, for the desired effect.” It has been alleged he used homeless people for training purposes that were executed once they had served their purpose. Manuel Hevia Cosculluela, a double agent from Cuba who worked for the CIA and with Mitrione, stated in public that Mitrione tortured four beggars to death during a training session he gave the

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Uruguayan police. In his book Cosculluela discusses a conversation he had with Mitrione. He quotes him as saying: “Before all else, you must be efficient. You must cause only the damage that is strictly necessary, not a bit more. We must control our tempers in any case. You have to act with the efficiency and cleanliness of a surgeon and with the perfection of an artist. This is a war to the death. Those people are my enemy. This is a hard job, and someone has to do it. It’s necessary. Since it’s my turn, I’m going to do it to perfection. If I were a boxer, I would try to be the world champion. But I’m not. But though I’m not, in this profession, my profession, I’m the best.” In July 1970, the Tupamoros rebels in Uruguay abducted Mitrione. He was interrogated regarding US government affairs in Latin America. Later, he was found dead inside a Buick with two gunshots fired to his head. There was no evidence that he was tortured prior to his death. Upon his death, spokesperson Ron Ziegler from the White House stated,”Mr. Mitrione’s devoted service to the cause of peaceful progress in an orderly world will remain as an example for free men everywhere.” US President Nixon sent William P. Rogers, the Secretary of State, to attend Mitrione’s funeral. His son in-law David Eisenhower also came to the interment. I find it interesting that both Marcus and Mitrione Sr. were born in Italy. I also find it fascinating that while Marcus fought communism in Southeast Asia, Mitrione did the same in South America. Some people believe that Mitrione was connected to the Jonestown massacre that occurred in Guyana in 1978. There was a movie made about it, which I watched while living in Massachusetts.

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Here is what Wikipedia says about Jim Jones: “Reverend James Warren”Jim’” Jones (May 13, 1931 – November 18, 1978) was the founder and leader of the People’s Temple, which is best known for the November 18, 1978 mass suicide of 909 Temple members in Jonestown, Guyana along with the killings of five other people at a nearby airstrip. Over 200 children were murdered at Jonestown, almost all of whom were forcibly made to ingest cyanide by the elite Temple members. Jones was born in Indiana and started the Temple in that state in the 1950s. Jones and the Temple later moved to California, and both gained notoriety with the move of the Temple’s headquarters in San Francisco in the mid-1970s. The incident in Guyana ranks among the largest mass suicides in history, though most likely it involved forced suicide and/or murder, and was the single greatest loss of American civilian life in a non-natural disaster until the events of September 11, 2001. Among the dead was Leo Ryan, who remains the only Congressman assassinated in the line of duty as a Congressman in the history of the United States.” On Jim Jones, I found this article from http://www.jimhougan. com/JimJones.html, which states: “What follows is a work in progress about Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple. In so far as it has a central thesis, it is that Jones initiated the 1978 massacre at Jonestown, Guyana because he feared that Congressman Leo Ryan’s investigation would disgrace him. Specifically, Jones was afraid that Ryan and the press would uncover evidence that the leftist founder of the Peoples Temple was for many years an asset of the FBI and the CIA. This fear was, I believe, mirrored in various precincts of the U.S. intelligence community, which worried that Ryan’s investigation would embarrass the CIA

134 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS by linking Jones to some of the Agency’s most volatile programs--- including”mind-control studies….” “This, I believe, is why Jones’s 201-file was purged by the CIA immediately after Jones’s case-officer, Dan Mitrione, was murdered in Montevideo, Uruguay.” As far as I’m concerned, Jonestown was a CIA medical facility that used human beings for their mind-control programs. And Mitrione was an essential element in this agenda, working closely with Jim Jones. I would like to add that I personally believe Dan Mitrione Sr. to be one of the greatest assets the CIA had in South America during his time; as I believe Marcus was one of the agency’s greatest assets in Asia during his prime. I believe Mitrione was instrumental in the military take over that ousted Brazil’s communist President João Goulart in 1964; as I believe Marcus was instrumental in the assassination of Benigno Aquino, father of current Philippine President Noynoy Aquino in 1983. I believe Mitrione was also a vital component in the 2nd US occupation of the Dominican Republic in 1965; the same year when the US military began to deploy combat units in Vietnam. While George Bush was CIA director, he launched”Operation Condor’, setting up a network of terrorist assassins in Latin America. I believe Mitrione was instrumental in this program as well. Mitrione’s role for the US government must have been so crucial that Nixon himself tried to save Mitrione’s life when he was kidnapped by the Tupamoros. Forty years after his death the CIA agent is still making the news. I found this article on the Internet showing the relationship between Nixon and Mitrione. I would like to add that due to this close union between the two, some historians wonder whether

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Mitrione was involved in the assassination of John F. Kennedy. “Nixon urged death threats to Uruguayan prisoners, By RAUL O. GARCES, The Associated Press, Friday, August 13, 2010; 2:56 AM MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay -- Long-secret diplomatic cables show President Richard Nixon wanted the Uruguayan government to threaten to kill leftist prisoners in an attempt to save the life of a kidnapped U.S. agent 40 years ago this week.” Mitrione has been hailed a national hero by the US government. However, others have branded him,”one of the worst torturers in America’s history.” Imagine that. Imagine what it must have been like for Dan Junior to grow up in that home. Did his father keep the torture chamber in the basement of his home secret to his family? Did his wife know? Did the children know? How did they feel bout the Uruguayan police coming in and out of the basement during their training sessions? Did Mitrione’s wife ever see the actual torture chamber? Did Dan Junior sneak in to see it while his father was out of the house? Do you know why I ask? Where my questioning could come from? As I have mentioned before my father was a chief of police in our hometown in Isabela. He came from a tribe in the north, a tribe of hunters and warriors. Way back when, tribes settled their feuds through a duel using the machete. And they would fight to the death. My younger brother Tony told me a story of when he witnessed my father fight such a duel when Tony was five years old and again when he was six. He said both times my father won and both times he let the opponent live. My father’s action had been a puzzle to me for many years. I know my father was born to kill. It is embedded so strongly in his blood. Yet he let those men live. Still, like Mitrione Sr. my father had a very dark side to him. I love silence. I love the dark when it is silent. That is when I

136 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS can hear the beat of my heart. That is when I can connect with the dimension parallel to this reality and conquer the unknown. I treasure solitude and stillness. However, my sister Aida is just the opposite. She needs the TV on constantly. She cannot bear quietness. One day, I asked her why. “I don’t trust silence,” she said.”When there is quiet, what happens next is horrible. I hear screaming after,” she added.”Growing up in Isabela silence wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all.” What torments me to this day is the sound of my sister’s voice when she answered my question. There was horror in her speech, horror that penetrated my mind so deeply I can still hear the sound today. I found out later that my father had set up his own torture chamber in our property, not far from our home. Did my sisters hear sounds of screaming and pain when they were children coming from that place? What did they hear? How did they feel? They say I was three when we left our town. I wonder what memories are stored in my subconscious. Is this one of the reasons I can’t bear to see animals and people suffer? Is it because at such a young age, I heard the torment of agony? I cry as I write. How did we, his children, ever survive my father? And how will my children ever survive me? I think of Dan Junior. What a great mind he had. Yet something owns him. Something torments him from the past. I look at my brothers and sisters, and I see them the same way. It’s as if my father took something from them when they were children, something they could never retrieve. How do children ever recover from such anguished homes? How do we free ourselves from such pain, pain perpetrated by the same people who were supposed to love us and protect us from all harm? Maybe I survived my father because I

137 MARLENE AGUILAR never held back. I fought him head on. Dan also joined the FBI, but for different reasons. I believe his father joined the FBI and the CIA to serve the US government. However, I believe Dan joined the FBI to avenge his father, because he believes it was the US government that murdered his father. Do I believe the CIA had Dan Mitrione Sr. assassinated? Yes, I do. But I also believe that Mitrione Sr. knew it would end up like that. It is not unusual for the CIA to kill its own agents, once they’ve served their purpose. They certainly were not going to let Dan Mtirione Sr. walk around the planet as living proof of the atrocities the agency committed in South America. It’s so easy for the public to condemn a man like Mitrione Sr. when they have absolutely no idea what it’s like to be in his shoes. When a CIA operative is given an order, he follows. He is given the agenda, and he makes sure it is done. That’s what Mitrione Sr. did. Any agent who joins the CIA becomes a servant of that institution. In that sense, he loses ‘honor’, the kind the public knows and understands. But there is a different kind of ‘honor’ men like Mitrione possess. It is the kind of honor that pushes you to fulfill your sworn duty despite the world. I have decided not to write much on Dan Mitrione Jr.. However, I think his life is so mind blowing. He should write his story and share it with the world. When I think of Dan Mitrione Jr. now, I see a man who is gentle and sincere. I trusted him and confided in him. In addition, I believe with all my heart, he was honest with me. Maybe, that’s the face he wanted me to see. What happens to children who grow up in violent homes? I keep asking myself this question. I tried with all my might not to inflict physical pain on my children. As a child, I made a vow never to hit

138 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS my children. It happened one day while my father beat me. I hated him so much I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. It was then I realized I never wanted my children to feel that way about me. It was a horrible feeling to want to murder your own blood. I have kept this promise ever since. All those horrible moments of my childhood are not lost in my memory. Even as I type these words, my ears are deafened by the sound of screaming I hear from the child inside me. I hear Molly. And she is howling in the hands of my father, while her river of tears make ripples of waves caused by the sound of her own tragic pain. Marcus was also a product of a violent home. What would happen to his son Michael? Clearly, he seeks a vicious path going in and out of jail as a young man. Dan Mitrione Jr. followed his father’s footsteps and pursued a vicious life. Jason Ivler joined the Special Operations. Did we all do this to our children? At this point, I would like to share with you a few interesting stories about my life. Actually, I didn’t think either you or I were ready to confront this truth, until now. I cannot tell you which country the first story occurred. But remember, I have visited more than 30. I thought this would be a good time to tell you these stories, since I may not have a chance in book 5. My next novel is about my lovers. It is about the men in life, those that mattered. Here we go: Once upon a time, I worked with an arms dealer from the US who held a Bachelor’s degree from Cornell University. After that, he studied for a Masters degree at Harvard University. Let’s call him Harry. He’s white with curly hair, athletically built, and stands 6’3” tall. By the time I met him, he had traveled the world extensively and had also worked in some 30 countries. He’d been involved in

139 MARLENE AGUILAR several kinds of business, from the development of a five billion- dollar real estate project in Hawaii to commercial fishing, hotel projects, to manufacturing of beer and water vessels. When the new airport in Hong Kong first opened, Harry was there with a small group of VIPs to view the massive place. He had access to all sorts of arms from the smallest to biggest, whether for land, water or space. I was present during one meeting he had with a man from India. It’s not difficult for me to smell people. I could reach into a man’s mind and heart. And I can smell filth from a distance. When their conference was over, I told Harry that the person he was trying to do business with was double- dealing scum, and that he should be careful. He openly shared with me the agreement he had with the man. And I told him it wasn’t going to work out. Later on, he realized this Indian was trying to rip him off. I was right. His trust in my gift of sight was sealed after that. Thereafter he took me as his asset and brought me to all his important meetings. After every conference, he needed me to give him the psychological profile of each person in the room. He needed to know their emotional strengths and weaknesses. For example, after one meeting we had in Singapore, I told him: “The man who sat across from you is pussy whipped. The person to your left is a liar and a loser. He’d never get anything done. You don’t want to work with that one. The other three men are just processors. They don’t matter. The most interesting person out of all of them is the man seated at the head of the table. He enjoys killing people. He’s a leader and a potential mass murderer. But he’d get things done, and he will honor a deal. Just don’t fuck with him, and he is your best dream. Otherwise, he’s your worst nightmare. I’d work with him.”

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One afternoon, Harry and I went to a military camp to meet with a general. They were interested in purchasing several unsinkable boats outfitted with all sorts of communication gadgets and arms. I brought some brochures with me that had the photos and specifications of the patrol boats to give to the general and his men. The general’s office was inside a large house made of wood painted white located half a kilometer away from the main gate on the north side and about half that distance from a smaller gate facing east. The structure looked to me like it was built after WW2. When we arrived at his office, I noticed bookshelves behind his large wooden desk. There were also shelves to the left and right side of his working table overloaded with files of paperwork.Upon seeing us, he greeted us shaking first Harry’s hand and then mine giving us the most repulsive and false dog smile I ever saw. Then he opened a door facing his desk leading to his conference room. There were already five people waiting for us in the room when we walked in, all sporting fake smiles. Suddenly, I found myself sitting with Harry at a long table with eight people. Outside of the first general, there was one other general present in the room who looked as ghastly as the first one. In addition, four of their minions were present; all armed with inferior minds like their superiors. Within a few minutes, someone came in carrying a wooden tray with several glasses and a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. He began to go around pouring whisky for everyone. I hate whisky. Unfortunately, I was given my own glass. The room was filled with the energy of filth. Blackness commanded this place. I could smell the rancid odor of those men’s souls from where I sat, souls rotting in hell as they spoke to each other. Silently, I told myself I was in the presence of vultures. Inside me, Medea wanted to leap out and cut their throats. I wanted to puke in front

141 MARLENE AGUILAR of these men to show them my disgust. Add to that was the smell of whisky, which I loathe. I don’t believe it’s even the smell of this liquor I hate but the kind of men I connect it with. I was conditioned to associate whisky with Asian military generals and disgusting, dirty old men from Rotary and Lion’s clubs. They drink this kind of shit. And I spit on those men! The first general had his eyes on me. He kept grinning at me like a rabid dog, which made me want to cut his vile pecker off and shove it down his mouth. They raised their glasses and made a toast. I did the same. As they drank the disgusting alcohol, I pretended to do the same. However, placing the glass close to my nose made me so uncomfortable. I didn’t realize that in doing so, my shoulders twitched upward, and I’m sure my face at that exact moment didn’t hide how I felt either. Apparently, the first general stared at me while I struggled with my drink. “You okay there?” he asked. Instantly, I picked up my butt from my chair and corrected my posture.”I’m ok, general” I responded at once.”I was just adjusting my position. You see, my balls are too big, and my pants are too tight,” I answered with a nice smile, while glaring at him. The statement made him laugh, and all the others followed suit. At the same time, in my head I thought,”Laugh you animal. I could invite you to my chamber and have you for breakfast!” After an eternity, the horrible meeting was over. When we left the room, I noticed something conspicuous on one of the shelves near the general’s desk where documents were placed. I thought I saw the same brochure, which I was supposed to give the general, and which I just gave him inside the conference room. Plus, during the meeting, the general acted as if this was the first time he was seeing the brochure I had given it to him. But how did another booklet

142 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS end up in the shelf? In addition, it looked like it had been sitting there for some time. According to Harry, he was the only man in this country with the sanction to trade these goods. So how did the general get the brochure ahead of us? I also noticed a piece paper stuck between the pages of the catalogue. It was a letter. As Harry and I walked away from the building to the parking lot I warned him immediately.”Someone’s fucking you.” “What do you mean?” he asked surprised. “Who sent you to these people?” I asked. He gave me the answer at once. Apparently, the agreement was that this person who sent him to sell the boats and arms to these generals was never to contact them directly. “You’re getting fucked Harry. Your partner in this deal is fucking you!” I told him. “No! That’s not possible, you must be mistaken. We have a contract,” he stated. “Then I’ll prove to you he’s fucking you!” I declared. That meeting was on a Friday afternoon. I was seeing a European man at the time who drove a fancy car. His bloodline was connected to a Royal Family. Needless to say he grew up over privileged, which means he bored the living daylights out of me. Marcus saw him dining with me in a fancy restaurant once. After that, the next time I saw him, he made sure to tell me what he thought of my then- current lover. “What’s he got?” he said sneering like a dog.”You’ll spit him out in six months.” When this European lover and I woke up the next morning, I told him he had to drive me somewhere after breakfast. So he drove me back to the same camp where Harry and I were the day before. “Enter the gate to your left and keep driving” I told my lover.

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Eventually, we reached the white house where the general’s office was located. The car was only three meters away from the structure. I could see the door I was about to raid. “Stop the car,” I stated.”But keep the engine running.” The European looked at me surprised and asked,”Marlene what are you doing?” “Just keep the engine running, give me 20 minutes. If I’m not back by then, you can leave.” “Marlene, what the hell are you doing?” He asked me seriously this time; the fear in his eyes was so apparent. He sensed the danger he found himself in. After all, we were in some military camp surrounded by legions of armed men, and I was about to steal some documents. “See that house? In there is the office of a general. I’m going to go into that room, and I’m going to steal something. Give me 20 minutes!” I went into the large house and found a uniformed and armed man sitting outside the room guarding the place. The office of the general was closed. However, I was able to enter his room and take what I needed. And yes, I did it within 20 minutes. How did I do it? I will tell you. First, I made sure I was dressed and dolled up like a Barbie doll, like an air head. I wore mini skirt and high-heeled shoes, looking like a harlot. I walked down the hallway to the general’s office, clutching loads of paperwork with my right hand toward my chest. I approached the guard with a big smile and the sweetest voice. “Hi! Do you remember me?” I asked him.”I was here with my American boss, we had a meeting with the general. I met you here yesterday, don’t you remember me?” The guard stood before me dumbfounded and confused. He wasn’t there the day before. I just

144 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS said that to fuck with his head. “Please, I need your help. Otherwise, I will lose my job,” I pleaded. I unfolded one of the brochures and showed him the pages, making sure I was close enough so he could smell me. I’m sure my strong, sweet perfume drowned his senses at that moment. “See these two brochures?” I told him.”I gave one of these to the general yesterday, but I think I gave him the wrong one. And if I gave him the wrong one then my boss will fire me.” The uniformed man just stared at me in surprise. “Please, I need to check if I gave the general the right brochure. It will take two minutes, I promise. I know exactly where he placed it after I gave it to him yesterday. It’s on one of those shelves by the left side of his desk.” So the guard let me in. I took the brochure from the shelf. Then I quickly shuffled the brochures before the man, talking to him at the same time. And right before his eyes, I stole the documents I wanted. After I left the general’s place I called Harry immediately. “Meet me. I have the stuff. I told you he’s fucking you!” The catalog contained a letter from the very same man making the unsinkable boats, the same man who told Harry he wouldn’t contact these military men directly. I will tell you a couple more stories about Harry and me. He wanted me to hook him up with the admiral of a certain country in Southeast Asia. Information says this country wanted to purchase a submarine. So I made one phone call after another phone call, after another phone call. I don’t have to tell you that I used a different name making those phone calls. But eventually I got Harry the appointment to see the admiral. Finally, the admiral came to the Philippines at a time when the Armed Forces were considering buying fighter planes. I was told the

145 MARLENE AGUILAR kinds of planes they required were produced in two countries only. France and Israel. Harry decided to use his contacts in Israel.”I’d rather work with the Jews,” he said. At this time, he decided to work with another an English man who was a former agent for the MI6. He had written a book about espionage, but after flipping through a few pages, I realized the man couldn’t write so I didn’t bother reading his novel. One day the former MI6 agent and Harry had lunch in my home. That was many years ago. “Were you with the CIA?” the Brit asked Harry.”I could do a background check on you, but I thought it’d faster if you just answer the question.” “No,” Harry said. I sat at the table staring at the two men in front of me. This was during the time when Marcus was missing in action trapped somewhere in Cambodia. Harry had direct contact with a CIA agent who was stationed in Singapore. In my mind, I wondered if Harry knew of my association with Marcus. I didn’t think so. The problem with men is that they always underestimate women. During this period in my life, Harry met with some generals from the Philippine Army while he, the former MI6 agent and his contact in Israel, emailed one another back and forth. He often discussed with me the contents of the emails. I was Harry’s confidante at this point, and he needed my mind to analyze his actions and his contacts’ motives. One fateful day, I walked into Harry’s office and found his computer was on. It was then I saw the email of his Jewish contact in Israel discussing what he thought of the military generals in the Philippines. It was nasty. I don’t know what happened next. It’s not even because I disagreed with the Jew, but I retaliated against his

146 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS declaration attacking the Filipino generals anyway. So, I replied to his email at once. I believe I wrote him something like this: “You have no right to insult my generals, you mindless fuck! Like other pompous men, I bet you’re short, bald, fat and your dick must be the size of my little finger!” When Harry realized what I had done he came to see me at home immediately. I had just finished breakfast, and I was still sitting at the dining table when he arrived. He stood before me with red face and eyes glaring like a wolf. “What’s wrong?” I asked him nicely. “What have you done? You insulted this Jewish man,” he stated with an angry voice. “He insulted my generals,” I answered with emotional detachment. When I see someone angry, I already know I am in command over the situation better than ever. “Marlene! This man is the former chief of Mossad. He could be next prime minister of Israel! He’s a hero to his people. Yet you insult the man! Your behavior is unacceptable! How do you expect him to continue doing business with us when you insult him like this? Do you even realize he could have our heads right now if he wished?” he yelled. “What’s he going to do, kill me because I said his dick is small?” I replied in a gentle voice. “He’s pissed off!” Harry yelled again. “He’s mad because a tiny Asian girl like me said his dick is small. Tell him I said he should get over it, be a man,” I said. “You actually think you’re going to get away with this just like that?” he asked while taking his seat across from me. “Then tell him I apologize for saying his dick is small. Happy? While you’re at it, tell him I’d l really like to see it, just to see if I’m

147 MARLENE AGUILAR wrong,” I added while he glared at me in utter disbelief. I could feel he wanted to strangle me for pushing him so very close to the edge of insanity. In my mind, I thought if he even attempted to get physical on me, I’d drive the butter knife sitting on the table so close to my right hand through his neck. “Oh please, Harry,” I said softly.”Please tell him I really, really want to see his dick,” I repeated with a sweet voice. “What is wrong with you?” he screamed some more.”You don’t fuck with the mind of a man like him!” “Ok, I’ll make him a bet. Tell him I want to seeee his dick! If I am right and its small, I’ll chop it off, and keep it as a souvenir. But, if I’m wrong, I’ll have two of my gay friends blow him to cum fighting over his cock at the same time, while I watch. How about that?” I said giggling out of control. The arms’ dealer gazed at me fuming with utter frustration. Then he walked out. I hate it when someone threatens my life. My own father had threatened to kill me since age three. So I’ve become oblivious to bullying since childhood. I don’t know which part of my dialog Harry shared with the former Mossad chief but later that day, he came back to me. “He wants me to send him a recent photo of you,” he uttered calmly. So, I gave Harry my latest modeling picture. Earlier on, I was hired to do an ad for a skin cream product. The following day, we saw each other again. “He forgives you,” he told me smiling.”You’re lucky, your big mouth comes with a pretty face, otherwise you’d have lost your head a long time ago,” he added gasping and shaking his head. “So, do I get to see his dick?” I replied with a smile. Once upon a time, I visited a province in China on my own. When

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I arrived at my hotel from the airport, I checked in immediately. “Passport, Ma’am,” the female concierge said standing across me with a fake smile. I handed her my official document. “Credit card, Ma’am,” she stated immediately after taking my passport. I reached into my wallet and gave her one of my credit cards. Immediately, I realized I made a terrible mistake. I stood there, anxious. I thought in my head,”Oh my god. How am I going to get out of this situation? The credit card I gave her did not match the name on my passport.” I remained in my place while I watched her check my passport while she took down notes on a document. Then she grabbed my credit card and swiped it. My face remained calm, but inside me, my heart beat fast knowing within a few minutes I could be interrogated and detained by Chinese security. All of a sudden she said,”You’ll be in room 540, Ma’am. The valet will bring your baggage to your room.” She didn’t even look at the name on my credit card. Thank god. January 2008, Steve and I visited the state of Palau, one of my favorite destinations in the world. ADB sent him there for a mission regarding the country’s economy. This was nearly six months after that group of military men had stormed into Bulan. This was a terrible time, a time when the CIA had begun their heavy surveillance on me again. Steve and I stayed at the Pacific Resort Hotel, which to me was the best waterfront accommodation available in the country at the time. We stayed at a cottage tastefully decorated and with ample space, facing the ocean. Pacific Resort Hotel caters to honeymooners, couples and families on vacation from Europe, Japan and Korea. It also caters to divers, since Palau offers some of the best diving sites in the world. When we checked into the resort, I noticed two men in the lobby

149 MARLENE AGUILAR that didn’t belong to the place. The first one was Caucasian with light brown hair. The other was a brunette, and he looked to me like he came from the Baltic States in northern Europe. They arrived the same time we did, and they were definitely not there on vacation. To me, they looked like government spies sent there to track down some VIP. Upon unpacking our clothes and other personal items in the cottage, Steve and I immediately headed for the bar close to the beach. This was around 10am. I wore my two piece black bikini along with a blue sarong wrapped around my waist, carrying a leather bag with my laptop. I also brought a smaller bag with sun tanning oil and sunscreen lotion for my face. Steve wore black swimmers with a black sarong over it to match. Near the bar was the large restaurant of the hotel facing the ocean. To its left was the pool, and to its right was the bar. It was a glorious morning in Palau that particular day. And the sun smiled upon us from heaven beaming with delight. I stood in an open area where several chairs and tables were propped in front of the restaurant. From this perfect vantage point, I could see the people at the beach, the bar, the pool and the restaurant. I looked around turning 360 degrees checking the people around me. Between the beach, the bar, the pool and the restaurant, there must have been over 300 people within my eyes’ reach. “There’s only one man in this entire place I find worth talking to. Like me, he’s lived an exciting life. He’s crossed many lines people wouldn’t imagine exist,” I told Steve. “Which man is that?” he asked. “Look to your left. You see that tall lanky man in the black bikini, that’s the one. Like me, he comes from a world unknown to most men,” I stated. Steve and I had lunch al fresco that day facing the ocean, with the

150 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS bar only four meters to our right and the restaurant several meters behind us. He sat to my right, while I faced the waterfront directly. When he left to go to work, I stayed sitting at the table writing narrative for my coffee-table book called Philippines. The book features the artworks of Filipino watercolorist Nick Masangcay showcasing some 250 beautiful destinations in the country. Not long after I had started typing, suddenly I heard a strange voice. “May I join you?” he asked. I looked up and saw a skinny giant towering above me. He must have been 6’3” tall. He had the oddest- looking face; similar to the faces of pirates you would see in the movie Pirates of the Caribbean.”What sad looking features he has,” I thought to myself. And his stature was just as bad. Mother Nature didn’t give this man any redeeming features regarding his looks. There he was, the very same man I had marked earlier that morning. The very same man I pointed to Steve. Coincidence? I don’t believe so. Did he wait for Steve to leave before he confronted me? Absolutely. Let’s call him Caccio. “Yes, please join me,” I answered, closing my laptop. Like me, given the right company Caccio spoke openly. Apparently, he worked as an architect for Saddam Hussein. And he was in Iraq when the US invaded the place. He also had friendly relations with some members of royal families in the Middle East, including princes and the king of Saudi Arabia. All the time we talked, the two strange men I saw in the lobby earlier sat in the restaurant directly behind us facing us. So, at one point during the conversation, Caccio asked me: “Are you under surveillance?” he said. “Yes,” I answered. “Do you think they monitored your trip here?” he queried.

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“Yes,” I said. “So, what do you think about those two men behind you? Are they after you or me?” he asked. “They’re watching us both,” I replied. Caccio and I talked non-stop from 1:30 pm until 6 in the evening. That was more than enough time for me to realize the man goes to the highest bidder. Everything about him was for sale. Money is his god. I disliked him utterly. When Steve returned he found me where he left me, talking to the stranger. I introduce them to each other. I stayed in Palau for 10 nights, and during the time I was there, I only ate in three places, one served Japanese food, another served Indian food, and the third served European food. Everyday, Steve called the concierge at around 2 pm, to book our reservations for dining at 6pm. As I have mentioned earlier, I prefer to eat dinner early whereas Europeans dine late at around 8pm or later. Still, every night, regardless of which restaurant we went to, the two strange men were always present. Moreover, they would sit only two tables away from Steve and I. They followed us wherever we dined every single night. On two occasions, they arrived at the place earlier than Steve and I. I wonder if they thought I wouldn’t notice. On the day we left Palau to go back to Manila, Caccio was in the same flight as we were. He had decided to visit Palawan to go diving. The two government agents who followed us every night checked out of the hotel the same time we did. So Steve, Caccio, the two spies and I ended up in the same plane that day like one big happy family. I have never been fond of Miss California, but she is a necessary baboon in my life. Here’s a conversation I had with her that I posted on my FB notes on October 5, 11. Her narrative is in Italics. “Your former president had a hit list, which lists thousands of

152 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS names, including her enemies and even her allies.” “Why would she want her allies dead?” “Because she doesn’t trust them anymore. Your name is included and it was given to different military sectors of your government.” “So there are several copies?” “Yes. One set is kept in a building near Hyatt Hotel in Manila. The contact, a close ally of your former president is selling the document to us.” “How much?” “10 million pesos.” “Are they thinking of buying it?” “Yes.” “Are you fucking stupid? You have the exact location where the documents are kept. You said it yourself. It’s kept in a condominium unit near the Hyatt Hotel. So why the fuck would anyone pay for documents that could be stolen? You’re so full of shit. Give me the 10 million and I’ll steal those goddamn papers!” This correspondence between Miss California and I is visible to all my FB friends. At the end of the above dialog, I wrote a message to Becca Padilla. I wrote: “To my beloved soul sister Rebecca Padilla, do you remember meeting Miss California in my home one evening? I hope you’re checking your FB these days.” “Yo sister, I am back. How can I forget Miss California... And how nervous she was in your presence (though she may never admit it). I am wondering how she survived after meeting with you a few times? Hmmm….,” she responded. On September 13, 2011, I posted the statement below on Facebook and filed it under notes. “What would you think of me if I told you that I used to kill

153 MARLENE AGUILAR people for a living? Would you believe me? Would you think any different of me? Would you still love me? Or would you now hate me?” Here are the replies coming from some of my dearest soul children, my soul family, as well as supporters. Their names precede their comments. Aimee Rivadillo-”Ma, I love you for who you are. You know that. ª” Jesuke Capuz -”I’d still love you and love you even more.” Farrah Marasigan -”Tita, I knew all about that from reading Warriors of Heaven. And guess what? I still love you. You are my soul mother and I’m very grateful to have you in my life. I miss you and Maya, Tita. :)” Geneva Basilio -”I will always love you until death Mother! Hanggang Mamatay! Love you Ma!” Lei Cleofas -”I love you forever soul mom, because of who you are and what you will always be.” Ian Simon -”I would love to help you kill more corrupt people working for the government, so we could live. xoxox” Sheryll Joy -”When I met you here on Facebook, I read all your writings. Well there is something in your words that I cannot find in others. You are very deep. You’re such a talented person Marlene. Just do whatever you wanna’ do. I will always believe in you...” Jessica Gutierrez Herrera - ”Mama...... love you very much,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,intense..” Jonathan Respetadoz - ”I still love you Mom. You are a genuine person.” Tina Enad Tagle -”I have been given the chance to know you up close and personal, I don’t believe it. You are the gentlest soul I have come across. Gentle but strong. And if you really did, I won’t feel

154 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS any less. If you’re my friend, right or wrong you ARE my friend.” Charlotta Mackie-Gordon of Texas -”I will still love you!” Michael Stewart -”You don’t kill people in a literal sense. You kill your enemies by the power of your pen. Your intellect is a great and powerful arsenal.” Ryan Vale Cruz Mahilan -”Do you want my helping hand???” Marco Fortunay –”Well Mom if that is so then you should teach me how to kill too, so you will never be alone!” Anton Abella –”Were all here for you ma, as I’ve told you before I’m willing to kill anyone for you! We still love you and love you even more despite that.” Rebecca Padilla –”As for me, I love you even more. One has to kill, to heal. (not necessarily in such order I think)... Besides, who says you were talking from this realm, and not from the higher plane indeed? Ha ha! I miss you so sister. With you on that realm, always and all times.” Donnasarah Albarquez –”Mommy, you have my unconditional love, and I will give it to you completely. From the beginning of the controversies surrounding you, right from day 1, I never prejudged you - especially I saw how you fought those bastards in the name of love for Jason. You have my respect Marlene Aguilar. Maria Rachelle Manzano -”As the old saying goes, you never know who will come across your life and some come in as a big surprise. For whatever reason I met you. I will always be thankful and feel blessed to have known you.” Mhel Franko Bajas II – I am speechless. Amen. But they will be done. Bobby Garwood, a former US Marine -”LOVE, LOYALTY & RESPECT SHALL FOLLOW YOU THROUGHOUT YOUR GLORIOUS & VICTORIOUS ROAD, ‘HAIL SHE DRAGON!’”

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Zaida Aguilar, my sister -”I will not believe you because, the accepted social norm is for people who had done such a thing, like Hitler and all the people who supported him, suffer the consequences of such actions, whether it be five, ten, fifteen, thirty, or more years later. Crime does not pay and corresponding consequences, based on societal norms, will happen as a result of the past actions. In the event of insanity, people still suffer the consequence of their actions and undergo the treatment, and the confinement that the norm requires to protect the people from them.” Here was my answer: “Ate Aida, you’re so protective. :D. But I don’t agree - the best assassins do not suffer the consequences of their actions. Some have become leaders of States, and from this imperious position they have had the power to kill more. Some of the greatest names in history are not just killers, they were mass murderers - Agamemnon, Darius the Great, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Queen Elizabeth, Queen Buadica of England, Genghis Khan, Stalin, Hitler, including the Popes of the Vatican Church who led countless of wars in the name of Christ. Were they insane? I don’t think so. Did these mass murderers suffer the consequences of their actions? No. During their time, they were hailed as gods and goddesses on earth. And even today they are seen as great names in history. They changed the world.” My sister wrote back: “You are right, but their generation is completely different from this generation. In their time, the apparent value of human life was different from the value of human life in the 21st century. The power assessment was based on amassing and accumulating wealth from conquered countries as well as the number of lives destroyed and captivated if there were any left behind. In this century, at least

156 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS based on the apparent and not based on the underlying, power is based on economic success.” My answer to the above statement: Dear Ate Aida, Most of the names I mentioned earlier were exceptional with both left and right side of their brains. I believe these are the kinds of men and women who could change the world. And these people exist today. As far as I’m concerned, nothing much has changed about mankind since the medieval ages. Most of mankind is as dumb and as greedy today as they were then. The big difference is, today there are so many of us populating the world, the earth can no longer sustain the needs of man. And if we were allowed to continue this kind of existence the planet will die. Imagine the population of China and India in the next three years, or in five years to 10 years. Mankind faces karma. Because man continues to destroy the very same thing that gives him life - mother nature. The ultimate conflict today is the survival of Gaea against man. In order for the earth to survive mankind must die. Wars will come and these wars will be around for a very long time until the earth is satiated. And so mankind is doomed, doomed to pay for his greed and ignorance. Here is my favorite comment from the flamboyant Buddhist seer Paulie, my spiritual guide on earth, and my eternal soul mate. In the way he uses the Tagalog word kikay below. It’s Swarding and the best English translation I can think of to describe the word is flirt. Paulie wrote: “I would still love you unconditionally. Besides what would you think of a Dragon? The first thing that comes to mind is that it is a top predator. Second, it breathes fire. And third, you never piss off a

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Dragon because all hell would break loose. On the other hand, I see myself as a Unicorn, rare, whimsical, vain, and inspirational a.k.a. kikay!!!! Hahahahahah! As to the ideology of punishment, rehabilitation and reforms, like the common saying that”Crime doesn’t pay,” it is said to be true. However, I see the She Dragon’s role more as a time of reckoning like when the goddess Nemesis strikes. The connections and timelines in this world are so convoluted but very simple in execution. What if the She Dragon is like the Goddess Nemesis? What if it is her that addresses the will of Heaven to execute karmic payback and reckoning? Then, it is meant to be. It is vested by fate and destiny. How could you destroy someone who was chosen and fated to destroy and annihilate you? You cannot, since she is your karmic payback, empowered by the will of the galaxies. The She Dragon is the grand Equalizer that was sent to this matrix to act on proper checks and balances.” As I read the narrative of Paulie, I couldn’t help but laugh. He always, always makes me laugh. Still, I realize his candid humor was borne out of great pain. Like me, Paulie has faced the unknown repeatedly from a young age, and from the hands of people who were supposed to love and protect him. He and I come from the land of broken toys. So in many ways, he is fearless like me. I sent the Buddhist oracle a message saying: “I just read something you wrote for me. It made me laugh so much. You are so full of wisdom. You are my spiritual consort, my confidante, my light, and my eternal soul mate. I love you always through yin and yang, and everything else in between.” He wrote back and said: “You instill and inspire knowledge and wisdom. You teach people to think out of the box and free their minds from society’s

158 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS mainstream preconceived notions and perceptions. You are a catalyst for change and enlightenment!!! Here and beyond, you are destined for greatness and only greatness.” “Before I go, I would like to add that the most honorable men I have ever had the fortune of knowing, have killed people. They have eradicated vultures from this planet. And I hope that they will continue to do so. That is my truth.” Now, I would like to share with you a series of narratives I posted on my FB wall last year. If you have a Facebook account, you’d find them under my personal notes. Here is the link, http:// www.facebook.com/marlene.aguilar.92/notes. And here below are my declarations. “Playing the game – most recent conversation with Caesar, February 12, 2012: Me to Caesar – ‘Remember, I said I needed you? Then I realized I shouldn’t. They own you. It’s one of the reasons I’m leaving. The only way to win is not to play their game. In addition, we could never be lovers. You’re a robot.’ Caesar – ‘Interesting, however, they don’t own me. They use me. Is not playing really winning, or are you just running? ‘ Me – ‘What do you know about winning? In your world, you think you’ve won. You lost plenty. And the worst part is you lost you. I don’t want that to happen to me. If I continue they would own us both. I had hoped otherwise but you didn’t attain the freedom I thought you would achieve. You’re not whole because you’re not free.’ Caesar – ‘We all lose something all the time. Life is a compromise.’ Me – ‘Compromise is different from imprisonment and slavery. You are their slave. I could never be.” “Green Beret, a song I wrote for Caesar, commander of the Special

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Forces a.k.a. the Green Berets

Date - January 21, 2012 Green Beret

Damn, you’re so amazing Your presence so compelling You’re the man in control Serving the box that I abhor

They say you’ll save the day The man they call the Green Beret So perfect you are for making war But In your heart there is a scar

CHORUS Kill the Muslims, kill the Muslims Is that what the general said Truth is we’re sisters and brothers Sharing this dying planet

Soldier called the Green Beret Save the world this I say Didn’t you know war is a scam Created by your Uncle Sam

I hope you find your inner peace Despite the bloody killing fields “Cause no matter what you do It is god that’s chosen you

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CHORUS Kill the Muslims, kill the Muslims Is that what the general said Truth is we’re sisters and brothers Sharing this dying planet

She Dragon January 21, 12”

“I am grateful to my father who beat me, November 12, 2011 My father was not only alcoholic. He beat his children terribly. I can’t explain to you in words the great pain that comes when the man who is supposed to protect you inflicts, instead, great harm upon you. Yet, today if I could go back in time and do it all over again, I would choose the same life. Why? Because it is that pain that has powered my strength. No one can bring me down because my father taught me to live to the extreme. So, today, I can accept the extreme and handle it. Bad things happen because they challenge us to become stronger and better people. To this day, I can’t stand to see the suffering of man because to me it was worse to see those I love take the beating from my father. I’d rather he beat me instead. He beat me so much I grew up with great tolerance of pain. My threshold of pain is very high, compared to others. You see with bad experiences comes something good. According to my MMA trainer,”In the last 11 years he’s been teaching martial arts in China and the Philippines, I’m the best female fighter he’s ever mentored.” You know why? My father taught me to fight!!!” “Why relationships don’t work, Aug 26, 2011 “The problem with most men is that they can’t see beyond a

161 MARLENE AGUILAR woman’s beautiful face and body. That goes for women as well, regarding how they see men. So people end up in relationships because of physical attraction. People get together for the wrong reason, a superficial and shallow reason. In addition, in our society, women are attracted to men for financial and material gain. And that is why most relationships are screwed up. These people are connected only from without.” “I believe that relationships between two people should come from within. The most powerful connection is that of the soul, nothing else.” “Regarding the church condemning homosexuals, December 12, 2011: “Why should the institution’s opinion matter to begin with? Love comes in all shapes, colors and forms defying religion, race, age, nationality, gender and the physical form. The greatest union is the union of the soul, not the body. Why does the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) put so much importance on gender, when it is only the physical form that addresses this issue? What they are saying is that the body, and not the soul, should dictate love. That is wrong.” “Most Catholic priests I’ve known are homosexuals! What a bunch of hypocrites! My body is female, my mind is male, and my soul is neither.” “FUCK GENDER ISSUE! FUCK THE CHURCH! AND FUCK THE INSTITUTION!” I support gay marriage because I support freedom.” While we’re still discussing my engagement on FB, one day I received an interesting message from a British man named Jones Nelson. He stated: “Am Jones Nelson From UK am in need of nanny and if you are

162 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS willing to apply get back to me with your email address now or you can send me mail via [email protected].” I placed Jones Nelson’s inquiry on my FB along with this message: “To Mr. Jones Nelson: I live in a large house with a floor area of 12,000 square feet and 18 rooms. It has been featured in all the top newspapers and magazines, including Philippine Tattler. I have two drivers, one cook, one personal secretary, one gardener, two people to clean the house, one nanny, one maintenance man and two messengers. Oh, and I have traveled the world business class. I’m hoping to go to the US this month, then New Zealand and UK. I’d be happy to meet with you in England only if you agree that we spar. I know Muay Thai, Judo and Jui-jitsu and could kill a man with my bare hands. In addition, I have one masseuse who comes to the house five days a week to give me two-hour massages every session. On top of that I have four personal trainers that I see six days a week - two for martial arts, one for weights and one for dance. There are days when I work out with three trainers back to back for three hours straight. I also have a personal manicurist who sees me every five days to do my nails. I prefer to drink and dine only in five of the top restaurants in Manila. When I come, they put the ‘reserved’ sign on the tables near mine to make sure no one sits near me. They do this not only to protect my privacy, but they know I do not like the sound of people talking (other than myself and my company) when I’m eating. In all honesty Mr. Jones, I don’t think you could afford to feed me lunch, never mind hire me as staff. So, how about I hire you to shine my shoes and kiss my ass? Send your resume to aguilarmarlene@ yahoo.com.” One afternoon rain poured heavily outside my home. I sat on

163 MARLENE AGUILAR the floor at the entrance of my receiving room facing the garden, watching nature expunge herself, while on the phone I spoke to my younger sister Tess. Streams of water came down from the heavens consuming the barren earth. Tess had read the beginnings of the last chapter of Bringer of Death just the night before. She asked me why I remained defiant against the system, considering my son Jsin, who is her nephew, suffers in jail. “Why don’t you just accept your destiny once for all? Aren’t you tired of fighting? I’m exhausted from just watching you. You and Jsin have suffered so much already, along with every member of your family. Why won’t you give in for a change?” she implored. “My insolence doesn’t harm my destiny,” I answered.”On the contrary, my defiance validates it.” I told you in book three that I would tell you about two personalities I met while I was detained in the NBI jail after the raid on my home on January 18, 2010. The NBI detention center holds two large rooms where they separate the men from the women. The building where the tri- media had a fiasco over my tragedy was not far from this location, it is only a couple of buildings away. So after the media circus, an agent escorted me to this detention facility. Upon entering the female quarters, two meters to my right, I saw a large woman who appeared like the head security for some Nazi concentration camp. I will call her Bertha. She stood around 5’7” in height and weighed 250lbs. In comparison, I weigh only 98lbs. She looks as though she’s been fighting in the streets her whole life. She was wild and angry. She stood to my left and with her right hand, she held a wooden paddle similar to a baseball bat, around 20” long. The agent left immediately after he introduced me to the female Brutus. I stood two feet away from the entrance facing a wall one meter

164 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS away from me. There was a big poster on the wall with the words, RULES AND REGULATIONS written on top with big bold letters. “Read the rules!” big Bertha yelled with a masculine tone in her voice, still gripping her bat, swaying it back and forth. Meanwhile, in my head, I was gauging how I could survive her in a fight.”No one survives this place without obeying the rules!” Betha continued”And I’m the one making sure all these girls around here behave themselves!” So, I read the rules out loud. When I was finished, I was surprised to see that the Bertha had softened. Her demeanor toward me changed drastically. In a gentle voice, she asked me to sit close to her, and she offered me some noodle soup to eat. It is rude in my country not to accept a gift, so I started to eat her offering. She stared at me, observing me in silence. Then she spoke. “You are not like them,” she said softly.”These people in here and out there, they’re dogs! They are cowards, and they’d eat up each other. They have no integrity, no honor! But you, you are brave. Everyone who enters this place, they’re terrified. I never heard anyone read those rules like you did. There’s no fear in you, no fear of death, no fear at all. I can smell you. And I admire people like you. Don’t worry about your son. He’s brave like his mother. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll protect you while you’re here.” That woman was kind enough to share with me her mattress when everyone went to bed that night. Otherwise I would have slept on the cold cement floor. But I didn’t get much sleep, worried to death about Jsin. Bertha woke up a few times during the night and found me crying. Every time she stroked my head gently and comforted me saying,”Allah protects the brave.” Apparently, that woman was the bride of one of the members

165 MARLENE AGUILAR of Al Qaeda who was extradited from the Philippines to the States. While in detention at NBI, I also befriended Andal Ampatuan, who is charged with multiple counts of murder because of the Ampatuan massacre. The name Ampatuan strikes fear within the hearts of most Filipinos because of media propaganda. As they did with Jsin, the press condemned Andal before any trial. Most of the men in jail shared one big room like the women. However, Andal had his own room next to the women’s chamber all to himself with his own cook and two servants. I was told he had paid off the top officials in NBI to get this special treatment. The night I spent in jail, I heard a man crying in the middle of the night. However, the wailing I heard sounded like it came from a boy who was terribly hurt, whimpering for his mother. When I woke up the following morning, I asked Bertha about the moaning I had heard. “That’s Andal Ampatuan,” she said.”During the night he sometimes cries and calls for his mother like a baby.” Before I left for the Caribbean, Diane came to the house at around 5pm to pick me up. We were going to dinner at the Fireplace. I had been on the phone when she arrived, so I wasn’t dressed yet. It isn’t a problem. As Maya says, it takes me 10 minutes to get ready. After Diane and I greeted each other, I gave her my laptop. “Here,” I said.”This is Chapter 2. It’s really about you. Read it while I take a shower and get dressed.” “Wow!” she uttered.”Okay Tita.” When I came out all dressed, I found her still sitting at the dining table where I had left her. “What do you think?” I asked her. “Tita, I don’t know what to say. I’m famous now ‘cause I’m in your book! I love it! I’m going to show the book to my Mom and

166 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS my brother. And I’m going to say, see I’m famous and you’re not!” she stated giggling like a child. “I think our conversations make my book interesting. People will learn from it. Where are they going to find people like you and me, talking so openly the way we do? You’re my son’s girlfriend. Like you say, we’re supposed to hate each other!” I declared laughing. “It’s true, Tita. I tell my friends about us, and they don’t get it,” she said.”Tita, how do you remember the things we talked about? You wrote what we said to each other like you recorded them.” “Actually, Tita Becca said the same thing about the narrative between her and myself. She said, she doesn’t’ know how I could recall conversations that happened between us so clearly. It’s really only Jsin that’s a pain in the ass about my narrative with him. I’m writing these novels to understand better what happened to me, hoping my life and my pain inspires others. My life is so bizarre and crazy, if I didn’t stick to the truth, I’d be the first to suffer. By the way, I feel ok about going away, knowing you’re there to take care of Jsin. Thank you,” I told Diane. I could feel the spirit of Diane surround me as I wrote about her. She must be thinking about me, I thought. Then I left my laptop to go upstairs to get my black sneakers. I need them for exercise before lunch. I dance an hour a day. I also do some yoga and abs work out. It’s all I can do while I’m away from my trainers. On the way down the stairs, I noticed I had a message on my mobile phone. I opened the message, and there I saw Diane’s text to me.”Tita, belated happy birthday. I tried to text you several times but my messages won’t get through. I miss you and love you so much.” I replied to her at once and wrote,”Thank you. I miss you and love you too. I was just writing about you.” I have decided to include in this chapter a series of email exchanges

167 MARLENE AGUILAR between Miss California and me. Her narrative is in Italics. To my son Jsin, I just want you to know that today June 29, 2012, I woke up this morning telling myself that for once, I will put the exact dates when these emails were sent out only to please you. Just so you know, after you read this book, I swear I’m going to quiz you on the dates. So, pay attention. November 22, 2010, 9:30am, I sent this email to the female grunt. “The rally at the US Embassy was a success. I now have immediate access to 3K and more protestors who will support me next time there is a rally, but their fare and food allowance must be considered, because the majority of my allies come from extremely poor backgrounds. They barely eat three times a day. The head of the National Press Club Benny Antiporda and his minions had just come back from the US. He told Charlie Lozo during a meeting that it was former President GMA herself who funded the hate campaign and the news block out against Jason and me. Benny also told Charlie he was the one who had him fired from his job. This was after he wrote an article supporting my public demonstrations against the government, which Charlie called Mother’s Protest. Charlie had a column for one of the tabloids. His employer dismissed him because of me. Later during the meeting, Benny apologized for his deed and asked Charlie not to take it personally since it was just ‘work’. He also told Charlie that things are now different.”Marlene is now welcomed and you can write whatever you want to support her,” he said. So they gave Charlie his own column back and, for the first time, put his photo in it to make him happy. It appears Benny and crew made a U-turn regarding Jsin and me after their trip to the US. The survey for the top five most talked about personalities and TV

168 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS celebrities will be coming out in the tabloids this week. This survey is done every year by the biggest organization of tri-media members, including the entertainment industry. Survey says, Abnoy is number one, and I come in second. Willy Revillame is number three, Vicky Bello is four, and Robin Padilla is number five. Now, according to the editors,”only photos of Abnoy and Marlene” should be shown in the papers. Why the sudden change of tune? Clearly, I am the enemy of the state. Obviously, I am the enemy of GMA who is still in power. And I am also the enemy of Abnoy since I am a national security threat. So why this sudden change?” “DO NOT TRUST BENNY. HE IS STILL BEING USED BY PGMA AND WILL USE INFO TO KILL CHARLIE, ETC. TRUST ME.” Benny is just using Charlie now. He knows he is being watched and pressured. Benny is still with the Arroyos - trust me. We are monitoring him. He has plans to kill Charlie. That’s how some of our journalists got murdered. It was due to Benny. THE SUDDEN CHANGE IS BECAUSE OF THE DOCUMENTS I GAVE YOU THAT CAN DESTROY THEM, INCLUDING PGMA AND ABNOY. IT PROVES THE GOVERNMENT IS BEHIND THESE ALLEGED MURDERS. THE KILLINGS ARE ON-GOING EVEN AFTER PGMA’S TERM AS IT IS CONSTANT IN THE PHILIPPINES. USE THAT DOCUMENT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. BUT NEVER TRUST BENNY AND HIS GROUP. THEY ARE ONLY TRYING TO GET INSIDE INFORMATION ABOUT YOU AND YOUR ALLIES. THEY WILL KILL YOU WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT, JUST A WORD OF CAUTION. BEST YOU APPROACH THE CHR IN THE RP OK.

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ANYHOW, YOU STILL GOT ACCESS TO PASSPORTS? I MAY NEED ONE DONE, OK. THANKS. BUT CAN YOUR MAN MAKE ME A PASSPORT EVEN OUT OF THE COUNTRY? I CAN SEND MY PASSPORT PICTURE, SIGNATURE VIA EMAIL. I ONLY NEED A STANDARD ONE - BUT NO APPEARANCE OBVIOUSLY OK. OR CAN WE USE OUR CONTACTS TO COVERTLY HELP ME ENTER THE RP UNDETECTED?” I can get the passport. I can also get you in undetected - no paper trail. Ok, will let you know. Just out of caution, be careful with Benny. We have been monitoring him. He has bad plans for you guys. JUST DO NOT TRUST HIM. I know we may have our differences, but I have always been honest and true to you. Benny is a bad seed. He works with the worst there. Just stay clear and tell Charlie be cautious, ok. I know Charlie means well but Benny is up to something, very deadly. How much notice do you need in advance so I could go into RP undetected? It’s still the same price for the Passport, right? No personal appearance as I am out of the country.” Considering my contacts are around, I need a week’s notice to bring you into the country like a ghost. It’s still the same price for the passport. And you don’t have to show up. I only need your photos, name you want to use, D.O.B., and specimen of the signature you wish to appear on the passport. March 12, 2011 “Are you still interested in pursuing an Alien and Federal Tort Case against the US and the Arroyo administration? If so, have all your documents and such available and plan to meet up with an attorney that is to arrive in the Philippines this coming week. Can

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I give them your email, address, and cp number? You guys can meet up at Freddie’s club and talk there if you like, as they will be in that side of town.” March 13, 2011 Marlene, Hope you’re reading this. I need you to send me three sets of all the binding books I made you - along with three sets of Jason’s case file, DVD, etc. Can you send a book and address it to David? Please contact me should you need additional info. I will send you more info once we are done with everything so we can get action on our case. March 19, 2011 Marlene, If you cannot be at the meeting with the attorney, maybe it’s best you allow my contact to get all the items (binding books, evidence, DVD, etc. so it can be assured delivery to the attorney). You know my contact, he’s the guy that dropped and picked me up a few times from your house. You’ve met him personally. Either way, I forwarded your email to the attorney’s secretary. So she can email you and coordinate the schedule of your meeting. Due to the time limit and status of limitation, it is imperative we get all the items to the attorney ASAP. The news about Jsin is great, and only further supports my eyewitnesses’ accounts and events; as well as our well-founded knowledge all along that it was PGMA that framed all of us. Contact me here. I am limited on load and if you can make me a copy of all your media coverage on DVD for my personal keeping. Warm regards, April 6, 2011 Marlene,

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Well, that is bad news again for Jsin that his Judge won’t allow him his much-needed surgery. It’s shameful that the Philippine government officials are so corrupted and easily influenced by money, personal and professional favors. Don’t worry, once it gets down to it, alt this will be exposed - I assure you. My understanding is Atty Bitel makes monthly or quarterly trips to the Philippines. When he goes there next time, give him copies of your books, CD’s, and additional information helpful for our cases and cause. Stay in the media mainstream. STAY VOCAL! It would be hard to keep you quiet, when you are in the media and vocal. Ebarle and PGMA would be crazy to liquidate you while focus is on you and Jsin. Do you still have contact to extract people out of the Philippines? We may need this for one of our men inside. He may have to exit the country undetected. Please let me know so I can let our men know if this is possible. Will you be traveling outside of the Philippines anytime soon? If so, where? Maybe we can meet up. If someone can get Jsin out, let him. Work with Atty Edwin Lacierda, he’s close to Noy. But avoid contact with other PNOY men, as PNOY administration has fractions divided into the following: Pnoy-Mar/ Pnoy-Binay, Hyatt 10, PNoy/ etc. Some of Noy’s men are still loyal to CPGMA and her allies, so avoid them at all cost. Seek a Senatorial seat. Since the Filipino people saw how much you strived to fight for Jsin, then in their hearts they know you would do the same fighting for them. Thereafter, get all the support for 2016-2022 elections as President. Now that US President Obama has made his running for the 2012 election again, we can now hit him on the trail and hopefully he will listen and give aid to us to avoid a scandal and defeat in his

172 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS upcoming election. Be prepared as Sec. Hillary Clinton will stop or impede us for exposing her part and her husband’s support of PGMA and how she came into power. Send me copies of your TV interviews and such. April 7, 2011 Be weary of DOJ. Don’t trust de Lima. She straddles both sides of the fence. We can prove that SC Justices are being paid by PGMA, if Noy really wants to expose that. But Noy does a lot of talk, very little action. Limit the people you invite in your house and isolate them when they are there. They shouldn’t get a layout of your home. That would endanger your family. Plan on Jsin to be out by end of the year, if not in a few months. Meeting with Atty. Bitel today. Let’s see if he can put some pressure there - don’t know his full legal agenda except that he has already talked with top Philippine officials and representatives. Kind regards” April 10, 2011 We need to get one of our men out of the country, undetected and quietly. What will it take to get this done, as you said you have your sources. Get back asap on this please. April 10, 2011 6:17 AM “Read this crap, what a joke! US know exactly whose behind the murders, set-ups, etc.

‘US State Department blames killings in Philippines on security forces. by Jose Katigbak STAR Washington Bureau (The Philippine Star) Updated April 10, 2011 12:00 AM

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WASHINGTON - As many soldiers and police were killed last year in the Philippines as communist rebels and Muslim insurgents, the US State Department said. In its 2010 Human Rights report on the Philippines released on Friday, the State Department blamed security forces and anti- government guerrillas for a spate of arbitrary and unlawful killings during the year. Quoting military sources, it said 176 members of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) were killed in fighting with rebel and terrorist groups during the year, 166 by the New People’s Army (NPA) and 10 by Abu Sayyaf rebels in Mindanao. In the same period, soldiers killed 131 insurgents – 97 suspected NPA members, 23 Abu Sayyaf members, and 11 Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) members. Insurgents killed 11 police officers during the year, and the Philippine National Police (PNP) claimed 44 NPA insurgents were killed in police operations around the country. Arbitrary and unexplained killings by elements of the security services and political killings, including killings of journalists, by a variety of state and non-state actors continued to be serious problems, the report said. In addition to killing soldiers and police officers in armed encounters, rogue elements of the separatist MILF and terrorist Abu Sayyaf Group (ASG), Jemaah Islamiya, and NPA – the military wing of the Communist Party – killed local government officials and other civilians. These same groups also were linked to bombings that caused civilian casualties and kidnappings for ransom. The report said at least 23 people – including five businessmen, three soldiers, three farmers, three loggers, two teachers, and one militia member – were

174 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS reportedly abducted by ASG, NPA, and other kidnap-for-ransom groups in Compostela province, Basilan, Cotobato City, and the Zamboanga Peninsula during the year. Five were killed and 12 were either rescued or released; six remained missing or captive. During the year, the MILF, NPA and ASG targeted children for recruitment in combat or auxiliary roles. The State Department noted that last May the United Nations identified the ASG, NPA, and MILF as among the world’s”persistent violators of children in armed conflicts.” The report said at least 23 people – including five businessmen, three soldiers, three farmers, three loggers, two teachers, and one militia member – were reportedly abducted by ASG, NPA, and other kidnap-for-ransom groups in Compostela province, Basilan, Cotobato City, and the Zamboanga Peninsula during the year. The CHR suspected PNP and AFP personnel in some killings of leftist activists operating in rural areas. Suspects in other cases were ordinary citizens or remained unknown. The PNP’s Task Force Usig (TFU), responsible for monitoring unexplained killings, has recorded 161 cases of killings since 2001. The TFU, which uses different criteria than the CHR, identified nine new cases of unexplained killings during the year. The report said journalism continues to be a dangerous profession in the Philippines. In some situations it was difficult to discern if violence against journalists was carried out in retribution for their profession or if these journalists were the victims of random crime, the report added. The 2010 report is the 35th in a series to provide awareness of the human rights situation around the world. The data is provided

175 MARLENE AGUILAR to the US Congress for its funding and policy decisions. “Here at the State Department Human Rights is a priority 365 days a year,” said Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. ‘” Before I continue, I’d like to say this about Hillary Clinton. She said,”Here at the State Department, Human Rights is a priority 365 days a year.” Really? She must have a different meaning to ‘priority’. April 10, 2011 “Is it ok if we give your info to a contact who is interested in the passports, and all this? This would be their interest, not mine. But he’s in our team - is it guaranteed and no worries in extracting them?” “What crime did he commit? Yes, you may tell the person to reach me. He has to say ‘Miss California’ sent her, so I know it’s him. Ha ha!” April 11, 2011 “Ha ha! Ok Bitch. Just to let you know he’s a Priest. It’s for one of our men there, who I never meet. I’ll give them your contact info to him. How is Jsin now? Better? Did you get through Noy?” April 19, 2011 “The young nation calls Noynoy, the President Abnoynoy. In Tagalog, abnoy means retard. There are times they say, Noynoy abnoy but now Abnoy has become more popular. They refer to him as the baklang panot na abnoy, gay bald retard. This was posted on Jsin’s fan page as headline by one of the admins: “SINO SI ABNOYNOY? SAGOT BILIS!!! - admin 5” In English it means,”Who is Abnoynoy?” Here are some responses to this post. Their FB names go before their comments, and some English translations follow.

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Jason Ivler’s admin-”...stupid president...the bald retard...admin” Hart Co –”Noynoy?” Dhada Lhabxueh –”PRESIDENT! AHAHAHA! ABNOY ALL THE TIME! HAHAHA!” Gee-ayy Alamat-”Yung presindente nting Mama’s boy :)” (The president who’s a Mama’s boy.) Nestle Pascual –”pamangkin ng pangulo ! tama ba?” (The nephew of the president. Am I right?) Mc Suan –”President abnormal! Hahahah” Jardine Kalaw –”yung panot na wlang ginawa kndi bumili ng mamahaling sasakyan,” (The bald man who does nothing but buy expensive cars.) Mj Flores -”yung panot na walang gf na utusan nung mga kamaganak niya na mahilig bumili ng mga kotse, mahilig bumaril at mahilig din sa kulay dilaw.”(The bald man without a girlfriend, the servant of his family who likes to buy cars, shoots guns and prefers the color yellow.) Bryan Gomez –”oo ! yung special child! si Kris!!! :D”(The special child of Kris.) Aaron Concepcion -”SI JOSH YUNG ANAK NI KRIS.” (Josh, the son of Kris. Kris Aquino is the sister of the president.) GoDdesz Aszhley -”abnoynoy ang taong mahilig tumnga nang naglalaway at ngiting ASO AHAHAAH” (Abnoynoy the person who likes to gape while drooling and smiling like a dog.” Rubely Vergara –”god bless u admin” Lyn Vhentnhiiecinco –”Si Abnpy ay NAPAKA WALANG KWENTANG Presidente..” (Abnoy is the worthless president.) George Rivera –”the president- true criminal of the Philippines. Rea Gomez –”eh di si Noy noy Aquino retarted...... hahahahahaha .. fuck you noy”

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Jasmine Sarip – lol” After reading the above, Miss California responded: “What you mean the young nation calls Noynoy-Abnoy? We call him that too!” April 27, 2011 “Can you get a few id’s done for me cheap and get it sent to me asap, i.e. driver’s license, voter’s registration etc. All legal of course. STAY OUT OF JAIL—LOL!” “If you can pay, all is possible. BTW – JSIN’S FAN PAGE GETS OVER 3 MILLION POST VIEWS INTERACTION IN 1 WEEK!” “That’s great!” Here is an email I sent Miss California during the first quarter of this year, 2012. This was because we had an altercation through text messages while she was allegedly in Australia. In addition, she told me that my team leader sold me out. “My partner of 14 years, Stephen Pollard has traveled to over 100 countries. His first job at age 21 brought him to work in Africa for a project funded by the World Bank. Since then, he has worked with the VIPs of international organizations such as the IMF, the UN and the WB. Eventually, he became the principal economist for the Asian Development Bank. Currently, they call him the guru of the South Pacific. Moreover, many of his colleagues consider him to possess one of the best minds in development banking. He has worked as an economist in 36 countries with some of the best minds in the world, including a dozen leaders of states, many of whom he calls by their first name. Yet, during an interview with Cheche Lazaro of Channel 2’s PROBE TEAM, Stephen Pollard said,”I have never met anyone in my life who could equal the mind and abilities of Marlene.” Let’s talk about Gabriel, who I admire in mind and spirit. He is

178 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS an icon of courage amongst the members of the US SF, a member of the brotherhood of men who rule DC. He said to me,”Marlene, for someone who hates politics, you could become the most dangerous politician in the Philippines, with one exception – I believe you will do the right thing for your country and your people.” Let’s go to Caesar, who is one of the most intelligent men I know. And the brightest US military man I have ever met. He said to me,”I have no doubt all your enemies will fall. I do not doubt your abilities at all. Hell, I wouldn’t want to stand in your way.” None of these men mentioned above have ever questioned my honor or my abilities. Now let us look at you. You are the dumbest of the dumb, and the lowest of the low. You are ugly inside and out. You have nothing to offer the earth but your carcass that will become food for maggots when you’re dead. And yet, not only do you question my integrity; you also have the gumption to question my decisions. And you question the honor of my assets. These people unlike you have no greed, these people unlike you, do not fear death, and these people unlike you have risked their lives for me, over and over again. So, I suggest you stay the fuck away from the Philippines. If I ever find you in my terrain, I will have you for breakfast, only because I strongly believe that fat, dumb-ass bitches like you should be chopped into a thousand pieces and offered to the earth as fertilizer! You are what they call a loud and ugly American. You are nothing!” June 29, 2012 “I’m in the Caribbean, and I’ve calmed down. I’m in the island of Grand Turk, Turks and Caicos, a British colony. I met the governor a few days ago, and I found him cool, which means not only is he intelligent, he’s able to think outside of the box.

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BTW, you were right about my team leader, so I’m not going to kill you after all. LOL! The SOB betrayed me. But hey, I can’t really blame him for choosing the CIA over me. Anyway, I can’t be angry at him because he’s fucking dead. Regards” “Glad you are finally calm down. Couldn’t understand why you were getting mad at me for absolutely nothing, when I have been nothing but helpful and supportive of you and your cause. And thank you for acknowledging I was right, as I know that may have been difficult, but I have not lied to you, and I don’t intend to. There’s nothing to get out of lying. So your team leader is dead now? I doubt if he was with the CIA, but if that’s why he told you, so be it.” July 12, 2012 “If DOJ Sec de Lima has her way, she will be the next Supreme Court Chief. She has definitely abused her powers and authority in her current position. How’s Jsin? I hope he’s ok.” Yes, that I know. Are you still overseas, or at home now? “Well honey, we all know the bitch could be sent to oblivion if the gods so wished. I’m home now, and Jsin’s cool. Anyway, here below is my latest email to Gabriel. “I can’t’ believe they threatened Ivler that he would stay in jail if I don’t ‘obey’. Now my son just wants me to leave the country. Your brothers are idiots! I don’t obey! You can’t bend my will! No man has the power to change my fate. My destiny and I are one and the same. I will become leader of this country. I want to go into politics, not for anything else, but because I want to fulfill my fate! Why don’t they just quit wasting time and talk to me straight. If I find out

180 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS you’re part of all this, I’m going to beat the shit out of you in public! Ok, enough said.’” July 24, 2012 “Hey fat girl! I’m good now. I’m sorry I threatened to kill you. Ha ha!” “Not so fat, just healthy. Glad you got over it, as I’ve done nothing but support you and your cause. WW III is near.” What else is new? As far as I’m concerned I’ve been at war with the wankers for five years! “You have strong contacts with DFA, Bureau of Immigration and DOJ?” “I’ve spent two and a half million dollars in the last two and a half years buying these fucking vermin! Yes! I do!” “LOL! Shame on you. But that’s what they want, to see your wallet. They smelt it all the way while you were on the beach around the world. I may need some work done. Did you use your passport to see if it worked?” “A couple of people using the same passport are now in Europe. :D I mean my contact sold passports to two people and they are now in Europe under different identities.” “Yeah, yeah, but did they use their old ones?” “As far as passports go, anything is possible as long as the client can PAY! Jesus, for example, one of the passports in my possession has traveled from the Philippines to Europe and back. And I wasn’t the one using it that time. Hello! Where the fuck did they train you? I thought they knew this, about me, which is why they had me interrogated in Hong Kong, thinking I switched passports. If I wanted to disappear, they couldn’t find me. There are many exits

181 MARLENE AGUILAR out of here.” I mentioned my team leader in one of my emails to Miss C. Later on I will discuss how in the past two years, my allies were framed, kidnapped, and ambushed by my enemies within the Philippine government. In my desire to protect them, I sought the help of a man I will call Hennessey. He grew in the streets, poor as a rat. Yet, he sent himself through school. Later, he became an asset for the CIA. He also became a top- ranking official for the Philippine military making him a valuable assassin for those who want to exterminate certain members of the government. I think armed with proper training the best mercenaries are those who grew up in the streets. Take the right specimen from the wild and train him in the box. Then you’ve got yourself a good hit man. I’m not going to say much about Hennessey. Maybe, I’ll discuss him in more details in another book. I saved his life a few times. In addition, I saved his wife and three children when they were abducted. Still, he betrayed me. I believe the CIA used him to sabotage my plans. The agency fucked with his head so much, he lost control. Things got complicated and out of hand. Later, he abducted two of my allies who were both government officials. During this time, I received a phone call from a man in the US who I believe is one of the commandos working for a faction within the US government. He spoke to me for over two hours on the phone telling me he wanted to come to the Philippines immediately because he wanted to kill his enemies who are local politicians. He discussed with me the problems of the Philippines and its corrupt government. He mentioned that he believed the US wanted to keep Jsin in jail, because his freedom needed timing. He also told me he wanted to

182 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS work with me because he believed in my cause. Later, I found out that he was coming to protect me from Hennessey. Why? Because my own team leader had marked me to be his next hit, thanks to the CIA. However, before the commando arrived, I heard news Hennessey was killed. Remember what the oracles told me over and over through the years: “Every man who stands in my path shall perish. Because heaven shall pluck them out of my way.” I would like to end this chapter with a narrative Steve wrote in 2010 while the media and the public persecuted me. He stated: “When I think of Marlene Aguilar, I think of Mahatma Ghandi and his struggle for justice for his people in South Africa and then home in India. I think of his cause. For his people, he was not afraid to be beaten. He was not afraid to go to jail.” “Sometimes, in some times, there is a need for someone with great courage, with the courage to fight for his or her convictions, for that person to stand up, to take a stand and to be prepared to face the injustices of the system.” “There is no justice in the ‘justice system’ of the Philippines. There is no good in government. There is no public service by politicians. Self and greed drive the system. Someone has to take the stand. That person is Marlene Aguilar.” It’s true, there is Ghandi in me, but don’t you ever forget… There is also Stalin.

183 Chapter 4

Grand Turk

June 10, 2012, I sit on the terrace of an apartment in the Caribbean facing the Atlantic Ocean. It is 10 in the morning. The sight of the immense clear water in front of me in varying shades of deep blue and turquoise, plus the sound of the soft waves swaying in and out of the shore covered with fine white sand, overwhelms my senses with joy. The sky is powder blue with white cotton clouds scattered all over, moving tenderly with the wind. In the distance, the blue heavens kiss the ocean’s entire horizon, a divine union they have sworn to keep since time began. I feel happiness I have not felt in many years. I don’t remember feeling this way since Caesar walked into my life in July 2007, when the US government began their heavy surveillance of me, forcing me to retaliate. And so, Warriors of Heaven was born. How my life has changed since. How I’ve cried an ocean of tears since. I am staying in a residence that is exquisite with spacious living and dining rooms, two bedrooms, and two full baths. The large master bedroom spans an area of over 80 square meters that opens onto alfresco terraces found at each end of the room; one facing a

184 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS majestic Atlantic, while the other end yielded a unique view of salt pans located at the rear of the house. The full kitchen is equipped with a four burner electric stove, an oven, a large microwave and dishwasher, and all the kitchen utensils and dinnerware I would need to feed Maya, Steve and myself efficiently. Steve rented this fully furnished place for several months because of his work here. There are two other flats to my right, situated along the beach facing the Caribbean Sea. I was told the apartment next door to ours is almost always vacant since the tenant who lives there flies to the island of Providenciales frequently. The end unit is where the Director for Strategy, Philip Rushbrook resides. He is a British public servant working for the Governor of the islands of Turks and Caicos. I haven’t seen this man, or heard his voice since I arrived, which makes him a perfect neighbor for me. The next house to my left, which is enclosed by a white picket fence is approximately 100 meters away. And I haven’t seen anyone there either. From a distance, to my right, the beach curves to the left. And there I see a few houses, scattered far apart. There is no one here, no sight of any human being whatsoever as far as my eyes can see. What a great gift from heaven to have such privacy. Suddenly, I see a single white boat to my right with a black top, carrying five passengers. I notice a red flag swaying in the air in its front and on its left side. My Jewish parents Barbara and Bill had the same pontoon, which they kept parked on the ocean, close to their beach home in Stamford, Connecticut. Steve is in the house helping Maya with his iMac. She asked her father for permission to play Farmville. Maya and I arrived in the beautiful island of Grand Turk, the capital of the Turks and Caicos Islands five days ago, after spending two nights at a condo hotel in Providenciales where we landed from

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London. Before I left the Philippines I sent Caesar a messages saying, “I’m going to the Turks and Caicos Islands, a place unknown to most people where no one will recognize me. What a gift that will be.” He answered, “That’s not going to happen.” Steve was at the airport waiting for Maya and me when we landed in Providenciales, known as Provo. As he was loading the suitcases in the trunk of his rental car, another car stopped before me. The male driver wearing dark sunglasses and a white shirt, who looked Filipino to me, rolled his window down, waved at me and gave me the biggest smile. “Miss Marlene!” he yelled. “Welcome to Turks and Caicos!” “Thank you!” I yelled back smiling and waving. “Who is that man?” Steve asked. “I don’t know,” I answered. The day we left Provo, we had lunch at a Japanese restaurant called Yoshi, which is the only place in the island we found that offered excellent food. The cheerful food attendant who took care of us was Filipina. However, to me, she looked Samoan, because of her deep, beautiful dark bronze skin and big physique. After our meal, she asked politely if she could have her photograph taken with me. I am very proud to say that most Filipinos are so respectful, especially those who were born in the countryside like me. I agreed to her request, of course. “Miss Marlene, the chef wants his photo taken with you, too. Our chef here is Filipino,” she stated smiling after our pictorial. So, the man who was in his early 30s came out, jubilant to meet me. He shook my hand and after asking me a couple of questions regarding my brother Freddie and my son Jason, we had our picture taken. I don’t really care so much for Providenciales. Too many tourists have invaded it. It looks like the US to me. From my own standpoint,

186 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the island’s sole existence is commercial tourism, which sadly negated the native peoples’ art and culture. While I was there, going to and then traveling back from Grand Turk, I didn’t see one piece of artwork made by a local artist in any restaurant or hotel I visited. Going back to Grand Turk, they say Christopher Columbus was here in 1492 during his voyage to the New World. In February 1962, John Glenn became the first American to circumnavigate the earth. His space capsule landed on the shores of Grand Turk, after which he was brought to the island for de-briefing and medical examination. The Turks and Caicos Islands are currently a British Colony consisting of two groups of tropical landmasses, with a total population of only 31,000. The bigger section to the west is the Caicos Isles, which includes East Caicos, West Caicos, North, Middle and South Caicos and Providenciales. The latter is the most famous tourist destination in the country. The Turks Isles, which are located in the east, consists of Grand Turk and Salt Cay. Since 1766, Grand Turk has been the country’s seat of government. It is located 647 miles Southeast of Miami, Florida covering an area of seven square miles, and has a population of approximately 4,000. They say that Bermudan salt rakers founded this landmass around three hundred years ago. The island scenery includes vegetation of scrub and cactus. In the old days, cattle, donkeys and horses were the means of transportation, and today you will still see these animals roaming freely on the side of roads. In addition, you will also find historical colonial British Bermudan architecture and ruins in Grand Turk, some of which were built close to the sea. What amazes me is during the last few days I’ve been here, I’ve seen so many kinds of birds including egrets, seagulls, pelicans, tri-colored heron, least grebes, osprey, Cuban crow, white-tailed

187 MARLENE AGUILAR tropicbird, laughing gulls and believe it or not, great pink flamingos. How Paulie would have loved to see these flamboyant and pink winged creatures. Maya and I also saw some yellow-crowned night herons, which we call the funky birds because of their jazzy appearance. Don’t be so impressed with my ability to name these flying animals. I bought a book on animals from the National Museum in Grand Turk. Maya carries the book in the car now as a reference, so she may be able to identify the birds in this beautiful island. Apparently, outside of diving fanatics, these islands have attracted serious bird enthusiasts because in 1992, the government put up 33 sheltered Nature Reserves, Sanctuaries and National parks. Nowadays, more than 195 species of birds roam these atolls migrating through the Bahamas chain between North and South America. The humpback whales also travel the shores of this Caribbean islet, which you could watch during a season from November to March. Grand Turk has a pier that welcomes cruise ships, including Queen Mary 2. Here is information I found in cyberspace regarding this massive shipping vessel: “Launched in 2004, the Queen Mary 2 was the first transatlantic ocean liner constructed since the Queen Elizabeth in 1969. It primarily plies a route between New York City and Southampton, United Kingdom, though occasionally travels to other ports. It is successor to the Queen Mary, now a hotel and museum berthed in Long Beach, California. The QM2 is registered in Great Britain and displaces 151,400 gross tons. It measures 1,132 feet long, 131 feet wide and has a draft of 32 feet. It accommodates up to 2,620 passengers and a crew of

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1,253, and has a speed of 28 knots. According to Cunard, the ship is 113 feet longer than the original Queen Mary, 147 longer than the Eiffel Tower is tall and only 117 feet shorter than the Empire State Building. Its whistle can be heard for about 10 miles. The smallest suites on board are the Britannia cabins, with 159 square feet, with the inside versions being the least-expensive choice on the ship. Among the amenities available in all the ship’s cabins are an interactive TV with film and music channels in different languages, direct-dial telephone and data port, refrigerator and safe, and sockets for both British and American appliances. The largest room is the Grand Duplex, sprawling over 2,249 square feet. It boasts complimentary in-room bar setup, butler service, personalized stationary, in-room Xbox, priority embarkation and disembarkation, evening canapes and a full flower arrangement.” Here’s my personal opinion on the QM2. Despite my several personalities, none of us would ever want to travel the world in a ship like that. I don’t find sharing space of approximately 150,000 square feet with almost four thousand people appealing. “The smallest suites on board are the Britannia cabins, with 159 square feet…” That’s only about 16 square meters, the size of a bathroom. I can’t imagine traveling the world with thousands of strangers on board, sleeping inside a cell the size of a closet. That would make me go nuts. I love privacy. And again, I loathe to be surrounded by tourists. For me, that is not what I would call a vacation, but a prison sentence! Plus, I don’t have to go on a cruise to get a ‘full flower arrangement’. I have my own supply at home! June 12, 2012 is Independence Day in the Philippines. I wonder how many Filipinos realize we have never been independent, not with the CIA choosing our leaders. I had gone back to Chapter 1 yesterday and did some edits on

189 MARLENE AGUILAR the narrative where I talk about my baby dragon Marco Fortuny. Later in the day, I posted this message on my FB wall, copied to him. “To my soul son Marco Fortuny, just so you know, today as I faced the magnificent Caribbean Sea writing my next novel, I wrote about you and the time we spent together. XOXO and love always.” He wrote me back and said: “Mommy, thank you. I don’t know how to react. Even my real Mom is not as sweet as that toward me. Thank you Mommy. I really love you. I know that many people think that family is family, and you have to love what you’re given, but I wasn’t given much in the way of blood relatives. The people who I call my family are the people who love me and have been there for me. I don’t believe that we have to just deal with the cards we are given. We can make our own family through the people who feel we are worth loving. These are the people who give us time and attention like MOMMY MARLENE. When I first saw her crying on national television fighting for her son, I felt envious toward Jsin, because I don’t have a mother like he has, a mother that is willing to fight for him until the end. Now I envy Jsin no more, for we share the same Mom now. He he he. :) I thank God for giving his Mom the biggest and most unselfish heart of all. To me, there’s nothing wrong with loving someone else’s Mom, and wanting her to be my mother. Mommy Marlene is the one who treats me with love and respect. Thank you so much po Mommy for loving us all!! I love you!” By the way, the word ‘po’ is a word of respect in Tagalog. Here was my response to Marco’s declaration. “I have been staying in a house so close to the ocean on an isolated beach, away from the petty existence of mankind. Finally, this morning, I woke up without pain in my heart. I have been

190 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS harboring immense grief since the day the NBI men tortured Jsin in front of me on January 18, 2010. I have woken up with a grieving heart everyday since. Also, for the first time in five years since the day the US government continued their surveillance on me, I woke up HAPPY. I feel this island has revived me and given me new life. I came down from the bedroom this morning after dawn, went downstairs and opened the door leading to the terrace. I sat on a wooden rocking chair smiling, looking at the magnificent crystal clear blue waters before me, grateful to heaven for allowing me peace in paradise. After a few minutes of contemplating, I entered the house and found my iMac on the dining table. I turned on FB and there I saw your beautiful and touching message, so overwhelming and soulful it put me to tears. And now, because of you, I am even happier. Thank you. They say bonding of the blood is strongest. That’s true. However, bonding of the soul goes beyond strongest because this cosmic union is eternal. It is forever. I love you always.” I woke up this morning with joy I haven’t felt since 2007, when Caesar walked into my life. That was also the year when the CIA’s surveillance reached a level I couldn’t ignore or tolerate. When I opened my eyes at around six, I felt light. My spirit floated in the room, jubilant. I felt no pain or sorrow. There was peace within and without me, at last. I lay in bed thinking of the past, my mind shifting back and forth to the days that had come and gone, the events of my life flashing in my head with images just as those in the movies. There are two very distinct and opposite personalities inside me. One I call Maya. And she is powered by infinite lightness, good, love and life. The other is Medea, her counterpart, Lucifer herself. And she is driven by blackness, evil, hatred and death. They say

191 MARLENE AGUILAR that children who come from violent homes have split personalities. I believe that extreme situations in childhood force the psyche to react protecting the person. The mind has complex abilities of survival, which is why my psyche split into several personalities. Because of my abusive father, and my vicious life at home, my Medea was forced to rule when I was a child. She was needed to fight my father efficiently, protecting the rest of my personas. Therefore, from the age of three, my poor father faced Medea’s wrath. She had two distinct ways of handling my Papang’s abuse. One way was to scream horrible words at my father while he beat me, driving him madder. Oh, Medea could shriek louder than any person, and each time she drove my father to the brink of insanity. However, the other way she dealt with him was the exact opposite. I prefer the latter. That was when she gave him silence. She gave him absolute silence. Those were the times when I used to stare at the old man quietly while he battered me. When I acted in this manner toward my father’s insane behavior, I drove him further beyond the edge. This is why I could push all my lovers to the unknown, again and again. I had plenty of practice with my father at a very young age. On the surface, I showed my father no fear, not one drop of a tear. I just stared at him with Medea’s raging eyes, so filled with utter fury, defiance and hatred. Each time we fought in this manner, her looks cut through his heart, like a sharp blade forged to kill. “Stop looking at me with those eyes! You, child from hell! Born with lightning! You came into this world with a curse! That’s what you are, a curse! I swear the devil himself sent you to punish me!” I’d hear Papang yelling, his voice deafening to my little ears. “Stop looking at me with those eyes!!!” He would scream again, and again he would hit me. Still, I was unmoved. Stoic. Catatonic.

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And in silence, I continued to gaze at him viciously, forcing him to run out of the house on certain occasions. Even as a child, I could smell my father from within. And I knew then that Medea intimidated him. I have had this gift from birth; the vile person inside me is like some unseen power I have over other humans. To this day, I can intimidate men by my sheer presence. After my father died, Medea sought a replacement. She found Marcus. So she continued her life of darkness and violence with the European beast, feeding on his world of deception and death. Every night after the raid on my home in January 2010, Medea went to bed cursing all my detractors, condemning them to suffering and death. “Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die. Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die. Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die…” She chanted repeatedly every night, until she fell asleep. This morning, I felt Medea inside me. I have never known her to be satiated. She is different now. She has grown. I ran to the Philippines for safety in the beginning of the 1990s, after Marcus fell. It was then I decided to live a completely different lifestyle to camouflage my old life. It was also during this time I put Medea away into a dark compartment. As I mentioned earlier, I tucked her away inside a coffin. After all, she wasn’t required where I was going. She was certainly not needed in the art community where I worked as a publisher and writer for many years, defending Philippine art and culture. Since that time, I rarely allowed her the freedom to express herself. Over the years, I would only let Medea out during the times I had to cast death spells on the maggots that

193 MARLENE AGUILAR crossed my path. How many has she killed using black voodoo? I don’t know. I don’t count. Plus, she doesn’t care. In 2007, the US government came back into my life with such intensity, threatening those I love, as well as myself. More than that, my engagement with Gabriel and his brethren pushed me into the abyss, forcing Medea to leap out into the open. It was she who engaged with the devil on earth. And it was she that powered the book Warriors of Heaven. It was she who waged war against the governments of the Philippines and the US. Medea is the bringer of death. She exists in a world of infinite blackness. And she has no guilt. Hungry for blood Medea knows no surrender. She thrives on death and destruction. Once freed, I couldn’t do much to stop her from satiating her lust. She was locked away for too long. Moreover, her actions caused all the tragedy surrounding my family and myself following Warriors of Heaven. You should know this about me, whatever happens in my life, I blame no one. I take full responsibility for all the events in my life. Where there is action, there is reaction. I wrote Warriors of Heaven to expose the evil existence between RP and US governments. As Patrick said, “I can’t expect to live a quiet life after that.” I paid a great price for speaking out and standing up against the evil system that rules the world. We all pay a price for our actions, no matter what we do in life. But most of you are afraid to live your lives to the fullest. I’m sure you don’t want to. You don’t know freedom the way I do. Still, like me, you pay a price for the life you have chosen. All the same, I wouldn’t have it any other way. For me, the only way to live this life is with absolute freedom. I believe the ultimate challenge in this particular matrix is confrontation of fears. Unless you conquer all your doubts then you will have failed in this life. If you fail you will be born again to face

194 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the same bullshit you are running away from in this existence. You will return to this world once again to suffer the same pain. On the other hand, ultimate freedom will cast you out of the never-ending process of reincarnation. Absolute liberty is the only key to Nirvana. So why did I wake happy this morning? I think it was necessary for me to leave the Philippines. I had to come to an isolated beach in Grand Turk so I could gain balance once more. Today I woke up with a fresh perspective on matters regarding my life, my past, present and future. I don’t believe I would have been able to achieve this state of clarity if I hadn’t left home. Therefore, as I lay quiet in bed this morning, contemplating, I realized that Medea, my beautiful devil inside me was finally satiated. She is full. She no longer hungers for blood. She now lays quiet and content within me, at least for now. Thank all the heavens. While defending Jason Ivler’s life, Medea had gone to battle, leading all of my personalities to war, war against the monstrous existence of the Philippine government. It is her actions and extreme defiance that led me to realize that the system in my country cannot be reformed. It is utterly hopeless. Later this morning Paulix Lendell posted a question on my FB wall. He asked, “Are sin taxes a problem in the Philippines?” I answered, “The problem with the Philippines is the government itself, which is filled with officials who rape the country and its people. These scums of the earth have repeatedly committed this crime all my life. I have never met a Filipino government official who is not corrupt. As far as I’m concerned the Philippines would be better off if God struck down every politician in the country and condemned them all to death. In addition, the problem of the Philippines is its people. For the

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most part, they are ignorant, dumb, greedy, afraid and lazy! On top of that, because the population en masse is so dumb, they have the gumption to breed like pigs! Therefore, we are over populated, thanks to the church and morons like Manny Pacquiao, who opposes the use of contraceptives. Sin taxes? That’s nothing! That isn’t the problem at all. “ While on the subject of population, I would like to state that the Philippines is only 115,830 square miles in size. In comparison, the USA has a land area covering 3,676,486 square miles. Yet, the population of the Philippines is around a hundred million against America’s estimated population of three hundred fourteen million. Thanks to the Catholic Church. This afternoon, Becca Padilla posted a graphic image of a poster on my FB wall from the University of the Philippines in Los Baños, Laguna, showing the image of the Philippine flag with the words, “NO REAL INDEPENDENCE WITHOUT REAL REVOLUTION!” On top of the image, Becca wrote, “She Dragon, let’s go!” I responded to Becca’s post saying, “This is what I’m talking about. You want to save the Philippines? KILL THE GOVERNMENT! REVOLUTION NOW!!!” In the meantime, I sent an email to Gabriel in response to an earlier message he sent me. I wrote: “But you like being abused.” He responded and said: “So that’s it...... weak...... ,but I do hope you and Maya are having a great time there. Have a girlie drink for me... enjoy yourself Master.” I wrote him back saying: “Dwarfy, you’re so stupid sometimes. The ability to enjoy abuse and experience it with joy is a pure sign of strength. And I don’t

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drink girlie drinks, silly. However, later at sunset, I will toast to thy name oh devil on earth.” June 13, 2012, I see a colored man on the beach in front of me wearing an oversized baby blue golf T-shirt with dark-blue stripes, jeans, white sneakers and a red baseball cap, carrying a rake and a round, black plastic bin. He is cleaning the beach of its dried seaweed and other natural debris that have been washed to the shore. When he was done, he walked toward me passing by my left side. He looked up to me with a smile. “Good morning,” I said. “Good morning,” he answered, and walked on. Yesterday afternoon, I was sweeping the terrace at around 3pm. Maya suddenly came running to me from inside the house. “Mom! Mom! Look! Look!” She yelled pointing toward the ocean. “There’s the cruise ship Dad told you about!” I picked up my head and gazed at the direction Maya pointed to. And there it was, a massive object so monstrous it killed the wonderful sight of the Caribbean Sea. “Oh my god! That’s ugly!” I reacted. “Why Mommy?” my nine-year-old daughter asked. “Because as far as I’m concerned that ship is filled with miserable people whose lives are so empty, they have to fill it up by cramming that horrible ship by the thousands. They come to this island for a few hours waddling around in the pier like sea whales taking pictures, buying a T-shirt here and there, so they could go home and brag to their friends they’d been to Grand Turk! Imagine all those people going around the Caribbean polluting the islands with their wrong existence. How can they possibly call that vacation? When you visit a country, you should learn about the people, and their art and culture. You don’t travel to shop for junk! That’s wrong! I spit on those people! And I curse that boat! Maybe that’s why the

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Titanic crashed into the ocean. Triton cursed it!” Steve came home later at around 5:30pm. We decided to go to the Sandbar for dinner instead of eating at home. We’d gone to the Sandbar a few times to drink and watch the beautiful sunset. However, this was only the second time we were going there to eat. We visit a resort called the Bohio as well, and the view of the ocean along with the sunset is just as splendid there. The Sandbar is located on Duke Street, which for Steve and me is the most charming road on all of Grand Turk because of its old homes and structures. The place reminds me of quaint little towns in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Sandbar is not big, and I appreciate that it isn’t. When you enter the place, you walk right into the open wooden deck that was built only a few meters from the ocean. You go through a narrow walkway, about four meters wide with long pine benches hugging the entire length of the railing to the right. At the other end of this path is a flight of steps that leads you to the beach. To the left is the bar where you will see eight tall chairs, a couple of which are in need of repair. At the end of this hall, to the left, you will find the main area of Sandbar’s terrace, including six tables where 24 people could dine and drink comfortably, all with a prime view of the Atlantic Ocean. Not far from this place is a grand house called Turks Head Mansion, which had been used as the setting to several motion pictures. The property is currently for sale by the Hollywood producer who owns it. Recently, we had Mark Day, a British commercial fisherman who’s an old friend of Steve’s join us for dinner at our place. He came with his Gilbertese wife Timake, pronounced as Simakee, and his 23-year-old daughter Nicola. Mark told me that according to

198 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the realty agent handling the sale of Turks Head Mansion, over USD 200,000 worth of lighting equipment is currently stored in the basement. I think of my younger son Colby who’s taking up cinematography in Nevada. How he would love to see this house. Steve and I are thinking of purchasing the property. So I asked him to make an appointment with the real estate broker, so we could tour the eight-bedroom home as soon as possible. I told you, I had decided to leave the Philippines. I am now considering moving to Grand Turk, far away from the over populated city of Manila. That is, if those hunting me would permit it. Going back to Sandbar, as soon as we arrived, Maya ran down the short flight of stairs at the end of the alley. “French fries for me, please. And bottled water to drink,” she uttered before she disappeared. Every time we go to the Sandbar or the Bohio, my daughter does the same thing. She runs barefoot to the beach, the child of nature that she is. A petite colored girl in her 20s from Haiti, named Gaylene greeted us as we sat at a four-seater wooden table with our backs to the ocean. This is because on this particular evening, they had arranged for some live performers to sing. So we faced an impromptu small stage instead. Normally, we prefer to sit in a more private area, a table perched at the end of the walkway, under a large pine tree where I would sit on the bench facing the sunset and the ocean. Steve ordered a large plate of Greek salad with iceberg lettuce, onions, tomatoes, red cabbage, cucumber, green pepper, black olives, feta cheese and grilled chicken, which we decided to share. On top of that, he ordered beer for himself and a glass of chilled chardonnay for me. Actually, the reason why we decided to return to eat here for the second time is because I thought the food was decent, and the ingredients are fresh. In my own personal opinion, the food here is

199 MARLENE AGUILAR much better than the tasteless hamburger I had at the Bohio, which I will never order again. When the food was served, I got up and walked toward the front of the terrace, rested my tummy against the wooden railing and waved at Maya to come back. “Dinner Maya!” I yelled. She looked up at me, and nodded her head. She heeded my calling immediately and started walking in my direction. When she landed on the deck, she pointed to the ocean and said, “Mommy look, the cruise ship.” I turned to the right, and there it was, the same tourist vessel we saw earlier in front of our apartment. Steve turned to see the massive boat as well. “Don’t worry, it’s leaving,” he uttered. “Thank god,” I said. In the meantime, my mind drifted back to the past. While writing Bringer of Death, I wanted to tell you about some of the incidences that happened in my life during the last two and a half years, after that shoot-out in my home where Jason and I engaged a hundred heavily armed men whom I believe were sent by Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to kill us. For a long time now, I’ve been thinking of ways how I could tell you about the earlier events that took place, but it’s like choosing parts of a great puzzle. There are only certain portions I could share with you, but which ones? How can I tell you an unbelievable story, and at the same time protect some of the characters involved? How do I do that? People have died protecting Jason and me over the past year. My allies, as Becca mentioned in my last book, have been ambushed, kidnapped and killed. Again, the most intriguing part of my past I could never tell you, because to do so would incriminate people I loved and care about. Most of all it would implicate me. I will attempt to recall the past by going back in time to the summer of 2010. Jason was in the crowded Quezon City jail at the time. This facility supposedly had a regulated capacity of 800 men,

200 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS yet while my son was there, the place contained 3000 inmates, the majority of whom came from very poor backgrounds. Ivler was held on the third floor of the establishment, in a separate area where all the foreign citizens are detained. Jason shared one room with 17 other expatriates, most of whom came from Mainland China, members of the Triad who were busted for drug-related activities. One tall man came from Hong Kong, and another was a Brit named Steve. All these men shared the salaries of two Filipino inmates to clean the room, cook for them, launder their clothing and do other errands. These Filipino caretakers are called ‘strikers.’ One man named Lucio was assigned to be Jason’s personal striker. He attended to my son’s personal needs and made sure that Ivler got fresh food everyday. Fortunately, he is a good cook. I realize my son was fond of this man, because he had asked me once to consider hiring him as my driver when he got out. QC jail was not at all what I expected it to be. I normally visited Ivler in the afternoons, after lunch. After passing through a series of guards at the entrance, I climbed a maze of stairs, which brought me to the third level of the building where they had an open space, and where you could see the open sky. Each time I came, the inmates who were all awaiting trial, would wave smiling at me. “Mommy! Mommy!” They would yell. In those days, I’d find detainees by the hundreds gathered outside of Jason’s room. To walk through them was like going into a very crowded club at its prime time on a Friday evening, where you have to push yourself through the mass of people. In this facility, an inmate would normally walk ahead of me as I walk through a narrow path leading to the open area that would take me to Ivler’s cell. His job was to clear the path for me, yelling to everyone ahead of me to make way.

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The first time I visited Jsin, this is what I saw. To my right, at the end of the walkway, which was over-crowded with inmates, I saw a group of men encircling two others sitting on small wooden stools, playing a game of chess. A group of 20 men sang out loud while one played the guitar. There was also a man sitting on a plastic stool while another inmate, a homosexual wearing tight pink shorts, did his pedicure. Beside them was a man getting his haircut, while a woman in her 30s wearing a red blouse hugged an inmate as she held on to his little daughter with her left hand. At the same time, a grandmother embraced a detainee in tears, her back to a group of five men arguing and yelling at each other, one pointing to the heavens with his right hand swearing to tell the truth while he pressed his left hand over his heart. I noticed a group of girls in their late 20s holding one another’s hand forming a line as they powered through the crowd. Directly ahead of me there was another group of men huddled in front of an outdoor stove cooking something. I could see the steam smoking out of a huge caldron. Meanwhile, others around them prepared fish, vegetables and other ingredients for their next meal. They made all sorts of clatter that assaulted all the other sounds that came from everywhere. Many more jailbirds just walked around smoking cigarettes, chatting, some holding hands, and some with arms around each other. All in all, the place looked like they were having a fiesta in the ghetto. During visiting hours on weekdays, this was a normal scene at Quezon City jail. On Sundays, and on special occasions when one gang was celebrating its anniversary or someone was having a birthday, you might see men grilling a whole pig or cow in the open fire. During these visits, it wasn’t unusual for the visitors to come up to me smiling, and say. “Mommy! Mommy! Say hi to idol for me!” On the surface, QC jail didn’t seem like prison to me at all.

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In June 2010, during one of my visits to see Jsin, I met a new character in my life. One day, as I entered Ivler’s domain, I saw a female in her late 20s talking to Steve, the British inmate. She was around 5 feet tall, round face, brown eyes, and straight brown hair with bangs hanging down to her shoulders. She spoke Tagalog as if she had grown up in the streets. Steve and her sat across each other almost face-to-face. I would like to remind you that the room where the foreign nationals were detained was shared by 17 inmates making it difficult to have any privacy when talking to anyone. So, when details of legal cases were discussed, you would see inmates and their visitors whispering to each other so others could not hear what was being conferred. Apparently, her job was to find loopholes in the legal system so Steve could get out of jail sooner than later. He was there for a criminal case involving illegal recruitment of an overseas Filipino worker. I would like to add this girl did get Steve out a year later. During my conversation with my son that day, I studied the young woman. In my mind, I thought, what a hard life she lived. She’d been beaten by life so terribly, over and over again. But like me, she was born to fight. This one is not afraid at all. And she will do what it takes to get the job done. She will do what it takes to survive. I watched her at the side of my eyes, while I talked with my son that day. For some strange reason, I was drawn to her. I didn’t know then that several months later, she would put her very own life on the line for my son and me. Ivler gave this girl the name Trax, so that’s what I will call her in this book. She works as a staff of the Philippine National Police. I had seen her visit Steve in jail twice more after the first time I saw her. One day Jsin told me of something Trax did in defense of Steve, which we both found impressive. It was after this conversation with

203 MARLENE AGUILAR my son, I decided to talk to Trax. The next time I saw her I told her I wanted to discuss with her my son’s case, and that I was bringing her to my home so we could discuss the matter further in private. So later, Trax and I sat inside my white van talking. “Anything is possible within the legal system right?” I asked her. “Yes, as long as you can pay. Everyone can be bought,” she told me. “You grew up poor and you were beaten as a child. You came from a violent home.” I added. “Yes, I was my father’s punching bag,” she answered laughing. “You are not afraid to kill, and you are not afraid to die,” I stated. “No, I’m not,” she responded. “Good,” I said. “Then we are two of a kind. You work for me now.” It was that fateful day when my inexplicable and amazing friendship with this girl began. Since Jason was locked up in March 2010, I have fought for his human rights so he would be granted the surgery to restore his intestines back to normal. As soon as he was incarcerated, his first judge removed himself from the case. His name was Alexander Balut. Judge Bayani Vargas from the Quezon City Hall of Justice, another wretched animal, replaced him. I don’t believe any person in the history of the modern world has rallied against any government as much as I have. I protested against the Philippine government in public, and marched seven kilometers from my home to the Quezon City Hail of Justice every day for 75 days straight. Plus, I protested against the US government in front of the US Embassy in Manila, because US Ambassador Harry Thomas, on behalf of the charlatan Obama, did nothing at all to protect the human rights of Jason Ivler, a US war veteran. All in all,

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I protested against these two vile governments 76 times!!! And still, the government of the day didn’t allow my son his civil and human rights to receive proper medical attention. Despite the fact that Jason’s intestines stuck out through his gut to the dirty, fetid open air, and despite the fact he suffered from infections, Judge Alexander Balut, just like his predecessor, Judge Bayani Vargas, also denied my son’s right to receive proper medical attention. “I don’t mind being in jail, Mom. I’m okay here. Just get me my surgery. I can’t go through life like this,” Ivler repeatedly told me when I visited him. Believe me, I did all I could to protect my son. Still, it took almost two very painful years before Jason Ivler received his much-needed surgery to restore his body. Through the help of Trax, I finally got justice for my son. In the process, I learned so much about the government officials running the system of this god-forsaken country. I will tell you about some of the events that occurred in the last two years in some form of chronological order. Midyear 2010, the first man who worked on Jason Ivler’s case was Fiscal Tolentino, a high-ranking officer from the Bureau of Immigration (BID). Allegedly, he contacted Judge Vargas saying that the “US Embassy had sent him to help Ivler get his medical operation,” so he told me. As well, he said that someone from the US government contacted him to get Ivler into the custody of immigration. Later, the official sent me word saying he had spoken to Vargas and that the judge demanded a pay-off, so he would issue the court order to send Ivler to the hospital. Such demands from government officials in the Philippines are not at all unusual. This is all part of the sick existence of the Philippine judicial system. Our government is infested with filth. Do I believe Judge Bayani

205 MARLENE AGUILAR extorted money from me? Absolutely. So, apparently if I paid him off through Fiscal Tolentino, I was told it would take two weeks for Vargas to issue the court order to send my son to the hospital. In the meantime, I cried myself to bed every night, worrying about Jason. Two weeks later, I received a phone call from Trax. She told me that she found out Tolentino didn’t pay Vargas the full sum of money to hospitalize Ivler, so the judge refused to sign the court order. This horrible news came to me like a dagger that cut through my gut. I couldn’t believe Tolentino stole the money for the judge. How could he do this? I asked myself when I had already paid him his fee to make sure the transaction was sealed. As I spoke to Trax, I walked to the altars where I keep the Buddhist images of saints, my protectors. There I went down on my knees, something I rarely do, and I burst into tears. In my head, I saw Medea floating amidst infinite blackness releasing her madness against Tolentino and all those he loved. “When I cry like this,” I said to Trax. “It means someone will die. Tolentino is good as dead. You mark my words! He is dead!” The same week, a speeding car hit Tolentino’s son, and he was badly injured. Also the same week, his wife had a heart attack. She died. Two weeks later, Tolentino was fired from his job at Bureau of Immigration. This was because a woman who he extorted money from created a scandal in his office. Later, she filed a legal case against him. A month later, and due to the fact he was out of a job and frustrated, Tolentino left the Philippines to join his daughter in Singapore, hoping he could get a job there. However, after a week of living in his daughter’s home, she also had a heart attack and died. According to Trax, she was only in her late 20s.

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After his daughter’s funeral, Tolentino returned to the Philippines. Months later, he had a heart attack which paralyzed half of his body sentencing him to a wheelchair. “Tita, Tolentino had a heart attack, but he didn’t die. Half of his body is paralyzed,” Trax said on the phone. “That’s because he has to suffer long and hard before he dies!” I answered. Several months later Tolentino also died. He is now in the after-life with his wife and daughter. Medea does not miss. Fiscal Perez of the Bureau of Immigration took over Jason Ivler’s case. Again, he extorted money from us. This would have been okay if he had honored the deal he was paid for, but like his predecessor, he didn’t keep his end of the bargain. “What time is Perez signing Ivler’s papers today?” I asked Trax on the phone. “3pm,” she replied. “Good. I will do my voodoo after that. That mother fucker is dead too!” Fiscal Perez did sign Ivler’s documents that afternoon around 3pm. That night, he came home and went to bed. He never woke up. He died in his sleep. Who was next? Attorney Aries Valera, a former legal representative of the BID extracted money from me as well. I can’t give you details regarding his transactions but, like the other two officials before him, he ran with the dough. This one left the city of Manila with my cash. He went to Palawan, an island in the south of the Philippines about an hour away by plane. “I will have his life in exchange for that money!” I told Trax on the phone when she told me what Valera did. “He can’t run from black magic. There is no space when it comes to voodoo.” A week later, Trax called me.

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“Valera is in the ICU. Your voodoo worked. He heard about what you did to Fiscal Tolentino and Perez. He called me to tell you he’s sorry, and that he will return all the money he stole from you, “ she stated. While Valera remained in the hospital, another man representing the government did a double deal against me. His name was Fiscal Zamora who worked as one of the high-ranking officials of the Department of Justice. He refused to sign documents for Ivler, which would have helped my son, unless I paid him. Actually, even a staff at Quezon City Hall of justice refused to fax paperwork that would have aided Ivler, unless he was paid. “Otherwise,” he said. “He would bury the document among the others, and it might take a month for him to find it.” Trax came to the house one evening to pick up the cash for the vermin Zamora. When Trax arrived at my home, she found me on the staircase fuming with anger, performing a ritual. She saw me holding a bundle of cash, slapping it into the mouth of a Buddhist celestial animal that came in the form of a half dragon and half horse. “Don’t you touch this money, you hear?” I told her with rage in my voice. “This money comes with death. Zamora is good as dead! Now, go and give it to him.” That evening, Zamora received the cursed parcel of cash. I believe that was on a Tuesday. He died the following Sunday. The cause of his death was cardiac arrest, just like the others. Valera remained in the ICU for another month. One afternoon, I called Trax. “Call Valera, and tell him I forgive him. He will get better from now on. Tell him, the doctors can’t help him in the hospital. There is no medical cure for his condition. He should just go home,” I told her.

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“I forgive him because my guardians told me that later he would do me a favor. Tell him he doesn’t have to pay me back. But I want him to do a good deed for those in need, especially the poor,” I added. A few days after Trax spoke to Valera, he did go home. He got better, and went back to work again. Christmas Eve, Trax went missing. She went to Quezon City Hall earlier during the day to do an errand for me. She was carrying cash. Two NBI agents abducted her, and they took her money. Later, they made up some false charges against her and detained her. This is not unusual. In the Philippines, these bastards are known to set up innocent people to extort money from them. Sadly, the Philippine National Police and BID officials do the same. It has always been agreed between Trax and me that no matter what happens, I would not come out in the open. That would endanger me. No matter what happens, she has to work it out on her own. We had agreed that she would take the fall. In exchange, I would do all I could to save her, but I would never come out in the open. So, while detained by the NBI agents, she called Valera to help her. He came to her rescue at once and saved her. The man who replaced Perez was a government officer called Chief Sunio from immigration. He came into my life around October 2010. He worked for the Department of Justice (DOJ) before he was transferred to BID. Prior to Jason Ivler’s incident, the most controversial case in the Philippines was the Visconde massacre, involving Hubert Webb, the son of former Senator Freddie Webb. It took the Senator 15 years to prove his son’s innocence. The story I heard was that the politician stepped on the toes of some drug lords. Unknown to him these drug mongers were protected by the Chinese

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Triad and therefore, they are protected by some top government officials. I found out later that Chief Sunio stole some of the evidence that could have proven Hubert’s innocence. To make a long story short, Chief Sunio, as did his predecessors, also wronged me. Sunio told me that Judge Vargas continued to demand money. I believe both men worked together to force me into this situation. Meanwhile, I put the curse of death in the parcels of cash I sent Sunio. Suddenly, something very strange occurred. The mothers of Sunio and Vargas became ill, and were hospitalized during the same week I released the bundles of cash. One afternoon while both of their mothers were sick in the hospital, Chief Sunio and Judge Vargas had a meeting in QC Hall. Trax came with the Chief. At this point, I demanded her presence during such transactions. She sent me a message saying that the judge hadn’t arrived, and that he was already over an hour late. “Where is Vargas?” I asked her via text message. “He’s on the phone with Sunio now,” she said. “Apparently, he’s in the hospital with his mother.” “Tell Sunio, Vargas’ mother is dead,” I told Trax. Unknown to Trax, the Judge told the Chief his mother just passed away. “How did you know Vargas’ mother was dead?” Trax asked me later. “Because, before she died, I felt her heart failing. I felt her death. Vargas’ wife will die, too. Every night I go into trance. I send my black snake to Vargas’ house. And there my snake of death strangles his wife hanging her through the ceiling. She’s as good as dead. Vargas will witness the death of his entire family before he dies!” It is true. When a person dies through my voodoo, I can feel his heart beating while Medea crushes it to death. I feel the physical

210 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS death of every person dying in Medea’s hands. It is a very unpleasant experience. While all this was happening, I received word from Warden Balut of BID jail saying he wanted some money so he could fix Ivler’s room upon his arrival. This was really a soft way of extortion. If I granted his request, I was sure Jason’s life would be easier in this detention facility. Otherwise, it would be hell. So I sent the warden some of my cursed money. In the meantime, Sunio planned to see his mother in Laguna one weekend. On his way there we heard news from him that Warden Balut had died of a heart attack. I told him that it was because I had put a curse on the Warden. Sunio’s mother died a few days after his arrival in Laguna. After the burial, the chief became very ill in his mother’s home, and he was hospitalized. After all sorts of medical examinations and tests the doctors told him they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Nevertheless, he continued to be ill and was unable to get up from bed on his own. A few days later, he called Trax from the hospital and asked her if I put a curse on him. “I told you all her money comes with a curse of death. You know that. You’ve seen people die because of it. If you wronged her the curse falls on you too,” she explained to him. Sunio told Trax to tell me that he asked for my forgiveness. And that he swore he would do right by me if I cured him of his illness. After I received this message, I called my girl. “Tell him to get salt from his mother’s kitchen and put it in boiling water. He must take a shower using that water. He will get better after that. In addition, he must leave all his clothing and shoes behind in Laguna. He should return to Manila with a new set of clothes and shoes,” I explained to Trax. I believe this was around

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December 2010. It is very difficult to keep track of exact dates. Ivler gets so frustrated with me when he reads my writings. He wants me to put exact dates in my books. I can’t. So much has happened, and I don’t keep track of exact dates. I called Trax earlier from Grand Turk, asking her for dates and names. I asked her for the name of the Vice Commissioner of BID who suffered from my curse, along with the name of the Immigration Commissioner who died as well. She couldn’t remember. How could she possibly remember when she’s been kidnapped, harassed, and framed I don’t know how many times in the last two years? I sent a message to Fiscal Felix Almoro asking for the name of the Commissioner via text message. He answered promptly and gave me the name Jose de Jesus. I told you it’s the events that matter to me, not the dates. Plus, after reading this book, you won’t remember any of the dates anyway. Truthfully, you won’t remember much of the detail. But your soul will connect further to mine, and for me that is more important. Anyway, Sunio followed my bidding and his health improved. He returned to Manila and went to work. However, he did not keep his promise, the true scum that he was. Two months later, sometime in January 2011, I heard news from QC Hall that Vargas’ wife died of natural causes. Later on, his daughter died as well. They say that she was shot to death in their home in Montalban, Rizal. Around Chinese New Year, February 2011, Sunio returned to his mother’s home in Laguna. During this time, Trax told me he had a video for me of Judge Vargas receiving money from Fiscal Felix Almoro. I asked Trax to set up the exchange for me. However, again, the Chief violated the agreement and refused to surrender the

212 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS video to me. He demanded even more money in exchange. While in Laguna, he suffered a heart attack that sent him to the ICU. This time, he was more ill than the last time he was in the hospital. Once again, Sunio called Trax and asked me to lift the spell. On the phone, I told Trax to tell him I would send him salt from my home. As he did before, he should add this in boiling water and bathe in it. In exchange, he must surrender the videotape to me without expecting payment for it. “He gives me the video in exchange for his life,” I told Trax. Sunio arranged for Trax to see him in Laguna, which is over two hours away from where she lived. She did as told and brought him the bag of salt from my kitchen. She arrived in Laguna early afternoon to deliver the cure for the BID official, which he used immediately. The Chief told Trax to go a certain place at 8 o’clock that evening where his staff would meet her to give her the videotape. The poor girl waited until past midnight for Sunio’s employee to come. Eventually, she did get the CD that was supposed to contain the evidence I wanted to incriminate Judge Vargas. The following day, Trax sent me a message early in the morning. “Tita, the CD is blank,” she wrote on her text to me. I called her immediately. “That means Sunio is dead! He will die three days from the time he bathes with the salt I gave him, “ I told her. After I put the phone down, I send Chief Sunio the following text messages. “You didn’t honor the deal. The CD is empty. Now feel my wrath. The salt I gave you will slice through your heart. Every grain will turn to blades of death that will cut the life out of you. You will start to choke after reading this. You are dying. Soon, you will stop to breathe.”

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The following morning, Trax sent me a text message. “Sunio is dead,” she wrote. Ten people died between the months of September 2010 to January 2011. Wait a minute; I’m mistaken. The private prosecutor representing the scum Victor Ebarle Sr. died as well. She was a former judge. I loathe her. She was bald, fat and monstrous. She was ugly inside and out, smut to the core. The baby dragons and I called her Ursula, the hideous octopus from the children’s movie Ariel. I heard she and her husband were shot in public. So 12 maggots are now fertilizer for the earth. In trance, I cursed them all every night, imploring the Goddess of Death to strike them out of this matrix! After Sunio, Chief Rod Rodriguez of DOJ took over Ivler’s case, working with Fiscal Almoro. According to the Chief from DOJ, his job was to assist in getting Ivler his surgery, transfer his custody to BID, and prove his innocence, in that order. In addition, he told me that this was because someone within the US government had asked him to get involved in Jason’s case. As I think back now, trying to refresh my memory, tears fall from my eyes thinking of Chief Rodriguez. Suddenly, ahead of me I notice a huge white boat some 100’ long anchored in the ocean. As I gaze at the sea, I continue to weep thinking of the Chief. He was the best one from the pool of vultures I encountered during the last two and half years that represented the Philippine government. He was corrupt. He also stole money from me. How did my life ever get so complicated? However, Chief Rod was brave. He did more good for me than bad. Therefore, I forgave him for his weaknesses. It was during the arrival of this high-ranking official from DOJ that things reached a higher level of complexity. He had several meetings with Judge Vargas, with Fiscal Almoro escorting him every

214 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS time. They even went to the Judge’s house in Montalban for meetings on weekends, where the bastard had them waiting for him several hours on some occasions. The Chief informed me that Vargas had a reputation of extorting money from both parties regarding the criminal cases he handled in Quezon City. This means not only was he demanding pay-offs from me, the Chief said the Judge did the same from Ebarle, the man accusing Ivler of shooting his son in public. The DOJ official formed a habit of reporting to me day in and day out, giving me updates regarding Jason’s case. He would start early by saying good morning and end the day with a good evening. Some two weeks after he started working on Ivler’s case, he and Fiscal Almoro were at a Starbucks near the Immigration building in Manila to meet with Judge Vargas again. After 3pm, I didn’t hear from the Chief anymore, which worried me. Normally, he would text me when the meeting started and when it ended. Trax was there earlier with them, but according to her she was sent to get some documents photocopied. When she returned, the Fiscal and the Chief were gone. The appointment with the dirt bag Vargas was 1pm. He was late again. I sent Chief Rod several messages but there was no reply. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I got out of bed at 5:30 the following morning and went out to sit in my garden, holding my mobile phone. At around 6am I received a message from the Commissioner of Immigration. “Ma’am,” he wrote. “Chief Rod and Almoro were kidnapped yesterday afternoon.” The commissioner was in Hong Kong the day before. He said he flew to Manila immediately as soon as he received the bad news. He took the last flight out of Chek Lap Kok Airport back to the Philippines. I have to stop typing for a moment because I must be careful

215 MARLENE AGUILAR what I write next. Seriously, my life story would be so much better written as fiction. I’m a bit frustrated right now knowing that what I have told you so far is a safe version of the truth. I’m going to go take a shower. Maybe that will help me process all the information that is raging in my head. Anyway, it’s my birthday today. I’m going to get ready and go out to dinner with Maya and Steve. I will talk to you again tomorrow. June 20, 2012, I spent my birthday at Sandbar last night with Maya and Steve. I had a great time. I don’t really like making a big deal about this day in my life. I prefer to celebrate it quietly. And I don’t like cakes and candles to go with it at all. Before Steve came into my life, it was sufficient for me to celebrate my birthday by going out to a fine place for dinner with Jason and Colby. I will now go on with my story. The kidnappers demanded ransom for the two government officials. In a situation like this, you don’t contact the police or the authorities because in the Philippines, they are the kidnappers. The wives and family of both men were contacted. They were instructed to start raising the funds to get the two men out of their horrible predicament. I helped raise funds for the ransom from my own personal account. Both men were kept in a hideout located in Pasig, not far from my home. A group of armed men guarded them. Almoro befriended one of them. I named this man Bravo, a brave Muslim. It was through him that the BID official found out the kidnappers’ boss didn’t treat his men well, including feeding them properly. They were unhappy. At some point, Bravo decided to help Almoro. He gave him back his cell phone and let him go to the bathroom. Almoro sent me a text message at once.

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“I’m okay Ma’am,” was the message I got from the BID official at around 7am. He continued to talk to me after this. In the meantime, I called Trax. I communicated with her on the phone, while she worked with the commissioner who sent an Intel agent to work closely with her at my request. In emergency cases such as this, Trax would toil around the edges of the mission at my command, playing a very crucial role. In that sense, she was a mysterious factor in the equation. On top of that, she’d do anything to get the job done. The kidnappers communicated with the commissioner while we planned the rescue of Chief Rodriquez and Fiscal Almoro using some Intel agents working for the government. The time and place of the meeting was set. In the meantime, Almoro was able to text me giving me vital information on their location and the men surrounding them. I called Trax at around 8am. “What time is the rescue team going to the meeting place?” “Com says 4pm. I’m going with them,” she answered. “How many vehicles are going?” “Three. Com says we’ll be there before 4pm,” she replied. “You can’t all go there at the same time!” I told Trax firmly. “Tell Com to send three snipers there now to scout the perimeter of that place. Tell him he should place these men in designated locations, before the rescue team gets there. Otherwise, his men are dead! What the fuck is wrong with him?” “He’s the Commissioner of Immigration,” Trax answered laughing. “His job is to extort money from foreign citizens, not lead a rescue operation,” she added giggling some more like a child. “Did Almoro bring the white stone I gave him?” I asked Trax. I had given the man a moonstone carrying a spell that would protect

217 MARLENE AGUILAR him from danger. Moreover, I told him to keep it in his possession at all times. “Yes,” she replied. “Why?” “Because during the rescue, he’ll take a bullet in the chest. I hope it goes to the right side, otherwise he’s dead,” I answered. The commissioner followed my instructions, but by the time the snipers got to Pasig, the abductors’ headquarters was empty. They had moved to a new location in Sta. Mesa, Manila, not far from SM Centerpoint, a huge and ugly mall owned by the business tycoon Henry Sy. The time of the meeting was also changed. The commissioner received instructions at around 5pm giving the new location, and the time was moved to 7pm. The snipers were sent there ahead of time, while the commissioner followed. To make a long story less complicated, Chief Rodriguez of DOJ and Fiscal Almoro of BID were rescued that day. Someone tipped off the media when the shooting started, but by the time the media got there, the fighting was over. Fiscal Almoro did take a bullet on the right side of his chest. Chief Rodriguez took him to a hospital outside of the city where the media couldn’t find them. In the meantime, six of the kidnappers were arrested. Bravo was among them, but that was done on purpose. He seemed to have switched sides at this point. The other abductors fled. There were 13 of them, all armed. According to Bravo, Victor Ebarle Sr. was his employer. He said the latter masterminded the kidnapping of the Chief and the Fiscal. The Muslim added that kidnapping was part of his boss’s job while working for the former president of the Philippines, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, who is now under house arrest. Where there is yin, there is yang. Where there is action, somewhere there is reaction. The universe works in very mysterious ways. The

218 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS following day after the rescue, I learned that the home of one of Ebarle’s relatives located north of Manila was bombed. All eight people inside the house apparently died during the incident. Two days after the rescue, Chief Rod and Almoro went to the Philippine General Hospital located in Manila to meet with an official to discuss Ivler’s possible confinement and surgery there. While leaving the parking area outside of the hospital, the two government officials were ambushed. Armed men from another vehicle shot at them. Chief Rod, who was armed with a 45-caliber gun, shot back at the men trying to kill them. I was informed he shot one of them. Unfortunately, a seven-year-old boy crossing the street was shot in the crossfire. “Call me,” Trax said in her text. I called her right away. ‘Chief Rod is in the hospital with a boy who was shot in the chest. They were attacked,” she explained. As she spoke to me, I saw the image of the undernourished impoverished boy who was shot. “The boy is as good as dead,” I told her bursting into tears. “He will not live.” “How do you know?” she asked. “I see the future. I see him. He is thin and undernourished, a tortured soul,” I answered. “You’re right, he is terribly malnourished,” Trax said. The poor boy had surgery at the hospital. He took a bullet through his left chest. It was at this point I learned to respect Chief Rodriguez. He never left the boy’s side. He stayed with him in the hospital day in and day out, caressing his head, and taking care of him. TV news reported that a young boy had been injured during a shoot out. But the full truth was buried. Some security guard was paid to give an entirely different story surrounding the incident that fatally injured the unfortunate child.

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The boy died about a week later. His mother decided to bring his corpse back to their hometown in the south where he would be buried. Trax went with the boy’s mother to the pier in Manila to see her off before she boarded the ship along with her son’s remains. Unknown to them I paid for the hospital bills and gave the family some money, so they could start a small business. Meanwhile, Bravo remained detained along with the other five kidnappers who were arrested. There is no record of this detention. They were brought to a facility chosen by Chief Rod that is unknown to the public. The Muslim told the Chief and Almoro that there was a hidden CCTV in the place where they were detained. He also said that at one point Ebarle Sr. was there wearing dark glasses. He contacted one of the other men working with him to steal a copy of the video that would prove Ebarle’s crime. Plus, Bravo agreed to testify against his estranged employer. He did find one of his mates, a man we called ‘Charlie’ who got a copy of the video we wanted. He arranged to sell the evidence to us, communicating with Chief Rod. I agreed to buy the proof. “Before I pay, tell Chief Rod to ask Charlie to meet him and show him the proof. You must also be there. I want you, Almoro and the Chief to watch the video,” I told Trax on the phone. The meeting between Charlie and my team was arranged one afternoon at the office of Chief Rod in DOJ. Charlie brought the CD containing the evidence together with another man who had escorted him. Coincidentally, Almoro had a BID Intel working with him all day that day running errands and doing paperwork for him. When Charlie arrived, the Fiscal asked him to sit outside and wait for him. While they watched the recording, I was on the phone with Trax. “Is it what we need?” I asked my girl. “Yes, Chief Rod says this will

220 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS put Ebarle Sr. in jail for many years.” “Arrange for another meeting tomorrow afternoon. I’m buying the evidence,” I told Trax. Unknown to all of them, the BID Intel named Jun heard the conversation inside the room regarding the sale of the video. The next meeting was arranged at the headquarters of BID at 5pm the following day. Trax came to my house at around 1pm, when I gave her the cash to pay for the proof. After that she updated me on every move she made. The last message I received from her was when she got off the Metro Rail Transit (MRT). “In a tricycle now heading for BID,” was her last text. I didn’t hear a word from her for a long time after that. Unfortunately, she never arrived at the meeting place. Charlie never arrived either. By the time they got near to BID they were both abducted. The Intel who grabbed her from behind attacked Trax right outside of BID headquarters. She desperately and repeatedly screamed for help. But when two men tried to help her, the Intel said she was his wife, and he caught her cheating on him. After hearing the Intel’s declaration, the two men walked away. “Where is Trax, Ma’am?” was Chief Rod’s text to me at 6pm. “She should be there,” I said. “She left my house at 1:30pm. She should have been there by 2:30pm.” I wanted her to be at BID earlier because she had other errands to do. Fiscal Almoro sent me similar texts asking about the whereabouts of Trax. They told me Charlie was nowhere to be found either. In the meantime, I was worried to death about my girl. I sat in front of the image of Kuan Yin at home asking her to protect Trax, while I cried. I knew she was in trouble. I asked the Chief and Almoro to remain in BID in case we heard from Trax. If she needed help, we had to be ready.

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I lay in bed that night with eyes open staring at the ceiling, feeling my heart beat with anticipation. I tried to close my eyes, to force myself to go into a trance so I could communicate with Trax. I forgot to tell you that at this time, she was around six months pregnant. While lying in bed, I summoned all my Buddhist guardians to aid her and protect her from the danger she’d found herself in. I hoped she had brought with her the white stone I gave her. That stone is alive and is empowered by some great celestial forces through a voodoo ritual I performed. The goddess Kuan Yin, she who has the power to give life and death, blessed the stone. At around 8:30 pm, I received a strange message from an unknown mobile number. “Intel took me 2 Quiapo near Temple pls feed my kids dner.” It was Trax. I taught her to communicate with me in this manner. She was taken to a ghetto in Quiapo, Manila known to harbor the most dangerous rebels and terrorists in the country. It was an area of Manila where the Muslims reign. The Intel brought her to a tiny, dilapidated house. There were three people there, a husband, his wife and another woman in her late 20s. The latter was assigned to guard her. The Intel told everyone he caught her stealing. He gave the husband some money and told him they should watch over Trax. She was kept sitting on the floor, with her wrists tied behind her back. Later, she told her guardian she needed to reach her sister because she was worried about her children. She begged her and asked to use her mobile phone to send one message to her sister to make sure her children were fed. The young woman allowed her request. “This is what you get for stealing! You have no fear of the Lord!” the female guardian told Trax. “I didn’t steal anything! It was Jun who stole all the cash I had,

222 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS money that’s not even mine! He’s the thief, not me. He kidnapped me,” she told the woman. “I see you’re liar, too!” the woman yelled at her. Meanwhile, I sent messages to Almoro and Chief Rod that Trax was alive, and that she’s communicated with me. At this point, my girl had already told me the Intel was involved in her abduction. I asked Fiscal Almoro to call Jun and tell him to report to him at once. He followed my instructions. The Intel arrived at around 10pm. I informed Chief Rod about Jun’s vicious act and asked him to keep the villain close to him. At around the same time, I started receiving text messages from Trax through her own mobile phone. Apparently, when she was shoved in the back of a vehicle after the Intel grabbed her, he tied her wrists behind her back. She kept a tiny mobile phone in the back pocket of her trousers. So she was able to take it and put it inside her sex organ. Unknown to her kidnappers, she had access to her own phone. Later on, she asked her female guard permission to use the bathroom. There, she sent me messages telling me that Charlie was in the same house with her, and that Jun had taken the video from him. She also informed me she had a plan to get out. In the meantime, I told Chief Rod that Trax would try to escape her captors, and that they should stay put. The Intel who was in a happy mood was with them. He reported that he had won some gambling bet, and now he had a lot of cash. He called his wife so she could come collect some of the money. The Intel also told the Fiscal and the Chief that he would like to treat them for lunch the following day. At midnight, Trax’s guards had fallen asleep. Her wrists were still tied behind her while she sat on the floor near a man who was sitting at a table. He kept a 45-caliber gun on the table near his right hand.

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By 3am, Trax had escaped her oppressors. She was able to escape through the small bathroom and crawled out to safety. She had no idea where she was because her kidnapper had blindfolded her after she was put inside his vehicle. She saw some tricycle carrying fresh vegetables on the way to China Town. She stopped the vehicle and told the driver she wasn’t feeling well and had to go to the hospital immediately. By 5am, I received a message from Chief Rod. “Trax is here badly bruised. She’s carrying a 45, and she wants me to find a buyer for the gun. Can you believe this?” Not only did my girl escape her kidnappers, she stole one of their guns, as well. Three days after there was news that a man was found dead in the Muslim territory in Quiapo. We guessed that was Charlie. Two days after that, according to Chief Rod, the Intel who abducted Trax was also found dead. According to Fiscal Almoro, he had filed a kidnapping charge against Victor Ebarle Sr at the Department of Justice. Bravo agreed to testify against his former employer. Chief Rod and Fiscal Almoro continued to work on Ivler’s case, working with some mysterious US government agent who hid behind the scene. After the ambush, a BID Intel named Noel was posted with the Chief acting as his security. Bravo at this point worked closely with him, as well. He found another friend who could retrieve another copy of the proof I wanted. So another meeting was set up one evening not far from DOJ to meet Bravo’s comrade. Fiscal Almoro had something urgent to do that night, so he didn’t come. It was only Noel and Bravo that came with Chief Rod. But Trax wasn’t far away. She was in the vicinity of the same location, just a phone call away. Again, Chief Rod was ambushed.

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Three strange men started shooting at them. In the process, Noel was hit in the chest because he used his body to protect the Chief. Bravo was wounded, too. Two men from the enemy camp were also injured. Bravo and Noel were taken to two separate hospitals outside the city for their own security. They were also registered under different names. Unfortunately, the enemy had sent their men to the same medical facility Noel was taken. Both men went through surgery. After the operations, Chief Rod took care of Bravo. Trax took care of Noel. In the meantime, and unknown to both men, I shouldered all their hospital expenses, including their medication. According to Trax, Ebarle’s men didn’t know where Bravo was, so he was safe. But she feared Noel’s life was in grave danger. “I saw Ebarle’s men in the lobby,” Trax said in her text. “They’re looking for Noel.” “Stay with him. Don’t you leave him,” I told her firmly. Trax never left Noel’s side except to go home and get changed. She warned me repeatedly that she thinks Noel would be attacked in the hospital, and that both their lives were in severe danger. I would like to remind you that at this time, she was around seven months pregnant. One afternoon at around 3pm she sent me this message: “2 Ebrle men searchin evry room same floor wer in trouble” My heart stopped when I read this. During this time, the BID Intel was so weak, he couldn’t get out of bed on his own. How was a small woman who was seven months pregnant supposed to protect him? For a few hours, I didn’t hear from Trax, not a word. I stayed home anxious fearing for both their lives. Once again, I sat before the image of the goddess Kuan Yin staring at her in tears, beckoning her to protect my allies. “Please protect these people

225 MARLENE AGUILAR who risk their lives for me, I beg of you,” I whispered to her again, and again. Four hours later, Trax’s text came in. “We’re safe,” she said. I called her immediately. “What did you do?” I asked her. “When I realized they were checking every room on this floor, I took Noel and hid him under the bed. Then I got on the bed, covered myself with the bed sheets and pretended to be the patient,” she explained. “Did they come?” I queried. “Yup, they did, those mother fuckers, sons of putas! Just do your voodoo on these men so they’d all die together once and for all!” she stated. “I do every night,” I said. About a week after their surgery, Bravo and Noel were released from the two hospitals. I decided to stop chasing the video after that. I certainly didn’t’ want to risk the lives of these men again. What happened next? So much happened, but I can’t tell you everything. By the way, a high-ranking DOJ official named Emma Antonio is currently facing charges filed against her by Fiscal Almoro of BID. To the best of my knowledge, there had already been a number of legal trials regarding her case, which was held in DOJ court. And Trax testified a few times against her. Apparently, Emma Antonio demanded money regarding Ivler’s case through Fiscal Almoro. Antonio said the money was to pay for Leila de Lima’s signature needed on Ivler’s documents so he could get his surgery. The latter is the current head of Department of Justice in the Philippines. Later on, when de Lima saw the documents, she declared the signature shown on the papers was not hers. Emma Antonio accused Fiscal Almoro of forging de Lima’s signature.

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Fortunately, another DOJ official witnessed Antonio signing the papers faking de Lima’s handwriting. This DOJ official and Trax have agreed to stand as witness against Antonio. The trial has been on going now for almost a year. According to Fiscal Almoro, Emma Antonio stole the money intended as pay-off for de Lima, and she forged the signatures on his client’s legal documents. Would you think the alleged act of Emma Antonio is rare among government officials in this god-forsaken country? No. Most of these vultures are scum of the earth. I have yet to meet a government official whose signature is not for sale. Do I believe Emma Antonio is guilty? Absolutely! Do I believe Leila de Lima, or any government official in the Philippines, would sign any document without demanding pay off? No. To the best of my knowledge, for the past two and a half years, every government official handling Ivler’s case has extorted money from us in one way or another. There is no exception. Chief Rodriguez told me the DOJ head also demanded a great deal of cash regarding Ivler’s case. He added that this was in exchange for her signature on some documents. So, one day he went to her office and gave her the bundle of cash in an envelope. Trax said she was with the Chief the day he delivered the pay-off to de Lima. In addition, she said the secretary of de Lima also witnessed the Chief giving her the parcel of money. The following day, the Chief called de Lima looking for the signed documents. She said she hadn’t signed the papers because he hadn’t sent the payment. The Chief went to de Lima’s office at around 7pm that night. Trax sat outside the room with the secretary of the DOJ head, while the latter and the Chief engaged in a screaming match. In the meantime, Trax sent me messages imploring me to text the Chief to calm down. She stated she was afraid the man would get

227 MARLENE AGUILAR violent. I did send messages to him telling him to calm down. But he ignored them. Trax said she heard the Chief yelling at de Lima accusing her of stealing his client’s money. “So many people are dead! I don’t want to end up dead like the others! Do you hear me?” he yelled at her. The screaming between the two became so vicious, de Lima’s secretary called for one of the security guards to come to stop them from fighting. Later, Chief Rodriguez told Trax he strangled de Lima while she sat on her chair. Do I believe the Chief’s story? Yes, I do. Do I believe Leila de Lima, who is the head of the Department of Justice in the Philippines, stole the money that came from the Chief? Absolutely! From my own personal experience, Filipino government officials at this point in history, starting from the top, and all the way down, are diseased to the core. I was told Chief Rodriguez is now dead. I believe the CIA had something to do with his misfortune. The commissioner of immigration died before him. I asked Trax several times what his name was, but she couldn’t remember. So, I sent a message to Fiscal Almoro asking him the name of the former commissioner of BID. But, I am not ready to tell you how these two men died, maybe in the next chapter. The above events are only a fraction of what occurred in my life during the last two and a half years involving high-ranking government officials. Maybe someday I will write a whole book about these unbelievable stories. These incidences have led me to believe that the greatest enemies of the people are its so-called public servants, the villains representing the government. You cannot reform the Philippine system, it is immoral through and through. As

228 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS far as I’m concerned, there is only one thing you can do with the old government. KILL IT! As I typed that last sentence, I heard the voice of the Buddhist oracles in my head, saying the same thing they’ve repeated over and over for 20 years. “You cannot run from your fate. No matter which path you take, all roads will lead you to Rome. Accept it. You were born to lead. You will change the future of this nation.” “One day, the stars in the sky will align to pave the road for the true daughter of heaven on earth to fulfill her great destiny. Every man who stands in your path will perish for heaven shall pluck him out of your way. All those who stand with you shall rise with you, and all those against you will die. Corpses of dead men will surround you. There will be an ocean of death.” “Through you, the world as we know it, will turn upside down. The powerful will become powerless. And the powerless will be empowered. You shall ease the suffering of the poor. “ June 14, 2012 at 10am, another monstrous vessel carrying lost tourists approaches the shores of Grand Turk, invading this island and threatening this paradise. I’m staring at the monstrosity now from my terrace as it passes to my left. Within me, Medea wants to crush it and send it to the bottom of the Atlantic. It is painted all white, except for some kind of logo on top that looks like the tail of a dolphin, colored in red at the center, blue on the sides and white in between. The windows on the middle deck are painted the same. This commercial voyager to me is a true icon of mankind’s ignorance. I loathe it! A few days ago, former NBA player Chris King who played for Gordon’s Gin in the Philippines posted a religious statement on his FB wall. He’s had several similar declarations, quoting some holy

229 MARLENE AGUILAR book. I had an exchange of messages with this athlete earlier on, and he seems like such a nice man, except, like most people, the box and the limited strictures of society have contained his thinking. Most of his FB headlines are religious quotes. On his FB wall, he wrote: “ IF ANYONE PREACHES ANY OTHER GOSPEL TO YOU THAN WHAT YOU HAVE RECEIVED, LET HIM OR HER BE ACCURSED.” AMEN. GALATIANS.CH.01vs09.” In reaction to his statement, I wrote him a private message and said: “QUESTION - If you were born in Iran or Tibet - do you think you’d be preaching the same thing?” Two days passed, and I received no response from the basketball player. I’ve never really known athletes in all my life. Maybe it’s because they’re a world apart from the kinds of people I’ve chosen as friends; mercenaries, actors, artists and musicians. I hungered for Chris to engage just so I could pick his brain, the brain of a basketball player. I sent him another message. “Why won’t you answer my question? Come on. Play with me. It’s good exercise for the mind.” Still, I received no response from the sportsman, so I sent him another message. “Come on! Fuck the quotes! Speak out for yourself!” Again, no response, so I sent him another message once more. “Here’s an excerpt from the book I’m writing now. ‘I believe the ultimate challenge in this particular matrix is confrontation of fears. Unless you conquer all your doubts then you will have failed in this life. If you fail you will be born again to face the same bullshit you are running away from in this existence. You will return to this world once again to suffer the same pain. On

230 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the other hand, ultimate freedom will cast you out of the never- ending process of reincarnation. Absolute liberty is the only key to Nirvana.’ You fear the devil, and that’s why the devil owns you.” Finally, the tall man wrote back, which made me happy. Oh yes, he did! I smiled a great smile when I read his declaration. He said: “NO BABYGURL, I USED TO FEAR THE DEVIL, BUT FOR 10 YEARS NOW I’VE FEARED THE LORD” This was my response to Chris King’s statement. “I don’t fear the lord. Why should I fear the Creator that loves me for everything that I am? The ONE GOD you praise, created good and evil, which are infinite and opposite forces that co-exist. One cannot be without the other. They give each other life. You don’t know good without evil. You don’t know life without death. You don’t know joy without tears, and you don’t know happiness without sorrow. There is no night without day, and there is no blackness without light. The forces of yin and yang are forever entwined. You don’t choose between the 2. You embrace them both. From there, you find balance between these opposite forces. You find the very center of good and evil. Only then will you find enlightenment and inner peace. If you only love the good side of a person, that is not genuine love. True love embraces everything, the good and the bad, warts and all. So, if you only embrace the good side of GOD, then your love for the ONE CREATOR is not pure and unconditional. This is why most of mankind is lost. Their religion destroyed the pure image of the Lord. I’ve pushed your mind beyond its comfort zone. And now, you must think for yourself. Use your brain big boy. XOXOXO! :D :D :D”

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Chris posted a new headline on his wall. “ FATHER, HELP US TO HONOR YOUR NAME. COME AND SET UP YOUR KINGDOM. GIVE US EACH DAY THE FOOD WE NEED. FORGIVE OUR SINS, AS WE FORGIVE EVERYONE WHO HAS DONE WRONG TO US. AND KEEP US FROM BEING TEMPTED.” AMEN. LUKE.CH.11vs02. I responded to his post with this private message. “The kingdom of god is in your heart. You were born flawed. So, first and foremost, you must learn to forgive yourself for being human.” He wrote back and said, “True.” I sent him another narrative. “Religion uses the name of the LORD to promote fear, to control you. It doesn’t promote freedom. So in the end, it isn’t god it is promoting, but control over you. The age of the earth is over four billion years old. Imagine that. Add to that the fact that there are billions of stars out there, each with consciousness like you and me. Considering our primitive existence only allows us to use 10% of our brain, knowing that those billions of stars are ALIVE, and therefore, they have consciousness, and ability to think beyond our limited mental capabilities - do you think those billions of stars would accept that Jesus is god? Jesus died for our sins? Mankind were sinners before Christ, mankind were sinners during Christ, mankind are sinners now - and mankind will always be sinners. Why can’t you see religion is for the birds! THINK FOR YOURSELF AND BE FREE!!! Religion demands ‘blind obedience’. Don’t you think that’s wrong? Jews who of course declare that the CHOSEN PEOPLE are the Jews in Israel wrote the bible, which you live by. The god you pray to,

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Jesus Christ was also a Jew. He was a rabbi teaching his followers nothing else but Judaism. Think Chris. Don’t just swallow what the bible shoved down your throat. Think for yourself and be free. Either that or convert to Judaism. I think that would please Jesus.” June 14, 2012, 1:45pm. Steve just said good-bye to go back to work. He comes home everyday from work to join Maya and me for lunch. After eating, he normally takes a short nap, while Maya and I clean up the table and the kitchen, helping each other with the dishes. We’re now away from maids at home, so she and I have split certain household chores. When we were done cleaning up, I took my IMac back to the terrace where I sit on a wooden bench under a blue and white umbrella to continue writing this story. Maya asked permission to join two kids, a brother and sister from Canada, who are now swimming in the ocean. I saw these children earlier today with their parents when they got into a small speedboat and drove off. They’re staying in a white bungalow, five houses away from us to our right. Just a moment ago I stood up to check on Maya playing on the beach, and I noticed that the three children are now in the company of a white man wearing black swimming trunks. He’s probably the father of those two kids. As well, I noticed that Deborah and her daughter are now drifting side-by-side on the water sharing a long blue rubber float. Deborah is from Canada, and her daughter owns Sandbar. I look around me, and it’s so beautiful here. The all-encompassing Mother Ocean is always singing to me, the sound of her splashing waves is ever present, nourishing my soul. The crystal-clear water before me stretches as far as my eyes can see. Meanwhile, the endless ripples of waves dancing and romancing the vast blue-sky makes me smile. I am living in a dream.

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Everyday since I arrived in Grand Turk, I’ve thanked Steve for bringing me here. Still, as I sit here writing this book, I start to cry, my heart aching with pure anguish. As I type these words, tears fall from my eyes. I think of Jason in jail while I am here in paradise. If I didn’t have him there, I don’t think I could ever go back to that desolate place. A great part of me refuses to go back to the Philippines, my beautiful motherland, a place dominated by the vultures of society who call themselves government officials. Maya has returned from her escapade with the two children on the beach. “Go to the shower and wash the sand off your body,” I told her as she walked up the stairs leading onto the terrace. After taking her shower, Maya and I found each other in the kitchen. We decided to have chocolate ice cream. “Do you want marshmallows with your ice cream?” I asked her. “Yes please three pieces,” she replied as I took the ice cream container from the freezer. Maya is notorious with her ‘pleases’. It’s the British in her. “They’re not Canadian, Mom. They’re half US. And the Dad was funny. He kept tickling us,” she told me with a big smile. “I could hear laughing from where I sat,” I said. “’I’m a lobster!’ he said, ‘and I’m going to pinch youuuuuuu!!!!’” Maya yelled cracking up. All of a sudden, her face turned serious. She glared at me with her dark-brown eyes and asked, “Why was Manong’s Dad assassinated?” “What?” I asked surprised. “You know, the Dad of Manong, why was he assassinated?” she repeated. “How did you know that?” I queried, still shocked. “You told me,” she uttered softly. Inside me, my mind spun racing through my memory bank. I

234 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS never told Maya about Jason’s father’s death. Maybe she heard Steve and I discuss it. Then I thought of the people on the beach. Did the funny man say anything to my daughter? This is such a small island, and word gets around fast. Did one of them Google my name? Is one of them spying on me? Later, Maya told me that the father of those two children has a male friend who is from the US. I find it strange. I haven’t seen so many people on the beach until now, and I’ve been here for almost two weeks. I counted nine people on that side of the waterfront today, including my daughter. Plus, why did she ask me about Jason’s father’s death suddenly after spending time with those people? I wonder what is going on. After dinner, we all went to Sandbar for drinks. As we walked toward the place from the parking lot, I noticed three men drinking at the bar. There was a Caucasian man sitting on the left corner, a black man wearing a black T-shirt next to him. In addition, I saw another male Caucasian standing beside the latter, nursing his beer. As we entered the restaurant’s hallway, I could see the third man better. He faced us, as we walked in. He was in his early 50s, stood around 5’10”, bald with a beard, and he had a round face framed with eyeglasses. He wore a blue golf T-shirt, jeans and a pair of soiled black sandals, made of rubber. It appears he’s been in the water too many times by the looks of his tired aqua shoes. There was really nothing special about this man’s stature, except for his eyes. His eyes were different from that of the other men. They were alive, which means unlike many people, he hasn’t been defeated by life. It is through the eyes of a man that I can invade the privacy of his soul. Maya walked ahead of Steve and I, rushing to go to the beach as always. And as soon as my daughter passed the man, he reached out to her with his left hand. “Hey! Don’t you remember me?” he asked

235 MARLENE AGUILAR with a strange British accent. Maya stopped and turned around. At this point, I stood facing the man, and my daughter was to my right side between us. “Don’t you remember me anymore?” he asked my daughter again, smiling the most charming smile. “Maya, is that the funny man on the beach today? Have you forgotten him?” I asked. “No, that’s not him,’ she replied shaking her head confused. “You’re not the man on the beach with the children today?” I asked him. “No. That’s not me,” he replied, still smiling the most pleasant smile. “But I met her here during ‘quiz night.’” At this point, my daughter waved at me in a peculiar fashion, her silent way of asking permission if she may be excused so she could run away to the beach. I nodded my head in approval, so she took off instantly. Meanwhile, Steve interrupted the man. “No, that wasn’t Maya. That was another girl. I was here that night. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the man said. “I thought that was her. How beautiful your daughter is.” Steve and I sat down at a table right across the bar, next to our preferred seating area. Some overweight Caucasian woman was already seated at that table when we arrived. The man in a cheerful mood continued to talk to us, standing between Steve and me.“Are you going to attend the quiz night next week?” he asked Steve, holding his beer with his right hand, his eyes shifting between my partner of 14 years and myself. “I’m the one preparing the questions,” he added. “I don’t know. Bryan should join. He seems to know the answers to the questions since he reads a lot,” Steve replied. Bryan is a Canadian citizen, an archeologist who has been living in Grand

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Turk for many years. “How long have you been here,” I asked the man, interrupting their talk. “Fourteen months.” “Do you like it?” “Like it? What’s there not to like?” he replied cracking up. “I love it here! Look around you. We’re in paradise!” “What do you do?” I asked him. “He takes care of the cruise ships that come here,” Steve said. “Yeah!” he declared proud and more jubilant now. “The Carnival arrived today, did you see?” “How many people are in that ship?” Steve asked. “Four thousand passengers plus the crew, around six thousand,” he replied. “I find those things so ugly, and an invasion against serenity,” I told the man. “What is wrong with people that they’d tour the world packed in a ship like sardines? How can you find that relaxing? And what kind of food could they possibly be serving, when they’re mass producing it for four thousand!” “But we’re giving people what they want,” he answered. “How could you promote this kind of atrocity? There are less than four thousand people living on this island. Yet, you let these ships come here with six thousand passengers for a few hours to take a piss!” “Come on,” he stated uneasy. “You have to understand the needs of people. Look at the way mankind is...” “Stupid, ignorant, tasteless!” I hollered, interrupting his sentence. “Exactly!” he answered, eyes wide and chuckling. “Oh wow!” I commented chattering as well. “I like you now. Since we agree, you’re in my good books,” I added laughing some more.

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“I’m taking my daughter and wife to the cruise center tomorrow,” Steve told the man. “Don’t go tomorrow, there’s no ship coming in. They won’t let you in.” “But that’s exactly why I’m taking them there tomorrow because the tourists will not be there,” Steve explained. “OK, tell the guard at the gate John sent you, so he’ll let you in,” he reiterated, and then he took his bottle of beer to his lips and finished his alcohol. Soon after that he turned around to face the bar, a step away from where he stood. “Stop being a snob and be nice to him,” I warned Steve, while the man had his back turned to us. “What am I doing?” he asked gently. “You’re quietly giving him the attitude you normally give other Brits when you want them to get lost,” I said. “That man is not like any other man I’ve met here. He knows people like me. He could help me.” Instantly, John who is half Scottish, half English turned around to face us once again. “And what is your family name, John?” I asked. “Young,” he responded. “I’m the general manager of the cruise center.” “Nice to meet you, John Young. My name is Marlene Aguilar,” I said shaking his hand, smiling. The three of us continued talking, while I kept an eye on Maya playing solo on the beach below. John told us about the places he traveled to while working as staff for a cruise ship earlier on in his life. He said one of his favorite places in the world is the island of Paros in Greece. He told me of a small and exquisite Italian restaurant there that was managed by a man, his wife and their

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son. Apparently, the man is the chef who cooks from his wheelchair on rolling wheels. Moreover, he serves the food, swaying from one customer to the other. “You know what, though?” John announced. “I wonder why this family left Italy to move to Paros?” “Maybe the wife is wanted for multiple murders in Italy,” I replied laughing. In my mind, I thought John knew the answer to the question he asked. And I think the answer wasn’t far from my response. Later on, other people came to Sandbar, crowding the bar. A man started talking to Steve, so John Young and I were left on our own to talk. It’s not difficult for me to open up to a man like him, because he is what I would consider a genuine person. We talked openly for a while, and I was right about him. He has seen and experienced more of the world than most people. He knows people like me. Therefore, he could connect me to certain characters I may need to see in the future. The following day, Steve, Maya and I went to the cruise center. The gate was closed and was guarded by a man who had the accent of a Haitian. I rolled the window down when he approached our car. “The place is not open for visitors,” he said. “John Young sent us,” Steve and I stated in unison. He nodded his head, walked away, then turned right back, scratching his head. “Your names?” he asked. “Steve and Marlene,” I replied, after which he opened the gate to let us through. The Grand Turk cruise center is like Disneyland. It’s a made-up world. It was created to receive the massive herds of tourists who come in from the cruise ships several times a week. The place is top rate with world-class stores and shops selling all sorts of expensive junk for lonely people. I counted over a dozen stores there along

239 MARLENE AGUILAR with a couple of restaurants, a massive swimming pool adorned with many lounge chairs propped next to each other. When we went to the center’s beach, I found a legion of blue and white sunbathing chairs propped up one next to the other, touching one another, too many to count. I imagined over four thousand over-excited and lost tourists, coming off those commercial ships, cramming into this small area with their Margaritas and Piña coladas, their sight, stench and sound invading the solitude of Grand Turk. The thought of it made me cringe. June 15, 2012, this morning as I ate my breakfast, I looked before me and found the glorious Caribbean Sea invading the interior of our home away from home. “Look at that. Look at the water,” I told Steve and Maya. “It’s so beautiful out there.” “It’s like a masterpiece of art,” Maya uttered with the sweetest voice. “Wow! Maya! You’re so poetic for a 9-year-old,” I told her. “I’m going to quote you in my book.” “But it is like a masterpiece of art,” she repeated softly. June 19, 2012, today is my birthday. Like most people, you are probably wondering how old I am. Since I believe there is no time, then I am ageless. I have two ages actually. There is my cosmic age, which is eternal and then there is the time I’ve spent in this matrix which I call, my earth years. I don’t think of the latter at all. I don’t age like most humans. Within me, I’ve programmed myself that I am a certain age and so that’s what my body projects. Yesterday, I toured the Turks Head Mansion with Steve and Maya. What an amazing history this home has. It was built 200 years ago, and was the first house to have electricity in the whole island of Grand Turk. Imagine that. It was leased by the US government

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for 86 years, using it as the headquarters for its consulate. In the 50s, it was turned into a hotel, and astronaut John Glenn stayed there when he landed on earth after circumnavigating the planet. In addition, over 11 movies had been filmed in the house. We arrived at the property at 1pm, after having lunch at the Bohio. As we parked the car, I saw a tall Caucasian man with brown hair standing in front of the house. He was over 6’ tall and was very fit, military fit. Steve got out of the car, followed by Maya, both walked over toward the house to meet the man. I stayed behind, giving myself time to peer through the man’s soul. In my head, I thought he wasn’t the person I expected to tour us around the house, not at all. Why? Because, he looked to me like a soldier from the US Special Forces. Finally, I got to shake his hand, as we greeted each other. Then he took us in the front garden of the property where we all stood staring at the stately home, while he gave us its history. Like other military men I’ve known, this man was uncomfortable in the presence of civilians. I will not give you his name. It’s weird; I don’t even feel like giving him a pseudo name. “Hurricane Ike damaged the house a few years ago,” he said. “And it took 22 Chinese skilled workers to restore it.” “The house is not level,” I told him. “What?” he said with a nervous tone. “The house is not level, “ I repeated. “Believe me, it isn’t. I’ve built houses and my eyes are very sensitive to balance and measurement. One day, as I entered the main hall of a construction sight, I passed by a master carpenter about to put in a century-old door in its frame. I yelled at him and said, ‘the frame is not level!’ He yelled back and said, ‘Yes it is Ma’am! We measured it!’ I yelled back and I told him he better measure it again. So, he did. And you know what?” I told the broker. “It was off by a quarter of

241 MARLENE AGUILAR an inch. I was right. And I’m telling you this house is not level.” In my mind, I thought Hurricane Ike must have forced the house down on one side. The first week I was in Grand Turk, I had seen a large gazebo on the waterfront located on a large property where a stable of beautiful horses are kept. The structure was not level on the ground as well. The Jamaican caretaker of the place told me Hurricane Ike had redecorated the gazebo to tilt to one side. Steve, Maya and I toured every room of the house following the tall man. On the exterior, the home looked impressive like those quaint houses I have seen in Cape Cod. But inside, I found it depressing. It was tired. A home that’s not lived in gets exhausted. Plus the floors would have to be ripped out completely. I thought beneath the flooring would be a nightmare of problems. I could fix the house, but after what I’ve gone through in the last two years, I’m not sure I have the energy to do so. We stayed inside the Turks Head Mansion for over an hour, I believe. At one point, the tall man and I were left alone to talk near the bar. It was here I learned that he was with the British Special Forces. He had been on the island now for 13 years because he had to escape his ‘active’ life. “I’m running away from a bizarre life in the Philippines as well,” I told him. “I wrote a book that was monitored by the US and the Philippine governments. As soon as I started writing it, friends and family were harassed and abducted by the US for interrogation. When I launched the book at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the SWAT Team raided my home. On January 18, 2010, my government sent 100 heavily armed men to my home to kill my son and myself.” “Obviously, those men did a bad job ‘cause you’re still alive. If they’d sent me and my men, you’d be dead,” he said.

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When I sat in the car after we left Turks Head Mansion, my head was spinning. What I had just experienced seemed so surreal to me. Questions rushed through my head. He was with the British Special Air Service (SAS), which is part of the United Kingdom Special Forces (UKSF). Some of these men work as assassins afterwards. From the way the man spoke to me, he had a very ‘exciting’ life. For me that means, he continued to work in the killing fields after his service with the SAS. Since when did a mercenary work as a real estate broker? What the fuck is going on? Why can I not escape these people? Last year, Miss California sent me a text message from abroad saying, “Not only US and RP are monitoring you, China too.” Did they send him to monitor me? Who sent him? The US? China? UK? What the fuck! I thought I was in paradise. I thought I was away from that violent world. I wanted to burst into tears, but I couldn’t because I didn’t want Steve and Maya to see me upset. Yet, the practical side of me wants to go back and see the man again. I want to get to know him better. I want to see if he would be available for work later in time. What if I needed him in the future? What conditions and parameters would he require to take on a contract? He must operate from Grand Turk. He must work in the Caribbean, Florida and Europe. Those are the places adjacent to this place, which could be reached easily by water or by air. Would he take a mission while living a quiet life in the Caribbean? I thought if the money were right, I’d say he would take dangerous assignments. And if he took an undertaking, which demanded an entire team, I bet he would know exactly how many men to bring and the field of expertise he would require from each of them. He wouldn’t have joined the SAS if he weren’t addicted to danger. That kind of life stays with you. You cannot permanently run from it.

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Later that day, I sat drinking a glass of chardonnay with Steve at Sandbar facing the ocean, watching some birds from the sky dive vertically into the water catching fish. It was then I was told that the real estate broker I met earlier is never seen to socialize in the restaurants and bars in Grand Turk. “Some people hide by avoiding people,” I told Steve. “I do the opposite. I hide by showing myself to the world.” I sent Caesar an email regarding the British soldier. I wrote: “Today I went to see Turk’s Head Mansion. Here’s the strange part. The real estate broker who showed me the property was with the British Special Forces. I’m wondering whether he’s still taking jobs on the side. How fucked up is that? This is so fucking surreal!!!” He replied immediately and said, “Wow! That is weird. Do you think he’s tracking you?” I answered his query saying, “When did you ever hear of a mercenary working as a real estate fuckin’ broker? I’m not sure if he’s tracking me. But I have to ask myself several questions about the man. Is he an asset? If he is, who’s he working with? I was told this guy doesn’t go out. You don’t see him in the restaurant or clubs here. He doesn’t mingle. Why? Because of his violent background, it is highly possible he operates from here. I’m so pissed!” “Why are you pissed?” the SF commander replied. I wrote Caesar back and sent him narrative I had written earlier because I intended it for this book. Here was my reply to him: “Part of the reason I’m pissed is because something strange happened to me on my way here from Manila. Read below. Since my partner left for the Caribbean to work, I have been going out every weekend with Jason’s girl, Diane Zandi. I would take Diane to three places to dine and drink, the Manila Peninsula in Makati, and the Sofitel and Hyatt Hotel in Manila. Miss California

244 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS warned me last year that I’m not only under surveillance by RP and the US governments but China as well. What the fuck have I done to get such attention? Anyway, I seldom leave the house. I don’t care for parties. And I definitely couldn’t care less about the so-called high society in the Philippines infested with brainless, overweight, sexually starved matrons with more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson and Joan Rivers put together. Whenever Diane and I are out, I’m aware that my actions are being monitored. I am always on the look out. I am very good at sensing people, even through a crowd. In public, my eyes are constantly searching for a character that would pass for a CIA wanker or the equivalent. One day, some two months ago, Diane and I had cocktails at the outdoor bar of Sofitel. As we were leaving the hotel at around 6:30pm, we passed through its crowded lobby. While we headed toward the main entrance of the hotel where we entered, I noticed there were people everywhere. There must have been over 400 people scattered in all directions. Some buses had just arrived, carrying a legion of tourists, and there was also a wedding function. Still, I noticed one man who was different from the rest. Why? For me, he stood out, because he didn’t belong to the place. Although he wore a nice dark suit, nothing in his demeanor told me he lived in the same petty world of men. He stood at the end of the concierge, facing my direction to my right, his arms resting on the counter. From where I stood, I couldn’t see him clearly. However, I don’t have to see his face to know he was different from the rest, and that he comes from the world of Marcus. Because I’ve been with them all my life, I can sense the energy of such men from a long distance, even with their backs turned to me. While walking from the other end of the lobby, I gauged that the

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man and I were approximately four meters apart. As I approached him, I calculated my every move. I behaved in a manner that would have put him at perfect ease if he were really watching me. I didn’t want him to know I was on to him, so I kept a funny conversation with Diane going that made both of us laugh like children. However, as I walked toward the man, giggling with Diane, I made sure to keep our distance in width shorter, going from four meters to three and a half, to three meters apart, marching forward moving to my right. During this time, I didn’t look in his direction at all. But by the time I stood parallel to him, we were only two meters in distance. As well, I chose this exact moment to gaze at him. Therefore, we saw each other eye-to-eye. Has this man killed people before? Definitely. He’s probably addicted to killing like others are in that business. Never again since that moment did his image leave my memory. I knew that something extraordinary would occur during my trip from Manila to Turks and Caicos. Guess what? The same man I saw at Sofitel Hotel almost two months ago was on the same flight with me from Manila to Hong Kong, and then from Hong Kong to London. I would have not seen him, because he remained inconspicuous. However, I went out of my way to search for him. He was in first class; I was in business class. Coincidence? I don’t believe so. When Maya and I landed in Hong Kong, we got out of the plane. As we approached the airport, we saw three people in uniform holding placards. The first two had names of passengers, while the last one, a male personnel standing to my right held a sign that said, “Passengers in Transit” showing an arrow pointing to the right. Now, very few people know the name I used on my passport. I approached this man and told him, “We’re going to Turks and Caicos. Which way should I go?” You know what the man said to me? He uttered

246 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the last name on my passport to make sure it was me he was talking to! Now, how the hell would he even know the name I used unless he had been briefed before my arrival? In addition, as we were getting our boarding passes from London to Turks and Caicos, the British Airways attendant in front of me suddenly saw a message on the screen after she verified my passport that made her flinch. She stood there with big eyes staring at the screen. I watched her lips move, murmuring the words she read on the computer, in shock. Immediately, a British Airways male personnel interrogated me. After that, five more came to cross- examine me. This lasted for over an hour. While the morons in uniform asked me the same fucking questions over and over again, in my head I hungered to wring their necks to death. God knows I would have, if I could get away with it. I was so angry! I believe the CIA wankers watched me closely on their video screen. They wanted to see if I would get stressed during cross-examination. My behavior would have given them the answer they looked for. I think they wanted to make sure that I didn’t switch passports with another woman, and that the person flying to Providenciales was actually me and not an impostor. I think they were paranoid that I would sneak into another country, after which they could have lost track of me. So if I did switch passports with someone else, instead of the vicious me, they would have seen a guilty woman under duress while being probed. In that situation, they would have immediately stepped out of their cubicles and arrested my accomplice. What a bunch of fucking idiots! Why the fuck would I pull a trick like that while traveling with my nine-year-old daughter?“ Here was Caesar’s reply: “They are still playing their games with you. Hmmmm... I am interested to see how this will play out.”

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“Somebody must be playing a joke!!!” I wrote to him after reading his email. “No joke. They are watching you closely.” He answered. I sent the SF commander another message: “I thought about that man again. What are the chances of me marking one man as an assassin out of 400 people, and that same man follows me from Manila to Hong Kong, and from Hong Kong to London? I don’t believe this is coincidence.” “No way is it coincidence,” he replied. A few days after receiving this note from the son of Ra, I received vital information from a very good source that there is indeed a man in Grand Turk who is with the MI6. I wonder how many there are. In addition, I have already met and spoken to this person at Sandbar and at great length. While talking to him, I felt inside me that the world of Marcus wasn’t alien to him. However, he was so refined, his actions before me camouflaged some truth about him. What a great actor he was. It’s nice to see I have competition! I like the MI6 agent a lot actually. I also believe this feeling was mutual between us. Unlike Miss California, he has an exceptional mind. Both his left and right sides of the brain function very well. Although he serves the box, he is able to think with freedom. There’s a great difference between this man and myself though. He is for sale. I am not. I wonder about this MI6 agent. How many has he killed directly? How many more has he killed at his command? Has he masterminded assassination lists? If so, how many? And how many names on the lists? Where was his area of specialty? Europe? Asia? Middle East? Russia? South America? I would say that an assassin whose area of expertise is Manila, for example, would be able to hit a top-ranking government official from the Supreme

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Court or DOJ in 72 hours. In another electronic mail, I sent Caesar another correspondence: “On Gaddafi, from Wikipedia, read below - I like him. Libya enjoys large natural resources,[50] which Gaddafi utilized to help develop the country. Under Gaddafi’s Jamahiriya “direct democracy” state,[48] the country’s literacy rate rose from 10% to 90%, life expectancy rose from 57 to 77 years, equal rights were established for women and black people, employment opportunities were established for migrant workers, and welfare systems were introduced that allowed access to free education, free healthcare, and financial assistance for housing.[51] In addition, financial support was provided for university scholarships and employment programs.[52] Gaddafi also initiated development of the Great Manmade River,[51] in order to allow free access to fresh water across large parts of the country.[51] The country was developed without taking any foreign loans, and, as a result, Libya was debt- free.[14] Despite his role in developing the country,[14][51] critics have accused Gaddafi of concentrating a large part of the country’s high gross domestic product on his family and his elites, who allegedly amassed vast fortunes.[50] Many of the business enterprises were allegedly controlled by Gaddafi and his family.[53] Despite the regime providing financial assistance for housing,[51] segments of the population continued to live in poverty, particularly in the eastern parts of the country.[54][55] When the rising international oil prices began to raise Gaddafi’s revenues in the 1970s, Gaddafi spent much of the revenue on arms purchases and on sponsoring his political projects abroad. [56] Gaddafi’s relatives adopted lavish lifestyles, including luxurious homes, Hollywood film investments and private parties with

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American pop stars.[57][58]” “What brings him up?” Caesar asked. “I thought the positive things Gaddafi did for Libya was amazing, and impressive. I wonder what he did to piss off the US though....” I answered. “That may be something we’d never know,” he wrote back. “Oh, I’ll find out fat boy!” I said. “I’m sure you will,” he responded. By the way, Caesar is not fat. I just like to call him fat. June 17, 2012, I woke up this morning looking forward to my life here in Grand Turk. Every two or three months, I thought Steve and I would tour the other countries in the Caribbean, Antigua- and-Barbuda, Aruba, Bahamas, Barbados, British Virgin Islands, Cayman Islands, Cuba, Dominica, Dominican Republic, Grenada, Guadeloupe, Haiti, Honduras, Jamaica (the capital is Kingston), Martinique, Montserrat, Netherlands Antilles, Puerto Rico, Saint Barthelme, Saint Kitts-and-Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Martin, Saint Vincent-and-the-Grenadines, Trinidad-and-Tobago and United States Virgin Islands. I would like to end this chapter with a beautiful note from a European admirer and supporter of mine who is an artist, a poet and a revolutionary. He is a soul mate who has read Warriors of Heaven twice. I have never met him in person. I think he writes so beautifully, which is why I am including his narrative here. And I hope someday, he finds what he is looking for in this particular journey. Although, he has given me permission to give you his real name, I decided not to include it. Why? Someday he would fall in love with a special woman, and I think these words of love he wrote for me could present a problem regarding his future relationship. Here is his narrative:

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“I just thought to myself about what true love is. Just to sit next to the person you love and talk about everything and nothing. To know that you don’t have to watch what you say or be afraid your love won’t judge or mock you. I wonder how your voice sounds in person, if you move your hands when you talk, or how your eyes and face react when you listen. Also, I wonder what perfume you wear, or what wonderful scent you produce yourself. We are from animals after all, and they use scent to communicate. Do you brush back your long luxurious hair when you talk? I wonder how you breathe. I wonder about these things my love. Is that true love? It’s like what you wrote about sex taking the couple to other plains of existence. At first, I didn’t believe it, but then I realized it must be true. When the two people have great open minds, ready to throw away the shackles of society and the small world of our own existence. Plus, when they have such great love and unbridled passion for each other, well then anything and everything is possible. And in this sex, they’re both equal yet the roles continue to reverse themselves; the person is once dominant but then becomes submissive, as I said, continuing to change. That is true sex. I want to hear those ruby lips tell me she loves me, those lips that are so defiant and can slay mere mortals with the words they speak. I want to kiss that beautiful tattooed hand of yours, and feel it lightly touch my face, like the sweet soft wind on a tranquil beach. I yearn to look into your captivating and soulful eyes that promise the secrets and treasures of the world, and the freedom that true love offers. Oh, my Empress of the East, my Helen of Troy, my Sybil, my Athena and my Valkyrie, how I yearn and thirst for your sweet embrace all the time, even in my sleep. I love you infinitely.”

251 Chapter 5

UFO

June 20, 2012 -” Making a million friends is not a miracle. The miracle is making ONE friend who would stand by you when millions are against you,” wrote my niece Ishna Pascual Aguilar on her FB wall. She resides in Sweden with her younger sister Crystal. My brother Tony is currently living there as well. “In 2010, I was deemed to be the worst mother in the world in the Philippines, thanks to the government and the press. In addition, the public declared me insane, courtesy of malicious media persecution. However, during this most unfortunate time in my life, when millions of Filipino citizens condemned me, several souls stood by me. They protected me, defended me, and they fought with me. I will always be grateful to them. I will always love them,” was my post on my FB wall, in reaction to Ishna’s headline. I believe that the public campaign to condemn me as insane in 2010 was masterminded by one woman, the former leader of the Philippines, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo. In addition, I believe she wanted me convicted as the worst mother in the world to destroy my public image. She aimed to damage my image in the eye of the people. She succeeded, but only temporarily. I felt almost the entire

252 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS population of the Philippines judged me as such. “Mommy, search Marlene Aguilar on Yahoo and you will see over 600,000 results most of which are hate propaganda against you and Jsin,” Jesuke told me in 2010. “I checked the name of the Senate president and there are only 150,000 results. You’re more famous than the author of Martial Law,” she added chuckling. A few minutes ago I spoke to one of my soul children Dhada Peral on the phone. Her boyfriend Jeryco Amor and his brother Jason designed the graphic art for the cover of this book, and Bringer of Death. Dhada recently graduated from college. “Mommy! Jeryco googled your name and there are like 5 million 200 thousand results that came out,” she declared.”And you know what? The dwarf Gloria Macapagal Arroyo only has over 3 million results.” “Check Abnoy, check Abnoy,” I stated. “Jeryco, check Abnoy on Google,” she told her boyfriend. “What’s his name?” I heard him say. “Abnoy that’s his name!” she said to him giggling. “I can’t Google Abnoy! Give me his real name!” he yelled from the background. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t know the president’s true name?” I asked Dhada breaking into laughter. “Mommeeee, I don’t know,” she spoke to me whining and laughing out of control.” “We just know him as Abnoy!” she said gasping and giggling. I could hear Jeryco in the background laughing his ass off as well. “Give me the name,” he yelled. “Benigno Aquino III” I said finally. “Benigno Aquino III” Dhada repeated.

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“What the fuck? I can’t believe you don’t know the president’s real name. That’s terrible. Give me the result on Google,” I uttered. ”Over 2 million results for Abnoy, Mommy” Dhada answered. In 2010 Miss C advised me that Gloria Macapagal Arroyo put me on the government’s hit list. She wanted me dead. ““Why would she want me dead?” I asked. “Honey, not only does she want you dead, she wants your entire family dead! The hit list includes your husband, Jason Ivler, Colby Ivler, and even Maya,” Miss California warned me, while we sat in my receiving room one afternoon. “All because I wrote Warriors of Heaven?” I quizzed the grunt. “’Cause you’re bad news, girl! You’re just bad news for these people, you know what I’m sayin’?” she stated. Miss California came into my life after I was interviewed on the show TV Bottomline, hosted by Boy Abunda. The show is very popular in the Philippines. One of my supporters on FB told me his mother didn’t go to work the following morning, because she stayed up watching Abunda’s interview with me. It was during that talk I declared on air that,”I believe I was framed by the CIA” and Jsin’s involvement in a crime he didn’t commit was part of it. “The US government didn’t set you up. It was the Philippine government that did,” Miss C informed me. Question 1 – Why would this former state leader spend so much effort and money to destroy me? Question 2 – Despite my opposition to its aid and its war mongering, why would the US government go out of its way to send an agent to my home to appease me, and help me? In 2009, Howard Marks warned me during our last meeting in UK.”The CIA could kill you and me in the next 20 minutes. And there’s nothing we could do about it. Can’t you see, we are alive

254 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS only because we’re kept alive, and for good reason. We haven’t served our purpose.” Do I believe Howard Marks? Absolutely. I believe every word he said. Today, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo is under house arrest for her crimes. “Every man who stands in your path will perish for heaven shall pluck him out of your way. All those who stand with you shall rise with you, and all those against you will die,” the oracles have repeated these same words over the years. By the way, after this novel, I will write book 5 of my life story. It will be about my lovers, the men who touched my life. These are the souls that have guided me to become the person I am today. Will my story end then? No. Believe me, my life is a story that will never end. If my partner of 14 years, Stephen Pollard wrote about our life together, he would reveal a different me. If my dear friend and spiritual guide Paulie Caoili wrote about my relationship with him, he would give you another version of Marlene Aguilar. I believe my sons Jason and Colby will write their own accounts of their lives and their relationships with their mother. Furthermore, each of my sons will claim an entirely different kind of parenting from the other. Why? Because, the mother who raised Jason Ivler is certainly not the same mother who raised his younger brother, Colby Ivler. That is a fact. On June 22, 2012, just after we had breakfast, I took Steve to the airport. He has to work in Providenciales today, which is a 20-minute flight from here. This was my first time to drive on the left side of the road. To make matters worse, the steering wheel was on the right side of the vehicle. I have always dreaded the day when fate would throw me in a position where I had to steer on the wrong

255 MARLENE AGUILAR side of the street. What a strange experience it was. When I came home, the weather changed, going from iffy to bad. Now there is a storm in Grand Turk. The sky is dark and gloomy, pouring heavy rain, while the strong waves crash violently against the shore. As far as my eyes can see, there is not a boat traveling on the ocean; there is not a bird in the horizon, and not a living soul on the beach. As soon as I typed those words, suddenly, I saw one black bird flying not far above the raging waters. How brave this bird is, I thought, facing the unknown, defying the elements all on its own. The winged creature charging against the wind reminded me of my spirit, defiant to the end. Earlier, I had to chase the terrace’s large blue and white umbrella that had flown away with the lashing winds. Right now, the furious sound of the ocean and the wind besiege me. I can feel its rage within and without me. I realize there is something about the fury of Mother Nature that excites the wild animal inside me. I met our neighbor Deborah yesterday. She is a real estate broker from Canada, who moved to Grand Turk 10 years ago with her two daughters Tanya and Katya. She’s around 5’10” in height, round face with blue eyes, and big in build compared to most asian women. She has blonde wavy hair that cascades down below her shoulders, complimenting her tanned skin. She looks to me as if she has Scandinavian blood. She came to the house to join us for cocktails and dinner on the terrace, where we discussed properties available for sale in the island. “I heard you saw Turks Head Mansion. What did you think?” Deborah asked. I like her voice. “I couldn’t live there. It’s beautiful outside, but it’s depressing inside. Plus it’s not right on the beach. If we were to buy property here, I’d rather have it close to the water as we are now,” I answered.

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We had agreed for the realty broker to tour me around the island today, so I could see the properties for sale this morning. However, before noon, I suddenly heard a knock on the front door. When I opened it, there was the real estate broker, wearing a black top with spaghetti straps, brown shorts, standing three feet away bare feet soaking wet, with water generously dripping down her face, looking anxious while she towered over me. She looked like she’d been assaulted by the storm. “I don’t have your number, so I came,” she gasped catching her breath.”My house is leaking from the heavy rain, the dogs are out, and I have to find them. Let’s postpone the trip. We can’t see clearly in this weather,” she added. So the tour was delayed. At around 1pm, Steve called to say that he had received word from his older sister Jane in the UK that their mother Vanda Pollard had passed away. I have met both women. I met Vanda 14 years ago when Steve and I started living together. Not only was she witty, she was full of energy and life. Plus, she loved to drink beer. I loved her, and I enjoyed her company. She used to crack jokes like she was some comedian from Saturday Night Live. She made me laugh. We use to take her to ancient pubs in the West Country in England. And she’d say to Steve,”Be a good boy to your Mum. Make sure you get her drunk tonight.” “Would you like a pint of beer, Motha’?” Steve would ask Vanda. “Don’t they serve it by the gallon?” she would reply. “No, Motha’,” he would say. “Buggah! What’s wrong with England?” she’d holler. Steve and Maya have been visiting Vanda in London every year for several years now. I used to go with them until 2010, when my life drastically changed. Contrary to his mother, I found Steve’s sister Jane pretentious

257 MARLENE AGUILAR and cold. Like so many women who stay at home and who don’t work for a living, I found her materialistic and utterly boring. Her limited mind doesn’t go far beyond the four corners of her own home. After my phone conversation with Steve, I went upstairs to find Maya in the master bedroom. Her days in the Caribbean are filled with going to the beach, watching the Disney Channel, reading the books she brought from home, drawing with pastel, and doing household chores. She is in charge of sweeping the deck, washing dishes and feeding the stray cats. A gray mother cat and her four kittens come to the terrace twice a day looking for food, so we feed them our leftovers twice a day, lunch and dinner. I found my daughter in bed watching a cartoon, still wearing her white cotton nightgown. I asked her to turn the TV off. I hesitated to tell her the bad news right away. So, I just stood there staring at her beautiful face. She stared back, her uncombed and wavy brown hair covering the sides of her face. “What?” she asked suddenly. “You’re Granny is dead,” I uttered in a soft voice. “Which Granny?” she asked shocked, eyes opened wide. “The one in England. Your Dad’s Mom,” I answered. Then she hid under the sheets and started to cry. I went over to her and put her head on my lap caressing her hair. “It’s so sad, isn’t it? It’s sad when you lose someone you love. Granny is dead. Lola Salud is dead. We still have Grandma Barbara though,” I told Maya crying. “Does Daddy know?” she asked whimpering. “Yes. He called me to tell me,” I replied. “You spoke to Granny only two days ago remember? I’m so glad you did. She sounded so weak then.

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Maya, I know this sounds crazy but part of me is glad she has gone. She was unhappy anyway because she was so old and could no longer take care of herself. I believe she was only happy when you, and Dad visited her. If I get to be old like that, and I can no longer take care of myself, I’d rather be dead. Plus, it’s just our body that dies. The soul continues to evolve, going into another world where it will find another life,” I told my daughter. Afterward, I sat with her in silence, thinking back, my mind going back into time, tears falling from my eyes, as I listened to her crying. I thought of my loving mother. She died seven months after the shoot-out in my home. She cried every day and night after that horrible day. The tragedy Jason suffered at the hands of the hideous NBI agents, along with the disaster my son, and I suffered because of the government, and the media was too much for her to bear. My brave and beautiful mother, Salud Pascual Aguilar, died of a broken heart in August 2010. I believe she willed her death. During my mother’s wake Jsin’s cousin, Jerguz, read this note from Jsin. He wrote: “I remember back when we used to live in 7th Street in the mid 80s. I used to run up to Lola and ask her if I could have some money to buy Oishi. She’d give me these octagon shaped coins (two peso coins), and I’d come back with a bag of Oishi and a coke. When I look back now I think what a wonderful, caring, giving person she was who would give so much whenever asked even though she had too little. I will always remember her as the strong minded, feisty, loving woman she was. I love you Lola. – Jsin” I cry sitting in front of my computer, while facing the waters of the Caribbean. The weather had calmed down now, and the sun is

259 MARLENE AGUILAR out. Inside me, I hear Medea’s wrath, as she chants within my void: “Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die. Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die. Every person who stands in the way of justice and freedom regarding Jason Ivler’s case will die…” At 5:10 pm, Maya and I left our apartment to pick up Steve from the airport. There I saw the Governor of Turks and Caicos briefly, smiling the most radiant smile. I had seen him on TV the other night. And I thought how confident he was, exuding a very positive outlook for the future of this country. One of my top supporters in cyberspace is an Irish man named Michael Stewart. I have always loved the Irish. I don’t think I have ever met one I didn’t like. I find their passion for art and music intoxicating. On top of that, when we visited Cork in 2009, I thought its countryside was absolutely breathtaking. I could live there. Like my soul children, Michael’s soul is entwined with mine in a strong way. Through private messaging on FB, we have confided in each other. Because of the time difference between Ireland and the Philippines, there had been times I would talk to him via Skype when there was no one else around for me to talk to. Like my top baby dragons, you will find Michael defending me on the Internet constantly. He’s very protective of my daughter Maya, too. Michael is 30 years old, the youngest of three siblings. He’s very intelligent and was born with the heart of an artist. He is an actor, and he can write like a poet when inspired. Moreover, he has a passion for reading and has read many books on history, anthropology and old English literature. He says he hates modern fiction. Here is a conversation between Michael and me. His portion of the narrative is in Italics.

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On book 1 of my autobiography, he wrote me: “I thought Warriors of Heaven was very deep and soulful, written by a remarkable woman who has lived life to the full. The book changed your country’s history that set in motion the crimes perpetrated on you and your innocent son. This is the novel that brought out the Valkyrie warrior and Athena in you that now stands before us.” “I think, I have read over five hundred books. Because I believe society in general has nothing to teach me or to show me. Most people are mindless inconsequential plebs who I just don’t care for. I yearn for more, to be something and somebody, to be remembered for making a change and contributing something to humanity. And with you in my life, I know I can achieve anything. Also, I don’t want to marry, have a house and a desk job, and then have three kids who will be raised to become as boring and unenlightened as me and my wife. Fuck that! That is hell to me, and I can’t fathom why people would want that life.” In another message, he wrote: “‘I’m thinking of my high school report cards. The faculty members always wrote,”Michael has great potential, but he just doesn’t want to bother.” I should have framed them. My last year, I missed seventy days, and I didn’t study a bit. And I still passed my leaving certificate. My principal called my mother to tell her the results because I didn’t collect my leaving papers from the school like the other sheep. My Principal was amazed I passed considering the amount of days I missed. ‘Why does he waste his great intellect?’ she asked my mother. I would have said,”And do what, study and then go to college and become a teacher like you? Not in this life or the next.’” “I didn’t read any books in school not until I went to college. I

261 MARLENE AGUILAR also refused to do my homework. However, I still had high grades, because I did well on the exams. I grabbed my classmates review notes 10 minutes before the exams. I scanned through them before I took the tests. That’s all I did. In school, I was constantly causing trouble, giving my teachers hell. I loathed structured education, then and now! Ha ha!” “I never saw the point to exams at school, they were just memory tests. They were not an indicator of a person’s true intellect or worth, so that’s why I just didn’t bother. I always did well though in English and history. I was also the class clown. Even now I enjoy making people laugh. I don’t have many friends. Most of my friends have the same interests as I do. And I enjoy their company, and I’m very close to all of them. People seem to tell me everything about themselves. Yes, I was like that in school. I couldn’t keep still; my mind was running away from me constantly. We are alike in certain ways you and me. But after everything that happened to you, you never gave up or betrayed yourself and your beliefs, and you also didn’t withdraw from this world. And you still found time for me to give me love and passion. That is what is truly remarkable about you, Mamma.”

“Steve, my partner said that about me. He said although I’ve suffered so much tragedy in my life, at the hands of my father and people in general, I still have so much love to give. He said, anyone else in my position would be damaged goods.” “Yes that’s very true. Other people would have become addicted to drugs, or just have given up on life. Yes, other people would withdraw and keep their feelings to themselves afraid to let anyone in, but not you, Mamma.”

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The reason I am discussing Michael Stewart now is because, after I wrote the sad narrative on my mother earlier, I checked my FB, and here was his message to me. “By the way, the way I told my mother Maura that I loved her and I was sorry for my deeds in the past. I thought how much you missed your Mamma and how much you would love to talk to her again. And your great sadness in losing her still brings a tear to my eye. You make me want to be a better man.” “I wrote about my mother in tears today. Maybe, you could sense me. ” I wrote him back. I told Michael about the pain I suffered, when my mother passed away. In addition, he feels the depth of my relationship with Jsin. In another message, I asked him,”When was the last time you told your mother you loved her?” “When I was in treatment I suppose, seven years ago. I know how bad that sounds, but my family just don’t express themselves emotionally or intimately. My brother in-law, Abed, said that he says to my sister Miriam all the time that he loves her, but all she says is thanks. When I said that to my mother, she didn’t really reply to me, she just said, ‘I know you do.’ That was enough for me though. I would bet my life that my father never said I love you to my mother. If it ever turns out that my father is an actual Android or alien I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised. He lost his mother and father when he was fourteen and being the eldest son it meant that he became the main provider and had to grow up quickly. I don’t know anything about them. He never speaks of them. Why do you think my father is the way he is?” When I sent Michael the section of this book discussing the interrogation process I suffered at the London airport, he wrote: “You have such great beauty on the inside and the outside, you

263 MARLENE AGUILAR are not rare but one of a kind. And when I think of the CIA having you interrogated, it boils my blood like mad. And poor Maya must have been worried. Fucking soulless blunt weapons of murder and torture. They are human garbage that prop up war criminals and tyrants the world over. I truly wish I could do so much more for you and jsin, Mamma. Your struggle is so true and just, and you and jsin are the bravest souls that live on this earth. After everything you have seen, and the injustice perpetrated on you and jsin, I’m so amazed how kind and good your soul and heart are. How even through all this, you find time to give me love and support. That’s why I love you so much. Who else can say how blessed and honored they are to have a woman of your worth in their lives, and to have your love. Such a gift you have bestowed upon me, and I’m so grateful to have it.” “You wrote, ‘How even through all this, you find time to give me love and support. That’s why I love you so much.’ But you also give me so much in return. And I love you too, always.” “If only the upper class of your country had a fragment of your goodness and benevolence, then it would be a fair and great society. But they worship greed and avarice while their brethren starve and cry out for liberty and freedom. They live in glorified tombs, surrounded by high walls and gates because they don’t want to see and hear the peasants and serfs they have helped create. You are a liberator and champion for these forgotten souls. And that is why you will never be one of the privileged class.” Before I leave the subject on Michael Stewart, please find below the narrative he wrote about his vision. “I woke up this morning, and I heard a siren calling for me. I wander outside, and her voice became more intense. I could feel the direction it was coming from so I ventured forth. After traversing

264 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS across great fields of heather and wild grass, the siren’s voice seemed to be emanating from behind a huge and overbearing mountain. So I climbed this mountain for a day and night, and the siren’s call still was in my head. At the peak, I saw a golden fortress. I felt fear and anxiety at its immense size, but I had to answer the call, so I entered. Inside all I saw were these bronze statues depicting heroes from mythology. There I saw Theseus standing seven feet in pure bronze. He held a dagger in one hand and a long piece of thread in the other, which he used to escape the Minotaur’s labyrinth. Beside him was Hercules, but this time he was depicted as a child holding an enormous dead snake in his tiny hands. The snake was sent by Hera to kill him when he was a child. Then I saw Jason and his band of Argonauts, and he held aloft Medusa’s head to his cheering and jubilant men.” “In this vast pantheon a great light shone from the end of it. The siren’s call emanated from there. I walked slowly towards it as I felt a great power surging from the place. And there was you standing ten feet tall dwarfing the other statutes and encased in pure gold. You were depicted wearing Samurai armour with the symbols of yin and yang on the breastplate of your shield. You were mounted on top of a muscular and fierce horse. Your long black hair just flowed onto your armour. There was fire in your eyes, and your beauty so unique. In your right hand, you held a blood-soaked katana, while in your left you held a heart. It’s the heart of your people and heritage. Below you and underneath the mighty horse’s hooves were the distorted and ugly faces of the dead enemies of freedom and justice. And now they resemble gargoyles and serpents because they have returned to their true form. Emblazoned below this magnificent statue is the inscription, Warrior of Heaven. I felt a great urge to touch this goddess, but when I did a great surge of

265 MARLENE AGUILAR electricity knocked me back, and then I wake up in my bed.” Was it a dream or something else? I was uncertain until I saw the golden katana lying next to me. It’s beauty and glory is breathtaking and awe inspiring, and etched on the blade were just three words, Prince of Swords. Now I know the Warrior of Heaven is no myth or legend. And everyday I feel her presence and strength beating in my heart.” Yesterday I read on Yahoo news that”First Lady Michelle Obama gives a pair of emotional speeches in Colorado.” The article said: “First lady Michelle Obama delivered an emotional speech at a pair of campaign rallies in Colorado on Wednesday, urging voters to give her husband another four years in the White House—for the children. ‘That is what I think about every night when I tuck my girls in,’ Michelle Obama said at a high school in Centennial, Colo.”I think about the world I want to leave for them. I think about how I want to do for them what my dad did for me. ‘I want to give them a real foundation for their dreams,’ the first lady continued, her voice rising.”I want to give them opportunities worthy of their promise, because all of our kids are worthy. All of them. I want to give them that sense of limitless possibility. That belief that here in America, there’s always something better out there if you’re willing to work for it.” After reading this article, I posted a comment on the link. I wrote: “Maribel Van Keulen a US war veteran and current US government official wrote an open letter to Obama saying my son Jason Ivler was framed by the Philippine government for a crime he didn’t commit. I don’t believe any person in the history of the modern world rallied against any government as much as I have. I protested against the Philippine government in public, and marched seven kilometers

266 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS from my home to the Quezon City Hail of Justice every day for 75 days straight. Plus, I protested against the US government in front of the US Embassy in Manila because US Ambassador Harry Thomas, on behalf of the charlatan Obama, did nothing at all to protect the human rights of my son Jason Ivler, a US citizen and a US war veteran – who was tortured in front of me in my own home by Filipino government officials after being shot twice, the bullet of an M16 piercing through his body. The video of the incident is on Youtube. My son, a former US Ranger was framed for a crime he didn’t commit as my punishment for writing the book Warriors of Heaven that exposed the evil existence of the Philippine government. In addition, he was sent to jail with two parts of his intestines exposed through his gut. On top of my public protests in Manila, I also wrote an open letter to Obama, the US Senate, the US Congress and the UN secretary general Ban Ki-moon, which was posted on www.marleneaguilar. com since October 2010. I also sent the letter to the White House via courier. I have the receipt of the mail transaction. US President Barack Obama never responded to this letter, nor was there even a word from any member of his staff. Moreover, US Ambassador to the Philippines Harry Thomas never lifted a finger to help Jason Ivler even after my protest in front of the US Embassy. If Obama does not care about the human rights and welfare of US war veterans, then why should he care about any American citizens at all? Why is he even running for re-election as president? Obviously, he has no love for the American people.” The same post came out on my FB wall. Here below are some of the comments of my supporters. “Michelle Obama is yet again just another Hilary Clinton, living off the fame of their husbands, like the self serving nothings

267 MARLENE AGUILAR that they are. Where’s the change that Obama promised? Why is Guantanamo Bay not closed like Obama promised? Why is the trade embargo still in effect against Cuba? This embargo was actually created by Eisenhower in response to their puppet Batista in Cuba who was murdering his own people. A two party democracy is not a real democracy, and a two candidate presidential election is not a real election. How can you call that democracy when America has a population of over 400 million? Where’s the change, moron Michelle? Where’s the progress? Is this the democracy that your young men are dying for in Iraq and Afghanistan? And you scratch your heads then and wonder why they fight you. Obama also bailed out private banks and their debts, which China owns now. Where’s the change, Michelle? And why do your scum CIA harass and infringe on peoples human rights and liberties like Marlene Aguilar? Where do you get the authority to send these dogs of war to murder and mutilate innocent people, who also flood the world with narcotics to fund themselves and prop up authoritarian regimes around the world? Why do you have so many bases around the world, yet any other country opens a base near you then you are in arms about them? Why hasn’t Obama once apologized for what your country has done to the world by financing tyrannical despots, Mubarak in Egypt, Marcos in the Philippines, Mobutu in Zaire, the Shah of Iran, Pinochet in Chile, Batista in Cuba? The list is endless. Where’s the change, little girl Michelle? America right now is one of the most illiterate and obese nations in this world whose people get all their knowledge from Fox and CNN. You must be one of those women who think just because she has squeezed out a couple of children you can lecture the world. Your country is dead just like you and your fraud of a husband.” wrote Michael Stewart “People like Mrs. Obama don’t know shit. Yes, she’s an Ivy League

268 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS graduate, but so what? If President Obama doesn’t give the slightest fuck about US war veterans suffering over a ham-fisted piece of legislation under a government who attend to their every whim, then what more about the children whom Mrs. Obama relentlessly roots for? Our children are our future. You know what? Fuck that shit. Obama should’ve done enough shit ten minutes ago if he wanted to anyway. I hope people don’t miss the ironic implications of that carefully crafted speech utilizing the most Orwellian component of modern society appealing to their cheapest level of sentimentality so that they will continue to be emotionally manipulated into mindlessly consuming their new propaganda for the upcoming elections.” was the statement of my soul child Jordan. “US elections - the greatest current example of the revelation of the Self. It is the time when the need of the insecure politician for reassurance of the Self bulldozes the self-contained safety of government toward re-election. And that combined need to retain hold of power over-rules any vague memory of a people they once served, other than in another word-recasting of old promises. So the importance of people is revealed in all its true nature to man’s politics - as just another commodity,” Steve Pollard wrote. “False hopes for everyone again, I assume. I’ve had enough of these kinds of people. The world suffers for what they are doing and what they are not. The powers they have are not put into good use. Power, fame, wealth - what will they do with these when they die? I believe mankind should advance into glory and grandeur. And with that, a revolution needs to be done,” was Juanito Maximo’s remark. June 23, 2012, last night, Steve, Maya and I went to Sandbar for dinner. I had the pleasure of meeting Ric Todd there, the Governor of Turks and Caicos. On the role of the Governor, from Wikipedia:

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“The Governor of the Turks and Caicos Islands is the representative of the British monarch in the United Kingdom’s overseas territory of Turks and Caicos Islands. The Governor is appointed by the monarch on the advice of the British government. The role of the Governor is to act as the head of state, and he or she is responsible for appointing the Premier and five members of the House of Assembly. The official residence of the Governor is Government House of Turks and Caicos Islands, Waterloo, Grand Turk.” Here is what I think of Ric Todd. I sent this email to Caesar this morning. “Turks and Caicos is a British Colony. Last night, we went to the Sandbar, where my partner, daughter and I had dinner. Most of the British staff from the Governor’s office were there scattered at a few tables. A few days ago, the media here found out about Ivler and myself - I mean regarding the tragedy in the P.I. They wanted to use the information to harm the governor - for hiring my partner. The media accused my partner of using his diplomatic status to protect Ivler, which isn’t true. Like the media in the Philippines, the journalists here are not interested in the truth. They seek controversy, never mind if it’s false. Anyway, my partner and the Governor, Ric Todd, along with several of his staff flew to Providenciales yesterday. Apparently, the Governor is the first one allowed both on to and out of the plane. On his way to the plane, he asked Steve to sit with him. He told Steve not to worry about the wrong accusations coming from the media, and that he was okay with the issue. I heard the Governor is seldom seen in public. He rarely goes out. So, last night, he came to Sandbar. We had already finished dinner when he arrived. Although there were several members of his staff

270 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS there scattered over various tables, he chose to sit with Steve and me. Not only that, but he spent quite some time talking to us. To my surprise, the three of us had a very open conversation. I didn’t feel the governor put up a front at all, which I found so refreshing. In addition, when Steve got up a couple of times, to check on Maya, Ric Todd and I carried on with our interesting conversation. I felt there was absolutely no discomfort between us, although we were surrounded by a few tables filled with Steve’s colleagues from work who I bet watched us carefully with their judging eyes. The people who work with the Governor serve the box. These are people alien to the reality of my world. Before his post in Turks and Caicos, Ric Todd was ambassador to Poland and Slovakia. The truth is, I expected him to be bald, fat, limited in mind and full of himself. Instead, I found a man with mental flexibility, courage, sensitivities, passion, humility, openness and exceptional intellect.” On our way home from Sandbar that evening, Steve told me in the car,”My colleagues and their wives must have been wondering what you, and the governor could possibly talk about.” And I replied,”Things they’d never understand.” There are many people born with a gifted mind. But did you ever notice how people could be very intelligent, and yet they are superficial at the same time? I know Imee Marcos, daughter of one of the former presidents in the Philippines, Ferdinand E. Marcos. She went to Princeton University and became a congresswoman twice. Although, she has great intellect, I found her very shallow. I remember her sitting at the dining table in my home several years ago with two of her friends, Isabel Rivas, a local movie actress and Bessie Badilla, a former fashion model. I sat there astounded, listening to these three

271 MARLENE AGUILAR women. All they talked about was plastic surgery. They discussed and compared the various operations they had to enhance their physical appearance, as well as future procedures they desired for different parts of their bodies and faces. For many years, I contemplated why Imee Marcos is so superficial despite the fact that she is academically bright, and so well educated. According to a dear friend of mine, show business personality Kris Aquino, who is the sister of the current president of the Philippines Benigno Aquino III is also very intelligent. I heard she graduated from an Ivy League school in the US, as well. But again, despite her good mind, as far as I’m concerned, this woman is as shallow as they get. Kris and Imee Marcos have two things in common though. They both have had several plastic surgery operations, and they belong to the so-called high society in the Philippines. For the first eight years of my relationship with Steve, everyday, five days a week, I saw him for lunch. Countless of times we ate at the cafeteria of Asian Development Bank where he worked as a principal economist. This huge restaurant, I would guess had a seating capacity of 2,000. And countless of times, I’ve been surrounded by an army of highly educated professional men and women in the cafeteria of the ADB, armed with masters and doctorate degrees. And yet with the exception of a few, I found these people utterly boring and narrow. I have always pondered why so few people in the world have both intellect and depth. Without the latter, people are lost in this matrix. Where do complexity and profundity come from? I have wondered this for so long a time. Obviously, you can’t earn this precious quality by buying yourself a doctorate from Harvard or Oxford. This is what I think. Depth comes from spiritual intellect, and only old souls in this matrix possess this gift.

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Steve, Jsin, and myself are introverts. I wonder if this group of people consists of older souls. They don’t need people around them. They value their privacy. I believe they don’t need to reach out because their inner selves are already full. There is a particular and mighty nation in the west. Most of the world regards its citizens as being loud. I am not saying they are all loud. I am saying this is how the world sees these folks. In addition, for the most part, these citizens dress poorly. They are uncultured, pompous, callous, and they eat big proportions of food, which is why the majority of them are terribly overweight. I couldn’t eat one serving of their vanilla ice cream in their restaurants if there were three of me. Steve calls them the hamburgers on stilts. I could be sitting in a restaurant or resort anywhere in the world, surrounded by 50 people, dining quietly. Suddenly, I would hear one voice louder than the rest, invading my senses, the noise blaring above all the other voices in the place. It is like the sound you’d hear when the dentist uses his drill to crack your tooth. It makes you cringe, instantly. Such commotion would rapidly excite Medea in me, bringing her out in the open dying to impale the invader, and silence him permanently. You know what? Nine times out of 10, that loud person is a hamburger on stilts. “Why do these people even talk at each other? They don’t listen. They’re just yappin’. They’re so loud and shameless, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear them. They’re so rude and obnoxious,” I told Steve. “Because, they’re empty within” he answered. “I wonder if that’s because they have no real culture,’ I said. ”But you love them” he answered. “So what? Love has nothing to do with it. They’re still loud and obnoxious! I loved my father. But I hated him just as much.

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Please, when you choose a hotel or any accommodation for us, ask the management to keep us in the most private part of the place, and away from hamburgers on stilts,” I will remind my partner. Going back to Imee Marcos. We had a meeting several years ago in Bulan Restaurant regarding her mother, Imelda Romualdez Marcos. At that point in my career, I had already published 10 coffee- table books on Philippine art and culture. My first book was The Philippine Coral Reefs, featuring the artworks of Filipino master watercolorist Rafael Cusi, along with underwater photographs by Scott”Gutsy” Tuazon. This book was endorsed by the United Nations and eventually received the European Art for Environment award. I considered publishing a coffee-table book depicting the fascinating life of Imelda Marcos. So, one day Aimee and I found each other sitting at a corner table in Bulan, facing each other. I find it amazing how she keeps herself looking beautiful. I heard she has her own make-up artist at home. “Will you run for office again?” I asked her. “No,” she answered. “Why?” I queried. “There’s too much traffic between my home and congress,” she stated. I believe Imee and I talked for five hours that day. She told me that her mother had visited Qaddafi once, escorted by the Philippines’ top generals, Juan Ponce Enrile as well as Fidel Ramos who later became President of the Philippines. Both top-ranking military men come from the northern Philippines. Like Marcos, and like me, they are what we in the Philippines call genuine Ilocanos. Coincidentally, most presidents of the Philippines were born in the north. Why? This is because like the Jews, the Ilocanos share some unwritten and

274 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS deep loyalty toward each other. And as far as the national elections are concerned, they will more than likely vote as one in favor of the Ilocano candidate. Therefore, a senatorial or presidential candidate who is genuine Ilocano would surely get the majority of votes from the north, which is crucial to a successful national campaign. Apparently, a party had been given for the former First Lady and her entourage when she visited Libya. It was during that particular evening Imelda belly danced for Qaddafi. After that event, and to her surprise, she found out that Enrile and Ramos had left her behind. Apparently, Ferdinand Marcos’s top two generals left his wife in the hands of Mohammar. When Imee told me this story, my mind instantly went into overdrive, doing some quick mathematical computations in my head surrounding the event. In my personal opinion, Ilocanos, like the Muslims, are so much more cultured than all the other Filipinos. Ilocanos are like the Japanese with regard to respect. In our language, there are three levels of reverence when you address a person you are talking to. There is a separate language of respect used when you are talking to someone your age, another way to talk to someone older than you. And finally, there are other words of deference used for someone much older than you, like your grandmother, for instance. The Ilocanos, unlike other Filipinos are very strict regarding certain aspects of their culture, not only in words but in actions as well. For example, during family parties and gatherings, you would see Jason and Colby feed their grandmother first, before helping themselves with the food. That is how I was bred to raise my children. When I was 16 years old, I spent the summer in my ancestral home in Sto. Thomas, Isabela. During the daytime, I noticed that every time someone passed by the house, they yelled some sort of declaration. I asked my mother why they did that. She said it was

275 MARLENE AGUILAR disrespectful for people to pass her home, without announcing their presence. The Ilocos region of the Philippines is filled with rules like this. Sincerely, I wouldn’t know what to do if I were thrown into a big formal gathering in the north, unless I had an Ilocano mentor guiding me on my actions and speech. The north is so unforgiving regarding conduct that is not proper. Why am I telling you all this about the people in the northern Philippines and Ilocanos in general? Because I believe in my heart that those two top generals, Enrile and Ramos would have not abandoned Imelda Marcos, then First Lady of the Philippines, then wife of Ferdinand Marcos, the dictator of the Philippines, if she didn’t behave in a manner that was unacceptable to them. During my meeting with Imee, I could see she was frustrated with me. Truthfully, I believe we were equally and awfully aggravated with one another. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on crucial aspects regarding her mother’s book. For example, Imelda wanted to include photos of her posing with certain leaders of nations, like Qaddafi. Moreover, she wanted the heads of these state leaders to pop up from the book, like you would find in children’s publications. She also wanted to put sand in the book cover, because”Imelda grew up on the beach of Samar in the Philippines.“ “Also, my mother doesn’t like numbers,” Imee said.”She doesn’t want the pages of her book numbered.” At a certain point during our discussion, she and I had some altercation regarding the Philippines. “The difference between you and I is you love the Philippines! I don’t! Look what they did to my family and me!” she declared. After this day, Imee and I never spoke to each other again. During my lengthy conversation with her, I learned so much about the Marcos’. I came home to Steve that day, upset.

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“It’s only now I realize that since I was a little girl, this country never had a chance,” I told my partner in tears. After that, I cried in my living room for a while, my heart gripped with pain for the people of the Philippines. Before I leave the subject on Imee Marcos, I would like to tell you one more story about her. We went to an art exhibit many years ago, which I organized at the Le Souffle’ Restaurant in Fort Bonifacio, featuring a group of well-known artists in the Philippines. Ms. Marcos was one of the guests of honor and she, and I were also included in the program as speakers. “Are you nervous about standing next to the daughter of Imelda?” Celest asked me on the phone. “No,” I said.”It’s exciting.” “What dress will you wear? And what jewelry will you wear?” Celest added. “I will let her have the limelight and do the opposite of what’s expected of me,” I answered. “What do you mean?” Celest asked surprised. “I bought a cheap dress from the flea market in Greenhills. It’s only 700 pesos. I will wear that. And for jewelry, I will wear nothing, absolutely nothing,” I declared. During the art exhibit opening there were some 300 people at the Le Souffle’ Restaurant representing the art, diplomatic, and political community, along with my dearest friends, including Celest and Carol. There were also a few members of the media and show business personalities there. Imee arrived late wearing a white Chanel suit and diamonds that looked like they came from Van Cleef Arpel. I stood by the door facing the speaker as she came in with Mark, her Singaporean husband. She stood next to me after we greeted each other. Her spouse headed for the bar, and I saw him sit

277 MARLENE AGUILAR next to Steve. “You’re the next speaker,” I told her. “I’m not ready. You go first,” she said to me reading something from a small piece of crumpled paper she brought with her.”This is my speech,” she stated.”I wrote it in the car, on the way here.” Suddenly a couple of men from the media came walking toward Imee and me preparing to take our photos. I thought this was the perfect time to say this to the congresswoman: “Hey, Imee,” I whispered to her right ear.”My dress is worth only 700 pesos.” “No way! You’re lying!” Imee stated. “And as you can see I’m wearing no jewelry, because I can’t compete with you when it comes to clothes and jewelry. But let me tell you this. Look at those two men at the bar. Your husband sits with mine. Not that size really matters, but I bet Mark’s dick is only three inches long, whereas Steve’s is seven. So, you lost there!” After I said this to Imee, she choked laughing in front of the photographers. And I laughed along with her. Afterward, she delivered a powerful speech and in perfect Tagalog. Just like her father, she is an exceptional speaker. Before I continue with my story, here’s a song I wrote, entitled Philippine High Society.

Philippine High Society You are a woman dumb as a bee Your face is full of surgery Who cares what brand of clothes you wear You’re nothin’ but an empty shell

You walk in the gym you’re fat as a pig

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‘Cause when you dined you ate the pig When you speak you sound so fake I wish they ‘d burned you on the stake

CHORUS The Philippine high society Are full of beasts, count them 1,2, 3... They walk around with expensive bags Yet their hearts are dirty rags

Women who claim to be elite Step aside so I can spit I hate the way you talk to me Stay away, so I can’t see

Hideous marks all over you The plastic surgeons fucked with you When you smile I see no lines Oh hail the bride of Frankenstein

CHORUS The Philippine high society Are full of beasts count them 1,2, 3... They walk around with expensive bags Yet their hearts dirty rags

She Dragon January 1, 2012

June 24, 2012, word came from my soul child Jordan this

279 MARLENE AGUILAR morning. I sent him a note yesterday along with all the chapters of Bringer of Death. He wrote: “Thank you very much. This is more intense and searing. I can’t stop reading it. You make me weep with joy and sorrow as I read the accounts of these tragic events that transpired almost three years ago. My heart goes out to Maya. How I love your daughter so much. It is true, the world is cruel, and it spares no one. I sincerely hope with all my heart that Maya finds her way in this labyrinth. That amidst all the ungodly bruises this world inflicts on her, that she’ll still remain whole and her spirit, indomitable. Your story has drawn me into introspection. I looked at my eight- year-old self, feeling helpless and confused, without a mother to hug me and tell me that that’s how the world works. I remember those moments when I was forced to hide my identity since there was no one to reassure me that being gay is fine. Since everyone thought being gay is similar to being a pariah, no one was there for me. No one was there to educate me and tell me to read books. I will also finish this message smiling, knowing that I am one of the lucky few that were given the chance to read this powerful book before it was offered to the public. Moreover, I am smiling knowing that deep inside me, my blood runs with a need of longing, a hunger for more out of life. And most of all, I am smiling because I have met such a wonderful, intelligent, brave, and loving human such as you in my 22 years of existence. I thought you couldn’t make me love you more and yet, surprisingly, you just did. May the sun burn brighter and cleanse your spirit today. You are, indeed, a Warrior of Heaven. I love you, mommy!”

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Here was my reply: “No one outside of Jason Ivler can put me to tears like you do. Oh Jordan, I wish someday you would realize that you were born to inspire other broken toys like us. Your story must be told someday, just like mine. Because your pain, your tragedy like mine will give light to the world. I love you with every bit of my soul, always.” After this, he wrote me another touching narrative, which he posted on my FB wall. “I always cry whenever you and I talk privately. Our previous correspondence was, by far, the most heartfelt. Thick rivers of tears rolled down my eyes as I read these fragments of stories you sent me. What a great gift. You write with such intensity and passion. You are mighty, mommy. Mighty.” June 25, 2012, here is my recent email to Mr. O’ Neel: Dear Travis: Maya and I have been in a secluded beach in Turks and Caicos for over two weeks now. And we both love this place, I wrote to say - thank you again for being Maya’s favorite teacher of all time. She says, she will miss you forever and ever. Mr. O’ Neel replied: “Hi Marlene and Maya, So happy to hear you guys are having a good time! I am close to you because currently I am in Miami! I am doing training so someday I can become a Principal. Have a great summer and see you in August!” Before this school year was over, Maya had a friend from her class named Aya, who slept over at our house for a few nights. Her mother is Japanese, and her father is Danish. While having dinner with them one evening at home, Maya said,”Mom, can you write a song for Mr. O’ Neel? And I want you to call the song the ‘fiery

281 MARLENE AGUILAR serpents,” which is what they call the children in Mr. O’ Neel’s class. Immediately, I took my laptop and went outside in our garden to write the song below for my daughter’s wonderful teacher.

The Fiery Serpents There is a teacher at ISM My daughter loves him just like a gem He teaches her a lot of things He makes her smile, he shines within

Maya is so in-love with school And that’s because her teacher’s cool I dread the day this year is over I hope 4th grade is good as ever

CHORUS I wrote this song for Mr. O’Neel Maya and I, we hold you dear The fiery serpents look up to you You share your heart, so pure and true

Mom, please write me this song Make it short and not so long For Mr. O’Neel my coolest teacher And the fiery serpents, grade 3 level

Of all my teachers he is the best Write the song or I won’t rest In my class he makes us laugh I start to giggle I cannot stop

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CHORUS I wrote this song for Mr. O’Neel Maya and I, we hold you dear The fiery serpents look up to you You share your heart, so pure and true

She Dragon March 23, 2012

When I was done, I yelled,”Maya! Maya! I’m done! Here’s the song for Mr. O’ Neel. She and Aya came over, and I read them the lyrics of my composition. “See, it only took me around eight minutes to write this,” I said to Maya. “Five minutes, Mom. I timed you,” she replied. June 26, 2012, I received this delightful message from Farrah. Earlier, I sent her all the chapters to Bringer of Death, asking her to read them. I also told her I wanted her comments. She wrote: Hi tita! I just finished reading the six chapters you sent me. And here’s what I think. This book refreshes my memory. I suddenly remembered the first time I met you and the first time I read your book, Warriors of Heaven. And this book made me feel the exact same way I felt then, bringing the past into the present. So much has happened during the past two years that I honestly forgot some of the things here. I like the part about Miss California! During the press conference in your home, I was there when you two shouted at each other! Ha ha ha! What a sight! I felt like I time traveled while reading your story! This book is perfect. I’m pretty sure Jsin’s Army will love this!

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Anyway, I noticed that chapter 1 is about your relationships with men. And I can say, I learned a lot from it! How I wish I were as tough as you are, when it comes to men and relationships. Some of the chapters were very interesting because some of it contained information about the Illuminati. Reading it made me nervous actually. The Illuminati is a very creepy but a fascinating subject for me. I myself had done some research about the Brotherhood. They’re well known even in the pop culture. There are ‘signs’ that they really exist. So knowing that they have something to do with our government is really fascinating. I can’t wait to be enlightened. And of course, I’d like to give you a standing ovation for your erotic essays! Ha ha ha! That was definitely my favorite part! I love it! Also, the title of the book, Bringer of Death is very appropriate. At first, I had no idea why you changed the title of your third book from She Dragon. I didn’t understand why you’d call it such. Now, I do. It’s because YOU ARE THE Bringer of Death - death to your enemies, death to stupidity, death to innocence and death to the old world. Personally, I think one of the fiercest names a person could be called is Bringer of Death, second to She Dragon, of course. I feel so honored that you sent me the chapters and that you want to know what I think about it. This is why I love reading. Reading is the cheapest way to travel. Plus, reading your books makes me feel like I was there or something! And not just there, I feel like I astral projected into that world or something! Seriously! So thank you, Tita, for this cosmic opportunity. Regards to J, I hope he gets his freedom real soon. I can’t wait for your third book to be published!” As soon, as I read Farrah’s narrative, I posted this on my FB wall copied to her: “I just read your critique on book 3 of my autobiography, Bringer

284 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS of Death. JFC! What a mind you have! When I was reading your insights, I felt that it was actually I, reacting to my writing. How you absorbed my writing is how I want the young nation to see it, to feel it, to experience it. When I read your comments, I was so amazed. I laughed when I read your reaction to my sex essays. Ha ha! We’ve always seen eye to eye on this subject. You are definitely my favorite baby dragon when it comes to the subject of sex. What else can I say? You are my baby dragon because you are part of my soul. Thank you for reading the book. And thank you even more for such an honest and intellectual review.” Here was her reply: “Haha! I remember the essay ‘Prey’. You read it to me first! :D Thank you, tita. I’m glad you like my insights. I have to say, out of the three books, this one is my fave!” Anton Deleon commented on this post. He wrote: “Whoa, I am definitely looking forward to reading this new book. I downloaded the two earlier books and was blown away. I hope this one rocks the same way it rocked me. Do you have advance reading privileges for diehard fans? Hehehe. Best regards,” “I would be more than happy to send you the chapters to this novel. It still has to go through final editing and proof reading. It’s not ready for publishing yet, but it’s ready for advance reading. XO! You must have an exceptional mind to fathom the first two volumes of my life story. :D :D :D,” I wrote back. Later, I sent Anton all the chapters to Bringer of Death through a private setting on FB. Here was Anton’s reply. “I appreciate the trust and the confidence. I will read the chapters in the next few days and will let you know what I think. I had perused through Chapter six first, and it reads well with me. I don’t know if you were able to read this, but I did write a post

285 MARLENE AGUILAR on my blog about Jason’s plight. I am resending you the link just in case you haven’t seen it. Until today, I think if media portrayed the real Jason, he would have gotten more sympathy and less of the judgment calls he received then. As always, let me tell you how big a fan I am and continue to join you in your quest for justice. http://antonisat.blogspot.com/2010/01/inncent-man.html” Immediately, I clicked on the link he sent me. After reading it, I sent Anton this message. “The date today is June 26, 2012. I’m in an isolated beach in Grand Turk, Turks and Caicos, Caribbean. I just read your blog Anton. What a mind you have. It gives me hope that the Philippines has a chance for a better future, because there are people like you out there. Know that you have touched my heart with the article you have written, and because of that, in me you will always find an ally. How brave you are.” Many of Jsin’s haters in cyberspace call him a murderer, including a man named Sean who attacked my son on Anton De Leon’s blog. This was my message to him. By the way, this case involving this car accident against Jsin went all the way to Supreme Court. “Sean, you should know that the 2004 incident you’re talking about was a multiple car accident, involving at least four vehicles, including a truck. Ivler’s Prado was hit from behind, which threw him to the wrong side of the road. Apparently, you are unaware that there is no ‘murder charge’ involving vehicular accidents. Unfortunately, as in the case of most people, you swallow whatever the media shoves down your throat. The Ponce’s demanded that I pay them 5 million pesos for settlement. I didn’t settle, because I believed that truth would prevail. And it did. Four years later, we won the case against them. The Supreme Court pronounced Jason Ivler innocent! The problem with people like you is you judge so

286 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS harshly despite the fact that YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE TRUTH SURROUNDING MY LIFE OR JASON IVLER’S LIFE FOR THAT MATTER.” June 27, 2012, tears roll down my eyes as typed the date today. This was my wedding day many years ago. This was the day I married Robert Ivler, Jason’s father on the beach of Stamford, Connecticut facing the home of his parents Barbara and William Ivler. Suddenly, I remember that fateful day of my life so clearly, the waves of the Caribbean waters splashing gently against the shore in front of me, refreshing my memory. Meanwhile, I hear the sound of the Atlantic Ocean in my head as well, coming to me from another time, another life. I spent so many summers on that beach in Connecticut, the images of which are now flashing in my head. I see myself standing on the wooden terrace facing the Atlantic, yelling at little Jason and Colby swimming in the ocean, while Bill Ivler stood to my left grilling hamburgers for lunch. “Jason! Colby! Get out of the water, lunch in five minutes!” I hollered. Then I’d watch them head toward the house to join Barbara, Bill and myself to eat. When the boys and I moved to the Philippines in 1991, we lived in a place called Gilmore Townhomes in San Juan. When I showed them around our new home, my sons asked,”Where’s the beach?” While living in the US they had two homes, mine in Sterling, Massachusetts located on the lake, and their grandparents’ home located on the Atlantic coast, facing Long Island sound. I didn’t realize it then, in their young minds they thought everyone lived on the water, because they did. It was the life they knew. They were not pleased to find out that at Gilmore Townhomes, all we got was a swimming pool. On top of that, all the others living in this gated community shared the small facility.

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I have craved living on the beach since the day we moved back to the Philippines. I have missed the sound of the ocean close to me. I have been in Grand Turk for three weeks. In the living room and the kitchen, I hear the sound of the waves. And I hear it in the bedroom too when the door to the terrace is open. Here, the first thing I do in the morning is run downstairs. I open the door that leads me to the terrace, and there I take a deep breath while filling my soul with the sight of the glorious ocean embracing my senses. Then I look up at the heavens and say,”Thank you, for all this.” Steve and I have decided to move here, away from the polluted and overcrowded Metro Manila. Like I mentioned earlier, I met Deborah, the realty broker who lives near our apartment. She also owns Sandbar. Yesterday, she picked up Steve, Maya and myself at around 5pm, and drove us all around Grand Turk. From the car, she showed us the properties available for purchase. She thought it was best to first give us an overview of all the real estate on the market. “I’ll show you what’s available. Then you can decide which ones you’re interested in. And those are the places I’d take you to tour,” Deborah told us. She showed us over a dozen places for sale. Out of those Steve and I chose three that we were interested in. So today Deborah will pick us up once more to visit those three places, so we can give them a closer inspection. The more I see Grand Turk, the more I love this place. But, you could never appreciate the magic of this island unless you can put the material world behind. Last night, I saw John Young at Sandbar. He wore a brown baseball cap, white shirt with short sleeves that looked like it was just ironed, a pair of tired camouflage shorts and black leather

288 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS slippers. Somehow the whole dress didn’t go together. The white top reminds me of shirts members of the Mormon Church wear while they go door-to-door selling the name of god. It didn’t go with the military inspired shorts. He sat with Steve and I, drinking and talking. Suddenly, a tall and skinny, colored man came to talk with Steve. He reeked of alcohol. In the meantime, I had this conversation with John. His narrative is in Italics. “Do you know Jim Baker?” “No, but I’ve heard his name.” “I met him here recently and we had a wonderful conversation. Outside of the governor, he’s the most interesting man I’ve met in Grand Turk. Both men are not only intelligent, they have passion.” “Are you serious? The governor is a prick!” “He must have been a prick to you, but he wasn’t to me. I’m sure he showed you a different side to him than what he showed me.” Without warning, the tall man interrupted.”Ric Todd is a spy,” he uttered swallowing his words. I loathed his presence. He is the icon of doomed souls. I tried my best to ignore the man’s presence as best I can. Medea inside me was dying to impale him. “What does he mean the governor is a spy?” “He was a spy. He worked for MI6.” “Doing what?” “Doing nothing! I don’t like the man!” “What do you mean he was a spy? Why do you use the past tense?” “Because he’s no longer with MI6. He’s here now messing up this place!” “Silly, once a spy, always a spy. He’s not bad. Believe me, I’ve seen men in his position. Most of the time, they’re bald, fat, brainless, and they’re full of shit. You could have gotten someone a lot worse than him.”

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“He’s not going to do good for this place, because he doesn’t give a shit.” “Yes he does, mentally he does. The man has a very good mind, and he will do with this place the best he can.” June 28, 2012, I cry as I type the next words. Here is my headline on FB this morning. “EVERYONE - Jason Ivler’s fan page has been deleted upon his request. I want to take this time to thank each and every one of you for the courageous and kind support you have given my family and me during the darkest times of our lives. You will always have my gratitude and love. Jsin’s Army, you are now SHE DRAGON’S ARMY.” Kenjie Salazar asked,”What happened?” I stated,”When Jsin is out, you can ask him. I don’t want to speak for Jsin. Let him speak for himself. He was framed by the RP government because of the book I wrote against the Philippines and the US. So this is my FIGHT, not his. He should be left alone. As far as I’m concerned he’s suffered too much already.” Geo-will Orinion Bungay wrote,”Still aiming high. Salute! Cheer up! Kuya jason is still number one. And to mother She Dragon I still see you flyin’, roamin’ in the sky. Love ya, JSIN ROCKS HANG2ANG MAMATAY!” Paulo Jay Villanueva stated,”Salute to the brave She Dragon and Jsin! God bless your family. She dragon Rock’s the world!” Kent Dujali, another genuine Ilocano commented,”Sad, but we have to respect his request.” “All falls under the will of heaven. And I’m nothing but a pawn to its divine forces. MY FIGHT GOES ON!!!” was my reply to Kent. Ian Simon declared,”With or without the fan page, I’m here to stay.”

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Pozwicca Sam wrote,”We don’t need the fan page. We’re not just fans. We love you and your family!” When the admin of Jason Ivler’s fan page called me to tell me he wanted to delete it, I wept, and I wept hard. Jsin’s Army was my armor, and that fan page was their home. When I managed it, we use to get 500K viewers a day. The number one newspaper in the country, Philippine Daily Inquirer, only has 150K daily subscribers. Imagine that. There I was for many months talking to the young nation, urging them to fight for a better future, for a better Philippines. However, Jason Ivler and I don’t see eye-to-eye on many issues regarding his fan page. So, now that it is gone, my heart breaks once more. It feels like death to me, the death of that community page. Still, I have to respect my son’s wish. After all, he is right. The page carries his name. So he decided its fate. Earlier on, while visiting Jsin in jail, he did tell me he wanted to delete his fan page. “That fan page protects me and your family,” I said to him. “How does it protect you?” he asked. “If you can’t see that the allegiance of 107 thousand supporters protects your family and me, then we’ll just have to disagree,” I replied. “It’s just the fan page I’m closing down. Your supporters are still there,” he answered. “I know. Plus, it’s heaven’s will,” I stated. Last night, after dining at the Sandbar with Maya and Steve, I met a very special man, a kindred soul. How rare they are to find. His name is Jim Baker. He looks to me like an African American. Here is part of the conversation we had. “I see you are volatile,” I said to him. “Is that bad?” he uttered gently, his eyes glowing from within.

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“No, it gives balance to your gentleness,” I answered. “May I see your palm?” I asked. Immediately, he gave me his right hand, then his left hand. “What you show the world, the face you show the world, is very different from the person inside you. You hide the best part of you. You were separated from a parent when you were growing up. You have suffered great losses and pain. But like me, you are able to convert pain into power. Nothing defeats you because pain empowers you. You are braver than most. You have loved 2 women. But your relationships didn’t work out. These women could never understand you. How could they? Look around you. Look at those people at the bar. Most people in this world are just numbers. Their lives are inconsequential. They are not leaders like you and I.” “You’ve made some things about my life clearer to me. But how do you know all this?” he asked. “Because we are kindred souls. And I’m clairvoyant. I see you from within, and not without,” I said. “What about my business? Do you see anything?” he queried. “You belong to the ocean, which is more unforgiving than the earth. You will continue to face difficulties, and you will continue to power through them, like you have powered through all the trials you faced in the past. We are old souls, you see. That means, the difficulties and challenges we will encounter in this life are far greater than those of others,” I explained. “Part of me wants to share with you the pain and losses I’ve dealt with but I feel you already know,” he uttered softly. “I don’t see you from without, I see you from within. Did you ever wonder why, considering this is the first time we’re meeting,

292 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS we can talk so openly with each other, yet there are people you’ve known for many years and you’ve never had conversations such as this with them? It’s because this is not the first time we’re meeting each other.” He smiled a warm smile, and said,”When Steve told me about you, I felt I wanted to meet you then. We were suppose to eat in another restaurant, but something pushed me to come here instead.” “Look at the sand, every particle is there for a reason. Look at the tree. Every leaf is there for a reason. Everything here on earth and beyond is there in its exact place, at this exact time, because it was meant to be there. They are part of the grand design. You and I are here right this moment, because we were always meant to have this conversation. I am here to confirm some issues inside you. I am here to erase your doubts, hence you grow.” “Are you also volatile?” he asked smiling gently.”Yes, you are volatile,” he answered his own question. “In me, there is everything. I have infinite blackness and lightness, and I can go from one extreme to the other. But whichever way I go, I have the ability to return to the center as I wish. Yes, I am volatile. I am more emotional than most people. But my emotions don’t own me. They don’t control me. On the contrary, I use them as instruments.” Jim Baker and I had one of those magical conversations, which I will always remember. When we said goodbye, we embraced each other hard. I said to him,”Thank you for meeting me again in this lifetime.” Recently, I received this message on FB, from a special young man who calls himself Irvan. Here is our conversation on the Internet. “Hello po Miss Marlene! I just wanna say you are truly one of my idols. Because of you, I was inspired to write for a cause.

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I am HIV positive. I am only 21 years old, but it did not stop me from writing for a purpose. I am using my skills in writing for HIV/ AIDS advocacy. Just the way you are doing with your talents as a writer. I admire you so much because you clamor for change, the same with me. Always keep writing po. You are my idol. I have a pseudonym po. Irvan. Here are my articles online. It would be an honor if you would look at them. I just wanna say thank you for being wonderful!” “Keep fighting. Never give up. Thank you for writing to me, and being honest I don’t really know what to say, but your words put me to tears. You shine from within.” “Miss Marlene, I am really indebted to you. Your courage to write really helped me become the writer I am now. Your fearlessness is what inspired me to always be brave, and face everything. Thank you for touching my life, even though we haven’t met in person. Stay as you are always. By the way, Miss Marlene, where can I get your books? I am really a lover of art, and I am an artist myself. I have been looking for your books on art for a long time. Where can I get copies of them?” “I am now in Grand Turk, Caribbean. But if you come and see me in Blue Ridge when I return, I will give you my books for free. BTW, have you read my autobiographies Warriors of Heaven and Tales of the Black Widow? The chapters are available for free from my website.” “I’ll try to visit you Miss Marlene, maybe next year. I am still very fragile. I am prone to infections now, so I never leave the house. But I promise I will see you, because I really want to shake your hand. Yes, I am reading them. I really love your autobiographies!”

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“If you send me your mailing address, I’ll have my staff send you a couple of my art books for free. When you are finished with Tales of the Black Widow, I want to send you chapters of Bringer of Death, book 3 of my life story. I want to know what you think of it. I’m writing book 4 now, Condemned by Millions. When I hear that my writing has inspired others, my broken heart leaps with joy. I have paid a great price for my freedom. And the fact that my life gives strength to others makes my immense pain easier to bear. Thank you.” Sunday, July 1, 2012, yesterday Maya, Steve and I went to a place called Cee’s to do some grocery shopping. One of the few things that I find disappointing with Grand Turk is that fresh produce is scarce. The Philippines, considering its small size, compared to China, Brazil, Australia and the United States of America, is one of the top three wealthiest nations in the world in natural resources. The latter four countries I mentioned are in the top 10 for natural abundance. Because of this, our wet markets and food stores are filled with a bountiful selection of fruits, seafood, vegetables and meat, everyday. In this Caribbean island, I had to go to three stores to find frozen shrimp. Cee’s had some tiger shrimp, which were specially ordered I was told. This is something I would never even consider buying in the Philippines since I hate frozen produce. As we walked to the parking lot heading toward our car, I noticed a bald, overweight Caucasian man in his early 60s, around 5'7" in height, wearing oversized white T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. He carried a plastic bag with his right hand. When I think of him now, all I can see is his lobster-red skinhead, roasted by the sun, and his large gut protruding far out of his body, claiming to the world he’s a glutton.

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Steve unlocked the car door to the driver’s side, and I stepped inside the vehicle, following Maya. I noticed the man came over and said a few words to my partner, but I couldn’t hear their conversation. When Steve got in the car, I asked,”Who is that man?” “He’s the head of the law office for TCI,” he replied. TCI stands for Turks and Caicos Islands. “Really? He’s a high-ranking British official? I thought he was a lost tourist,” I stated. “He is a lost tourist,” Steve said. “He looks like a lost soul to me. I wonder how he does his job,” I added. “He doesn’t. He has a bunch of islanders doing the work for him. I don’t really know what he does,” Steve uttered. After dinner, Steve, Maya and I visited a building next to our apartment that is for sale. The structure, which was designed to have six 2-bedroom apartments, was abandoned before it was finished and so the staircase leading to the 2nd level only had a few thin wooden slabs, which were placed over the wrought-iron frame. Steve and I toured the lower level of the place. “Don’t go up those steps. They don’t look safe,” he warned me as I walked toward the unfinished staircase. The flight of steps looked as if had been dreadfully damaged by a bomb. “I wonder if I should climb with my heels, or bare feet,” I announced smiling. “You shouldn’t,” Steve warned me again. So, I took my shoes off, holding them with my right hand, and I proceeded to climb to the unknown, carefully balancing myself on pieces of three-inch wooden planks nailed diagonally to god knows where. I looked behind me, and I saw Steve attempting to follow me. “You can’t come! I’m only 98 pounds! You’re heavier than me!

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The wood might break on you!” I yelled. I continued my ascent, being careful as I took every step. I don’t know what it is with me, but the feeling of danger actually excites me. Finally, I landed on the 2nd level of this waterfront building. There, I was so disappointed to see that the magnificent view of the ocean was blocked from the units. I stood there thinking of breaking the walls down to allow the image of Mother Ocean to command the place. I looked into every room, and noticed that the bathrooms were puny. How could people design a living space without putting importance on the rooms where people bathe? The bathroom to me is a place of sanctuary. Taking a bath is a divine moment of relaxation, a private time of contemplation and sometimes, meditation. It is a time I treasure. When I was done, I headed back to the beaten-up staircase. Looking down I thought, it was easier to climb up than to come down. How the hell am I going to go down these steps now? I asked myself in silence. I took my first step with my right foot, tiptoeing because that was all the piece of wood could take. It couldn’t hold my whole foot. I stood there concentrating, and balancing myself, still holding my shoes with my right hand. Suddenly, Maya yelled,”Mom! Be careful!” “Maya, please be quiet! I can’t concentrate if you talk to me,” I warned my daughter. She stood there next to her father, both holding their breath as I tried to get myself back into their reality. I forgot to tell you, we have a brown dog now that comes to the house every day. We feed her, and give her water. Maya plays with her, as well. We call her Brownie, and she has adopted us. She follows us on the beach, and she’s followed us to tour this ruin. So, Brownie stood with Maya and Steve, also watching. As I took the steps ahead of me gently, my mind wandered back to the Fitness

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First gym at Eastwood City. I am deeply grateful to my personal trainers for toning my body, making it fit. Today, I am stronger and fitter than I have ever been in my life. I am certainly, stronger and fitter than most women, regardless of age. Eventually, I landed back on the ground. After that, we decided to go to the Bohio Resort for drinks and watch the live band that performs there every Saturday evening. On our way to Bohio, Steve and I had this conversation in the car. “What did you think of the property?” he asked. “It’s a mess. They blocked the ocean view. It’s like whoever designed it had absolutely no idea that the most precious part of that land is the ocean view! It drives me nuts. The layout of the place is so wrong,” I answered. “Well, whoever designed it must have lived here all his life. Maybe he’s never traveled,” he stated. On Friday before lunch, we had Deborah over at our apartment. Steve and I discussed with her our ideas regarding purchasing property in Grand Turk. Earlier, she had shown us a property that used to be used as a bank. The structure is located on prime beach front, where the view is just spectacular. I’d say this is one of the best locations in Grand Turk. “We decided not to purse the bank property. It’s a recorded asset on the banks books. They don’t need to sell it. They’ll never write it down to its actual current market value. The property is a corporate asset, which is going to affect its balance sheet. If the bank accepted the true market value, then that would make the books and the manager look bad,” Steve explained to Deborah. “Plus, there’s only one thing you could do with that house. Burn it. The structure is wrong; it doesn’t showcase the view of the ocean.

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Plus the ceiling is so low, making me claustrophobic. And it’s only around 260 square meters. That’s the size of a garage in wealthy areas in Metro Manila,” I told her. July 2, 2012, I’m sitting on the terrace once again, writing this novel facing the majestic ocean of the Caribbean. It’s a glorious day here. It couldn’t be better. Last night, after dinner, we went to the Bohio. While we walked into the restaurant of the resort that is located on its courtyard elevated on a wooden deck, I noticed a Caucasian couple sitting at the one side of the long rectangular bar facing our direction. Later, I realized that the man is one of the Brits who works with Steve. He waved at us, as did his wife. Steve and I waved back. Recently, I became aware that the people working with Steve became nicer to my husband and me after the Governor sat with us during that one evening at Sandbar. Steve and I continued to walk and headed to the farthest end of the bar close to the beach. There we sat on high stools with our backs against the ocean, facing the live saxophone performer. This area has a counter that could only accommodate three people, which makes it a perfect spot for Steve, Maya and myself. Our daughter, as always, ran ahead to go to the beach. The British couple who were in their 50s sat to our left. I noticed another couple to my right facing them directly. The second couple were hamburgers on stilts, tourists. They were not talking to each other, for some reason. Thank god. Steve ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for us. During the hot weather, we prefer to drink chilled white wine. Meanwhile, I noticed another couple, walking toward our side of the bar. They took the table closest to me, to my right. The Caucasian man who was in his 50s, 5’8” in height, wore a turquoise golf T-shirt with stripes and

299 MARLENE AGUILAR shorts, along with his gold wedding ring. He had his head shaved close to his skin leaving only a quarter of an inch length of hair all around his skull. He was very cheerful. The Caucasian woman with him was a few years younger. She had short hair down to her ears; she wore a black dress with ruffles and floral print, along with black leather slippers. I looked at her face but I don’t really know how to describe it. Give me a moment to think. How would I describe this female? Well, if she stood in the middle of a cornfield, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and the corn stalks. She would blend right in. Judging from their demeanor, this man and woman were not husband and wife. They did not move with freedom and ease. They carried on looking like they were hiding something from the world. They whispered to each other at the table. I think they were Canadian. “Look at this couple next to me,” I said to Steve.”They’re not husband and wife. That’s his mistress.” “You’re right. They don’t look like husband and wife,” he replied. The man was doing most of the talking, looking overly cheerful and excited. He was in lust. As I watched them at the perimeter of my eye, I wondered about his wife. “Like so many women, she’s just in it for the ride. She got herself a free trip to the Caribbean. He just wants to get laid,” I told my partner. “Where do you think they met?” Steve asked. “That’s his secretary, silly. There’s something about her demeanor that tells me she’s used to serving the man. .You know, one of my dearest friends had a deep relationship with an American Jewish man. He was married. And right from the start, he told her he loved her, but he loved his wife too, but in a different way. And he was not going to leave his wife for her. He

300 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS promised her he would take care of her, nevertheless,” I stated. “Really?” My partner asked.”I can only love one woman at a time.” “He did take care of her, as promised. Their relationship lasted for 15 years. It ended only when he died. She has never been able to replace him since. When we go out, she still talks to me frequently about him. She misses him terribly. I think he saw his wife as his mother, and he saw her as his lover. He loved them both but in entirely different ways. He needed them both. I think the story is beautiful. Love comes in different shapes and forms. Plus, from my experience, American Jewish men take care of their lovers like you wouldn’t believe. They spoil them like children,” I said. Honestly, in this particular setup, if I were to choose between being the lover of this Jewish man, or his wife, I’d rather be the mistress. But then, the words husband and wife sound like a prison sentence to me. Often during my talk with Steve, I would glance behind me checking on our daughter. This time I found her walking back and forth on the beach. She would run, too. I glanced behind me this time, and I realized that the breathtaking sun was setting. In the meantime, Maya knelt joyfully on the sand, petting three Caribbean dogs that surrounded her. These animals gather around her each time she’s at the Bohio, beseeching her attention and care, which she gives them so generously with great pleasure. I stared at my daughter for a moment. She was definitely born with magic. Like me, she is close to the spirit world. She is one with nature, and all that is. She is free. How compassionate and giving she is, I thought. There she was, caressing the dogs while talking to them. She had both her arms

301 MARLENE AGUILAR stretched out, scratching their bellies one after the other, making sure each one got the same amount of kindness from her loving hands. How divine she looked. I asked Steve for his camera so I could take photos of Maya petting the animals. Later, on their way out, and as was expected, Steve’s peer stopped by with his wife to say good-bye to us. The well-mannered Brits are so into proper conduct, and totally the opposite of the hamburgers on stilts in civil demeanor. Suddenly, a tired English man in his late 50s with over grown hair, which looked like he never combs it, stood to my right. He gazed directly into Steve’s eyes contemplating what small-talk he could summon from his subtle and British background, his big gut protruding assailing my presence, brushing against the side of the soft wooden bar, endangering its delicate and natural finish. His wife, who looked older than old, wore thick glasses, and looked more tired than him. She stood less than 12” away from me, assaulting my privacy. She had triple chin, long unwashed, wavy, gray and stringy hair that came down below her shoulders. Although she wore an oversized top, she couldn’t camouflage the fact that her large stomach came from the same bad diet as his. Her dark gray, cheesy and floral printed blouse was paired with equally dark gray, cheesy and floral printed long skirt. Her garb reminded me of what my grandmother used to wear when she was having a bad day. She wore some kind of brown leather sandals no person with any taste would ever wear. Although she had been living in Grand Turk for a year, she looks like she’s never spent a day in the sun. In addition, her skin was wrinkled and loose. She radiated the very pale and bloodless image of a ghost that had soaked itself in a tub of chlorine for a week. To top it all, she had bad teeth. One of her front teeth was as dark as my ebony hair. You probably think I’m making this up. Unfortunately, I am not. Okay, let me rephrase

302 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS that last statement. That tooth of hers wasn’t as black as my hair it was medium gray. Several other women I’ve seen in Grand Turk married to Caucasian men look like they came from the same UFO this one came from. The reason these two people make me sick is because we have seen them a number of times before, and they have kept their distance from us. But now things have changed since we were seen in public chatting with Ric Todd. I believe, if it was not because the Governor was fond of Steve and I, these vermin wouldn’t come to say a word at all. So, there they were, this British couple doing their nice deed, standing before us to give us some false pleasantries, attacking the very essence of our peaceful existence. I could feel the discomfort of both of them as they tried to fulfill what they thought was proper decorum. “How much longer are you staying?” the male asked my partner. “My contract ends August 25th, but I may stay longer. Marlene would like that,” Steve answered. “Are you enjoying your stay in Grand Turk,” the woman uttered gently, forcing a fake smile. Meanwhile, I could feel her uneasiness. Plus, I could hear her thoughts. “Why do I have to talk to this slant-eyed woman with big tattoos on her arms? This poor thing, why would she do such a hideous act to herself? People with tattoos are outcasts where I come from. And I have to stand here and be nice to this creature. The things I do for my husband,” I heard her say to herself in silence as she stood close to me. Meanwhile, Medea within me could smell the woman’s rotten spirit.”This one is ugly inside and out. Let me strangle her, and hang her upside down on top of the lamp post,” she hissed.

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“I love Grand Turk!” I told the British zombie with a great big smile on my face, staring into her eyes, behaving myself.”We’ve actually been looking at properties for sale here.” In my mind, and in silence, I told her, ”Honey, you look like a spare actor from a horror movie. You remind me of Chuckie from the movie Child’s Play. You must be his mother!” When the decorous Brits left, Steve and I had this conversation sitting at the bar, drinking our white wine, while listening to the sax musician. “Why would a man end up with a scary looking woman like that?” I asked. “Because, no one else would love him,” Steve replied. “If I were a man, I’d rather cut my dick off than have sex with that animal! But, if I were a woman, I’d cut his dick off rather than have sex with him,” I declared. “I think my colleagues and their wives have a hard time accepting you,” uttered Steve. “The world has a hard time accepting me,” I responded. “Seriously, they don’t know what to make of you,” he stated. “Why, because, I don’t exist in their little world? They think I’m your trophy wife, yet they can’t ignore the fact that I have all these talents and credentials to back me up. Whereas, those men you work with are, for the most part, married to fat zombies who’ve done shit in their lives. They walk around polluting the earth with their ugly presence!” I stated. “It will certainly make them feel better to think you’re just a pretty face. But you are a trophy wife anyway. Look at you,” he said laughing. “You know, my dance trainer Jackie told me once that some women in the gym wear shorts like the ones I’m wearing now.

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And she said when they do; they look like they’re looking for men, hungry for sex. But when I wear skimpy shorts, Jackie said I don’t look like I’m hunting for men,” I uttered giggling. “Except those men would wish you were looking for their attention,” Steve responded with a smirk. “You’re so funny,” I said laughing. “I think people wonder about your presence in my life, no matter where we go,” he said. “In the Philippines, they think I married you for your money. Like Susan from ADB who once told me you must be very rich, thinking that’s why I’m with you. Jesus, financially you’re one of the poorest of my lovers. I had a billionaire ask me to have his child in the past. And in exchange he’d take care of me for the rest of my life. I turned it down. If women knew the kind of offers I got from my ex-lovers, they wouldn’t believe it. Worst, they’d find it harder to believe I left them! Unlike this bitch secretary here siting next to me, fucking her boss so she could take free vacations, I wouldn’t be with a man because of his money,” I professed. “If you were after a man’s money, you wouldn’t be with me today,” Steve affirmed. Last night, after dinner, while facing my laptop at the dining table, I received a message from Jesuke, one of my soul children. She and Jsin had previously had some altercation. Here is a portion of her message: “Mommy, I miss you so much. I can’t help but miss you everyday of my life. Whatever happened between J and me has nothing to do with our relationship. I want to see you. I miss talking to you. I will always be loyal to you and that will never change. I will never betray you. I had to stay quiet for a while, but I hope to visit

305 MARLENE AGUILAR you during my day off. I love you so much.” I cried while reading her message. Jesuke and I have shared something so intense, most people would never experience. I couldn’t love her more, if she were my flesh and blood. Instantly, I wrote her back and said: “My beautiful and brave soul child, I will always love you, no matter what. You defended me and protected me when the whole world was against me. And for you, I will do the same. Know that; know that my heart belongs to you. Tears.” “Mom, why are you crying?” Maya asked concerned. “Oh, I received a message from Jesuke that made me cry,” I answered. “Are those happy tears or sad tears?” she inquired. “Happy tears,” I replied smiling. Before I left for the Caribbean, Diane came to the house at around 5pm to pick me up. We were going to dinner at Fireplace. I had been on the phone when she arrived, so I wasn’t dressed yet. It isn’t a problem. Like Maya says, it takes me 10 minutes to get ready. After Diane and I greeted each other, I gave her my laptop. “Here,” I said.”This is Chapter 2. It’s really about you. Read it while I take a shower and get dressed.” “Wow!” she uttered.”Okay Tita.” When I came out all dressed, I found her still sitting at the dining table where I left her. “What do you think?” I asked her. “Tita, I don’t know what to say. I’m famous now ‘cause I’m in your book! I love it! I’m going to show the book to my Mom, and my brother. And I’m going to say, see I’m famous, and you’re not!” she stated giggling like a child. “I think our conversations make my book interesting. People will

306 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS learn from it. Where are they going to find people like you and me, talking so openly the way we do? You’re my son’s girlfriend. Like you say, we’re supposed to hate each other!” I declared laughing. “It’s true Tita. I tell my friends about us and they don’t get it,” she said.”Tita, how do you remember the things we talked about? You wrote what we said to each other like you recorded them.” “Actually, Tita Becca said the same thing about the narrative between she and I in my books. She said, she doesn’t’ know how I could recall conversations that happened between us so clearly. It’s really only Jsin that’s a pain in the ass regarding conversations between he and I. I’m writing these novels to understand better what happened to me, hoping my life and my pain inspires others. My life is so bizarre and crazy, if I didn’t stick to the truth, I’d be the first to suffer. BTW, I feel OK about going away, knowing you’re there to take care of Jsin. Thank you,” I told Diane. Back in Grand Turk I could feel the spirit of Diane surrounding me while I wrote about her. She must be thinking about me, I thought. Then I left my laptop to go upstairs to get my black sneakers. I need them for exercise before lunch. I dance an hour a day. I also do some yoga and abs work out. It’s all I can do while I’m away from my trainers. On the way down the stairs, I noticed I had a message on my mobile phone. I opened the message, and there I saw Diane’s text to me.”Tita, belated happy birthday. I tried to text you several times but my messages wouldn’t get through. I miss you and love you so much.” I replied to her at once and wrote,”Thank you. I miss you and love you, too. I was just writing about you.” July 3, 2012, it’s 7:04am in Grand Turk. I am sitting in the same spot listening to the gentle waves caressing the shore. One of those

307 MARLENE AGUILAR massive and ugly cruise ships is passing by toward my left heading for the cruise center. Here is my FB headline this morning, which I posted just now. The comments are preceded by the name of the person who wrote the remarks. I will include them in succession as they came on to my wall. For those of you who don’t know Tagalog, Tita is auntie, Ate is sister, and Nanay and Inay, mean mother. “Some of you write to me and confide in me. Some of you ask me for advice, and I try my best to give you the best part of my mind, and my heart. Some of you call me Tita, some of you call me Mommy, some of you call me Ate, some of you call me sister, some of you call me idol, some of you call me Nanay, some of you call me Inay, and that makes me very happy. I’d like to ask you a question. What is it that you admire about me? Thank you.”

Allen Cuentas –”You’re fearless.” Tricia Costales –”Your intelligence and honesty.” Paul Jasper Espero Banares –”You’re smart.” Jesuke Capuz –”You are brave, beautiful, exceptional in mind. You have it all.” Xtella Sala –”YOU’RE VERY TRANSPARENT, NO PRETENTIONS AT ALL!” Jesuke Capuz –”Plus, she’s very dangerous, so motha’ fuckers should never mess with her!” Leslie Mae Vinuya –”I admire you mom for being true to yourself, and for being an open-minded person. ª” Joe Lopez Lumasac –”Kasi ikaw ang the best Mom na nakilala namin at may tiwala kami sa inyo.” (You are the best Mom we know and we trust you.”

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Stevenson Belinario –”Because you’re the mother of Jsin. :D” Chris Ortiz –”You’re a strong fighter.” Catherine Jaime –”Marlene aguilar is Marlene Aguilar ;) ª Totoong tao, walang kaplastikan.,waLang ka ek-ekan, admirable nman kasi talaga. We all love you for being you. I salute you idol.” It’s difficult to translate the Tagalog portion of this narrative in English, because she used Swarding. Totoong tao means genuine person. Vicente”Jun” Javier –”You have iron balls, sweet sis.” Lea Positibo Uno –”You are genuine, Mom.” Mela Reyes –”Your honesty.” Mimi Malana –”You’re the best Mami, beautiful without pretentions.” Dian Helterbrand –”Very smart and not pretentious.” Anton Abella –”You’re a fighter, loving and beautiful! You’re the best Nanay in the whole fucking universe!” Aimee Rivadillo –”Everything. I love you with no conditions.” Ian Simon –”You possess something only She Dragon could own.” Amy Bathory –”You have freedom in everything.” Maria Rachelle Manzano –”GIVING in all senses, with ideas, experiences, also with material things. I feel that you find happiness in your heart when you give something to a person you like or to a person that has learned from you. I wish the whole world to see how beautiful you are inside & out. . . :) & one thing more.. I love how you value time :) I love you.” April Mecaros –”The intelligence that you possess, which others think they have, but they don’t - the kind that connects to the souls of your loved ones. I feel that all the time whenever I confide in you. All my love. ª” Nea Dizer –”TRUE...no pretensions at all! You say what’s on your mind and you’re not scared or afraid of what others would think! You’re smart and articulate! And you’re a cool mom :) And Tita

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I like the fact that you’re not a snob even though you’re famous! Others allow their fame to get to their head! Stay humble, true and beautiful po! More power! God bless!” Michael Permejo –”Simple. You’re a very strong woman.” Paulix Lendell –”..for having an open mind and hating society…” Sheryll Joy –”For me you’re a superwoman. Everything that you’ve said is true. Plus what I really like about you is you’re very considerate, and you’re a down-to-earth person. Some artists don’t have these kinds of qualities, but the AGUILAR family is really exceptional. Your clan is always ready to help everyone, in art and in life!!! Marlene stay sweet and strong, as you are!!!” EB Menjares –”I admire the she dragon for being herself. She speaks her mind, being straightforward. Fuck the system.” Michael Stewart –”It’s your love and compassion for all walks of life, plus you are unique and original in a world plagued by clones and drones.” Maria Isabelle San Mateo –”Tita, what I admire about you most is your spiritual intellect, your strength, your character, your greatness of being a mother and mentor, the freedom in your soul (that many thirst for)... the first time I met you Tita, I don’t know what exactly it is that I felt... during my troubled times when you held my hand, you calmed me. I felt peace. I also remember you telling me things about my future, and I never expected those things to happen but they did... There’s just something in you I cannot put into mere words... I just felt you. In a short period of time, you made a mark in my life, and I have and will never forget you. ª” Michellena – Cruz Bambo –”I admire you because you give us words of encouragement. You provide support & comfort to others. You share your wisdom and experiences. You have demonstrated creativity and ability to solve tough challenges. You have brought

310 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS integrity and honor to what you do, you have made tough decisions, and in public you said what needed to be said. I admire you, especially for your kindness and sweetness.” Rosanna Villegas –” For being the real you. You’ve no pretentions...” Donnasarah Albarquez –”The whole you inside and out has absolutely no falseness.” Kim de la Torre- Räikkonen –”Being witty & fearless. I admire your point of views. You’re not afraid to speak out. I admire the way you see things especially on being a”mother”. I would love to know and feel what it is to be like your daughter. :)” Eunice Matampale Llarena-”Maybe, it’s the way you speak. The government says Filipinos have freedom of speech, but it seems to me you are the only one ever to claim this freedom. You always say what’s on your mind po, without hesitations. That’s what makes you a real Filipina.” Mhel Franko Bajas II –”All the things that you do Tita and the way you open our minds to endless possibilities. :D” Jarmy A. de Jesus –”I admire you for being you.” Gravedigazz Bradly –”kulang ang lahat ng salita para ilarawan ang isang tulad nyo mom marlene isa kang mabuti ina sa aming lahat, salamat mom:]:” (Words are not enough to describe someone like you Mom Marlene. You are a good mother to all of us. Thank you Mom.) Hynnah Esteba Hirose”Your intellect, determination and you’re a woman of principles. I admire you for being you Ms. Marlene Aguilar -She Dragon.” Xy-Zha Sison Cabanlong -”It is with no doubt that I admire your strong character and how you love your children unconditionally, Tita, you are the epitome of a modern day Gabriela Silang if I may say so.” April Beckhamster –”Your guts po ma’am. People might think you’re

311 MARLENE AGUILAR crazy and different, but for me you’re one true person. Perhaps they should learn to know you better.” Joyce Brauer –”Idol for me there are no words that could describe you. Everything you say pierces through our hearts. I can’t compare you because for me you are the only She Dragon of the new generation. That’s why I love you so much idol.” Paulie Caoili –”Resilience and genuine totality of a truthful state of being!!!” Ricardo V. Rey jr. –”Tita.. I admire your balls and how you fight for truth and love.” Pozwicca Sam Queen –”You know who you are Mom. You don’t have to ask. :)

I replied to Pozwica and wrote: “I know who I am that’s true. However, I want to know how people see me, specially my supporters. I want to understand them better. :D” She replied and stated: “That’s exactly the reason why I admire you. Because YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. You know where and when to stand. You know when to use your strengths, and how to manage your weaknesses as well. That’s why you’re invincible. :)” The people who commented above that know me personally are my baby dragons Anton Abella, Aimee Rivadillo, Jesuke Capuz, Ian Simon, Xy-Zha Sison Cabanlong, Chris Ortiz and Anton Abella. Maria Rachelle Manzano’s company makes the paper bags for Café Carusso and they do an excellent job. Mind you, I am not easy to please. I have asked her to come meet me in my home to bring me samples of their products because I wanted a paper bag made for Jsin’s T-shirts and my CD’s. My secretary Mary Jean urged her to

312 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS come on time, and told her how I absolutely hate it when people are late for appointments. Sheryll Joy has been active on Jsin’s fan page for some time. She’s designed a number of graphic images for us, one of which I printed on T-shirts. She attended my Concert At The Park where we met. She also met my niece Maegan Aguilar, my nephew JC Rey Hipolito and my brother in-law Abhe that day. She took photos and videos of the show and posted them on YouTube I never met EB Menjares in person, but he met Steve when he worked at the Asian Development Bank as a technical assistant. He helped set up my partners IBM computer. Maria Isabelle San Mateo said we met. But, I truly don’t remember. I’ve met so many friends of my sons, nephews and nieces in different clubs. I would sometimes watch members of my family perform live music. And on these occasions, I would meet their peers. There must have been something special within Maria Isabelle, because I did my reading of her. I don’t look into the soul of a person deeply unless I find it worth my time. As far as I’m concerned most people are trash for the earth to bear. I posted this message below as my headline on FB a few days ago, and several people have re-posted it on their wall, including Aichut Espinosa, who shared it on her page this morning. “GIRLS - you want to be happy with your man? Don’t try to change him. Give him freedom. And love him for who he is, inside and out, right or wrong, good or bad, and everything else in between. If you can’t do that, then let me tell you something. Your relationship faces a dead-end street. BOYS - you must do the same thing, as well. That’s it. That’s how you love.” I clicked the like button under her re-post and wrote,”:D XO.” At once, she sent me a message saying,”Oh my gosh! Thanks po for

313 MARLENE AGUILAR liking. I was having a bad day, but then you cheered me up when I saw you on my wall. You inspire me, po.” I replied and posted this on her wall. “If I inspire you, I’m just going to have to love you.” Another message came in this morning from a certain Aimee Koh. She wrote: “How are you, Mom? I admire you because despite all your experiences, you stayed strong. Despite your tragedy, you never allowed fear to stop you from facing all your pain. This is one of the reasons you are my inspiration and icon in this journey of life. “The youth here in Zamboanga are certified She Dragon’s army as one, I admire you more now, I didn’t think you would reply to my message. You are so humble and genuine. You are in Tausug what we call”gagandilan’ - person without fear.” Here’s Michael Stewart’s message to me this afternoon: “You know I was looking at your pictures in the book Warriors of Heaven. You look younger today than you did then. Plus your body now is incredible. You must be immortal. There can’t be any other explanation.” I spoke to my sister Tess today, thanks to Skype. I told her how much I loved Grand Turk, and how I want to move here. Here’s our conversation. My sister’s portion of the narrative is in Italics. “I’ve been here a month, and the more I stay here the more I love this place. I feel I’ve lived here for so long. My soul belongs here. You know, there are Filipinos working here. One time I went to a store owned by someone from the Dominican Republic. I was looking for fish in their freezer, and suddenly a man said, ‘Jason Ivler!’ He recognized me. Later, he asked me if I’m Jsin’s Mom. Yesterday, I went to visit the office of a construction company.

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When I entered, a Filipino man smiling at me said, ‘I know who you are Ma’am.’” “I saw the photos you placed on your Facebook wall. It’s so beautiful there. And it’s nice there are Filipinos in that place.” “The beach is so amazing here. It’s so peaceful. And there are wild horses, donkeys, and cattle roaming free. Plus, there is an abundance of birds of different species. We even saw pink flamingos one day! I feel like crying when I think of leaving.” “I feel like crying too, when you talk about it. I’ve never heard you talk about any place you’ve visited the way you talk about that island.” “All my life, I’ve dreamt of coming to live on an island like this. I didn’t know it existed. Steve thinks we’d be able to find another place in the Caribbean like this. I say no. I’d never find another paradise like this on earth. I’ve visited so many places in the world, I see them once, and I never want to see them again. When I go home, I will work it out so I can come back and live here. This is it for me.” Last night, one of my supporters who lives in Ireland, Angelica Baron, posted this link on her wall, http://donavictorina.blogspot. hk/2011/09/vindictiveness-of-yellow.html. The heading said,”The real of Dona Victorina – VINDICTIVENESS OF YELLOW.” By the way, Angelica Baron read Warriors of Heaven, and I call her my soul sister. The link had the following commentary posted for the public to read.

“Taken from: Jojo Robles From the new autobiography of former United States Vice President Dick Cheney,”In My Time,” we read this interesting passage concerning the most violent coup attempt during the Cory

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Aquino administration, when Cheney was still defense secretary of President George Herbert Walker Bush: “As we monitored events in Panama throughout the fall of 1989, we were also dealing with a potential coup in the Philippines. On November 30, we started getting reports that rebels opposed to the rule of Corazon Aquino had seized air bases belonging to the Filipino government. We also received a request from President Aquino to bomb the rebel positions. I did not believe we should agree to do this— nor did [then Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff] General [Colin] Powell. For one thing, President Aquino made it clear she would publicly deny having made the request. Asking the United States to bomb Filipino citizens, even if they were rebels, would not go well inside her own country.” If Cheney’s account is true, then Cory Aquino not only sought American help to bomb rebel forces led by then Col. Gregorio Honasan, with little regard for the lives that would be lost. She also wanted”deniability” if the US acceded to her request, doubtless so she could retain her image as a God-fearing Catholic instead of coming across as a desperate leader determined to hold on to power by any means, including American ordnance. The Americans, of course, didn’t bomb Gringo and his men, using”persuasion flights” to keep the rebel-controlled air assets grounded instead. Cory later responded to the Americans’ refusal to bomb at her behest by snubbing Cheney when the latter visited Manila; she, according to the US, also allowed the bases in Clark and Subic to be”evicted” a couple of years later. Cheney’s account of Cory Aquino’s vengefulness, by the way, was also related earlier by Bush’s vice president, Dan Quayle, in his own autobiography. Quayle, Cheney and Powell had to decide on Cory’s demands for bombings because Bush was traveling to Malta

316 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS when the Philippine President started calling. These accounts could dump cold water on the efforts of the Yellow crowd to canonize Cory as a saint of the Catholic Church. They could also explain the vindictiveness that is fast becoming the trademark of the current administration led by Cory Aquino’s son.” Why would Cory Aquino ask the US to bomb the Filipino rebels? What kind of idiot would ask the US to do such a hideous thing, only to say she’d deny it afterward? Doesn’t she know the US will not bomb any nation or any people unless the act benefits them, first and foremost? As president why was she incapable of annihilating her supposed enemies? Plus, if I were leader of any nation, I would never ask the US to rid me of my enemies. Why would I? The price to pay would be too high. I would hire the best foreign mercenaries money could buy. And like phantoms, they would terminate my problem quietly, professionally and efficiently, anywhere in the world. I never liked Cory Aquino. Never. During the time of the dictator Ferdinand Marcos, there were no commercial drugs available in the Philippines. According to Marcus, the tyrant told the drug cartel,”You may use my ports, but don’t bring drugs into the Philippines.” All this changed when the full-blooded Chinese woman became president. Marcus also told me that during Cory Aquino’s term, which began in 1987, shipments of shabu, the equivalence of crack in the US started to pour into the country. In addition, Marcus, who then agent of the CIA told me that the reason he knew about this drug ordeal was because he witnessed Aquino’s sister in-law pick up the pay-off for the former president. It was he who flew the helicopter for Cory’s sister in-law when she met the members of the drug cartel that have been responsible for

317 MARLENE AGUILAR bringing in tons and tons of shabu into the country ever since. He said, in exchange for this great sum of money, Cory Aquino opened the gates and allowed the international drug dealers into the Philippines. He hated her and her clan to the core. So do I. It is estimated that today, Filipinos consume over 150K of shabu a week. July 6, 12, I am sitting outdoors on top of a hill by the pool and the Caribbean Sea lies beyond it in front of me There is a long island to my right, which they say is the Iguana sanctuary. We arrived in South Caicos this morning. We were picked up at the airport by a very nice woman named Mrs Malcolm. She is the District Commissioner, the government representative in this island. She toured us around the island before bringing us to our hotel. Apparently, South Caicos is a fishing community. We were in the islands of North and Middle Caicos yesterday. From Grand Turk, we flew to Providenciales where we took a ferry that brought us to North Caicos. From there we drove a rented Land Rover through the Causeway that eventually led us to the island of Middle Caicos. The latter I say is the most beautiful of the 3. Unfortunately, South Caicos is so depressing filled with abandoned and dilapidated homes. It looks like a plague hit this place and everyone died in the process. Here is my latest post on FB: “People who are inferior in mind should not breed. There are already too many idiots on earth! There are already too many mindless humans on earth, and they destroy the planet. Hitler wanted to preserve the Arian race. I would like to preserve a race that possess spiritual intellect.”

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Dark Horse

South Caicos, July 6, 2012 in the evening. The lights in our hotel room were out and Steve and I were already in bed. I cried silently in bed. He woke up, and reached out for my left hand with his right.”What’s wrong?” He uttered softly.”It’s okay,” I whispered.”Go back to sleep.” July 8, 2012, message from one of my supporters named Anton De Leon came in. He had read Bringer of Death. He wrote: “Hi Marlene, I just finished off the chapters you sent me. Sorry for the delayed reply but I really wanted to sink my teeth into the reading-a lesson I learned when I first readWarriors of Heaven. “True enough to what your son Jason said, reading your work is like watching a Quentin Tarantino movie, where the timeline is surreptitiously flaunted. I feel comfortable with the jump from one sequence to another, from previous to present and thereafter as I see this as a technique to get to know you better. Once again, l am blown away.” “Really, and I don’t want you to take offense, (and yes, pardon my French), reading your work is a lot like intellectual masturbation-it

319 MARLENE AGUILAR takes the best out of you and let’s your readers bask in the creative juices afterwards. In short, you got me all wet, there ... Hashanah, so to speak. Thanks for the privilege of being one of the first to see this.” July 11, 2012, I arrived home last night after traveling 46 hours from Grand Turk. First, we took a plane from Grand Turk to the Bahamas. Then we flew to Providenciales where we waited six hours to get on to the next flight that would take us to London. Thank god Steve checked into a hotel before we left, so I could shower and rest. He decided to do some business in Providenciales for a couple of days since we were passing through there. That way, he could offer a room for Maya and me to stay while we waited for our next flight. While in London, Maya and I waited for five hours for our next flight to Hong Kong. Since I really don’t care for shopping, we spent most of our time at the British Airways VIP lounge. Dealing with a crowded international airport is such unpleasant experience for me. Maya and I did all sorts of activities to entertain ourselves. First, we decided to eat, and shared pasta with tomato sauce. In addition, I made a green salad with olives and blue cheese topped with vinaigrette dressing for the two of us. I love it that Maya appreciates the same food her father and I eat. I had a glass of chardonnay with my meal. She drank water. Later, we took turns to use my iMac. I answered emails and messages from Facebook, while she played a game called Minecraft. The airline lounge was packed. She also drew on her sketchpad, while I did some abs exercises for about half an hour. I found it amazing how the lounge changed face as the passengers in transit came in and out of the place. Four hours passed and Maya and I played some childish game on the couch giggling together. Suddenly, I noticed a peculiar man standing by my right only two meters away from me. He pretended to check out the flight details

320 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS on the screen behind me. My heart instantly started beating fast because the energy I felt from the man alarmed me. He didn’t belong there. I lifted my head to gaze at him, and saw him inspecting the green dragon tattoo on my right forearm. Then he turned around and walked away. He wasn’t there to check the flights. He was there for something else. He stood five’10,” around 180 lbs, in his early 50s, he had a shaven head, and he had a gut. He wore a tan golf T-shirt, khaki cargo pants and tactical shoes. He was a soldier serving the US, and I would say he’s still in the service. As he moved away, it was at this moment, I decided to teach Maya how to spot men.”Maya! Look over there!” I told her.”That’s a military man. Look at the way he carries himself and the way he walks. Only soldiers walk like that. Look at his broad shoulders. He got that from working out. Remember how he looks. I think he was sent here to spy on us, and confirm our presence.” Last year, I began to teach my daughter about entering and exiting public places, no matter if it’s a restaurant, the mall or a hotel. “When you enter a building, make sure you know where the back exit is. There are times when it is necessary to use another way to leave the premises. Also, make sure you know where the CCTVs are. Be aware that someone is watching you. There is always a blind spot, an area where the cameras can’t spot you. Mark those places. Do you understand me?” I would tell Maya. So while at the airport, waiting for our next flight from London to Hong Kong, I continued training my daughter. “Look around you,” I said to her.”I will teach you how to identify a military man, like those men chasing me. I will show you how to distinguish different kinds of men from each other,” I added, grabbing her left hand with my right, as we sat on the comfortable and cushioned couch of the British Airways VIP lounge.

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“Look at the group of men across from us. Look at their suits, their shirts, their pinstriped ties, their pants, their shoes, and their hair. Those are not military men. They are businessmen working for big companies. They are clones of each other. Look at their faces, void of soul. They live utterly boring lives. Those are not military men. Those men would have a heart attack at gunpoint. They are pussies! I hope you don’t end up with men like that.” I sit in my home typing this, thinking of Grand Turk. My spirit will never leave that island. A part of me remains there. Moreover, I will count the days until I return to that paradise, and until I can have my own home there. I posted a portion of my narrative on Ian Simon on my FB wall tonight. For those who have no FB account, this means that all 7K of my friends and subscribers can read my post, and they can also comment. Here is what I wrote: “Excerpt from Condemned by Millions, book 4 of my autobiography. Ian Simon, this one is for you - I don’t know how to describe how I felt singing Ian’s song for him that particular afternoon. I wrote it for him, hoping it would take away some of his pain. I sat next to him, when Abhe began to pluck the strings of his acoustic guitar, the tune so beautiful, empowered by deep longing and sadness filled the room. The melody invaded all my senses. Tears gathered around my eyes as I began to sing, while the sound of the strings gently embraced my voice. During that single moment, I felt the soul of Ian and the souls of his mother and father. And as I sang his music, I could only feel the overwhelming emotion coming from within him. I too was overwhelmed within. Ian Simon and I were locked in the same abyss. However, I could never describe this moment in words. How could I? There is no description for the unknown.”

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Ian responded with this statement: “Reading this brought me to tears. I am reading the lines of pain and sorrow, yet they bring me elation and joy. It is beyond words how gratified I am to be a part of your book soul mother Marlene Aguilar. I so love you beyond!” Then a girl by the name of Mela Reyes asked,”Where can I buy your book?” I replied by saying she could buy the hard copy from all the major bookstores in the Philippines, but she may also download the chapters for free from my website. Afterward, she wrote,”Aah! I’m so excited! I can’t wait to read all of it! I’m downloading all of them now. I might not sleep tonight. I want to finish it before sunset tomorrow. :)” Here was my reply to Mela’s declaration: “Believe me Warriors of Heaven is not the kind of book you could read in one sitting. But I may be wrong in your case, so do let me know. The first lady of Micronesia read this book. She told the President she loved it, and that he should read it. Wes Penre, a journalist, who owns the domain for www.illuminatinews.com read it. He said,”The book is amazing. I have a lot to tell the world.” He is one of the most intellectual beings I know. My major characters are considered gods within the US military; Marcus was one of the top CIA operatives in Asia during his time. And they have had to read the book twice before they could fathom some of the things I wrote. Many intellectuals, including ambassadors and top gov’t officials worldwide have read WOH and no one has read it in one sitting. On the contrary, many of my other readers read the book at least twice. :D” I also said: “Michael Stewart has read over 500 books. Michael, were you able to read WOH in one sitting?”

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“Actually, Rebecca Padilla told me she had to stop reading WOH for I think three months after she read Chapter 4. Why? Because she needed to absorb it, she said. Her spirit needed to absorb the information. One reader said to me WOH is psychological overload forcing freedom out of your mind.” ”I believe Rebecca Padilla read WOH twice. I know Michael Stewart and Aimee Rivadillo are currently reading it for the second time.” Soon, Michael Stewart replied and stated: ”No way could I read Warrior of Heaven in one go, but I did read a hundred pages in one sitting. Reading your book is like a twenty course banquet, after every course you just sit there and digest it and let it settle in your system, appreciating the food and absorbing its qualities. Then bad literature is what I call fast food writing, it never feeds your hunger. It’s cheap and instantly forgettable and extremely bland, and like fast food, cheap literature makes you feel even hungrier than you were before.” “Marlene’s book satisfies the intellectual and artistic hunger like no other. You feel anew and refreshed after reading her magic, a whole new world will appear before you after reading her heart and soul. Do you want to step into this world? I know I do terribly.” Here was Rebecca Padillas’ comment: “I read WOH more than twice, and I am still reading it. Each time is a different adventure from the previous time. Marlene Aguilar as a writer swallows you down in more ways than one!” “I remember the first time I held the photocopy of the book in my hand backstage of the Hobbit House. I literally shivered and was reminded of my own experiences as a Warrior of Heaven... awesome how the psychic, cosmic connection was manifested at such an instance.”

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I responded to Becca and Michael saying,”WTF! You guys should write your own books! You both write so well. I’m fucking serious!” “Oh how I wish, sister! But I am not as constant as you are! Your mind and spirit can contain and control the destiny of chapter after chapter while connecting the dots in such profound mastery of words, while I get lost in the midst... I so love how you do it as I await my time. Meanwhile, we remain captured by Marlene Aguilar, literally.” Becca wrote back. “I used to have the same concern regarding my writing. But you will only conquer that fear once you jump into the abyss. It is in the midst of the great unknown that you will master your writing skills. It is there, but you must have the courage to jump into the black hole,” I replied. Michael just finished reading Chapter one of Bringer of Death. This was his response. “My favourite part in Chapter 1 is the part about your father in-law Bill Ivler. This man could easily have become a general, or higher rank, in the military, but instead he just wanted to kill Nazis. The love he had for you just amazed me and touched my heart so deeply. You were his daughter, and he was your father. Then you speak of his last days, when this brave and noble man was dying, he wanted to be with you and his grandsons. I can feel and see your tears dropping on the keys as you write this. And when he was dying of cancer, he put on a brave front for your sons, like a true knight and fighter right to the end. I wish I could have met this lion of a man who had such great intellect and strength. I’m envious as well because I don’t know anyone like him. My own father is from the old world and devoid of any emotion, he is an android.”July 17, 2012, I received a text message from Fiscal Almoro of BID. “The man from the US government came to see me last night. He

325 MARLENE AGUILAR said, you are the President they want for the Philippines.” I answered the government official at once. I said: “They have wanted me to be the President of the Philippines for many years. Why do you think they put Ivler in jail? They imprisoned my son to control me.” He sent me another message saying: “DOJ is dismissing Ivler’s charges of assault against the NBI.” I called Trax after I read this message. “What’s going on?” I asked her. “It’s true, I checked with my contact at DOJ. De Lima is pushing to dismiss NBI charges against J,” she responded. I would like to remind you that I am the most loving person. Steve constantly reminds me,”I give so much of myself to those seeking my advice and guidance, even to strangers on FB.” I counsel so many souls on the Internet. However, the counterpart of my loving personality is the exact opposite. Like my mother said, commenting on the words of the oracles that heaven shall pluck all those in my path, I don’t need help from the galaxies. She told Steve that I am so vehement I could will the death of my enemies. She is right. In that aspect, the oracles see me as Nemesis. I have intense relationships with all those who get close to me. As my mother told my partner: “Every single person. Every single person without exception, every single soul that ever gets close to her, ends up loving her and loving her immensely. It doesn’t matter who it is or what level of relationship she has with them. It could be her personal secretary, the masseuse, the janitor, her dance trainer, her staff, the lunatic artists who work with her, or even these pompous American military war- mongers she’s been fighting with, male or female, it doesn’t matter.

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I’m telling you, my daughter puts a curse on each of you, which is why you end up loving her with a passion that burns. You don’t realize it but, for better or for worse, you’re all damned!” Steve agrees with my mother. I am a powerful drug, he says. People get addicted to me. Jsin has a friend from Hawaii who came to the Philippines to be by his side and offer support when he stayed at the hospital after the NBI agents raided our home. His name is Brian Estrada, and I call him Ajax. He stayed in our home for, I think, two months. He was a great support for me during those most tragic days in my life. I sent him the chapters of Bringer of Death two days ago. I also sent him the chapters of Tales of the Black Widow. He started reading the manuscript to this novel while he was in the Philippines. Alwin Sta. Rosa once read an article written by Ajax, and he thought it was I who wrote it. According to Alwin, Brian and I write in a similar fashion. After reading the first chapter from my third novel, Brian wrote: “Just got done with the 1st chapter of Bringer of Death. I would have continued reading Black Widow, but I didn’t want to start over or try to find where I left off, so I started fresh withBringer of Death. Unlike J, I actually like being able to read things out of order, non- linear, maybe because I’m a bit schizophrenic and or dyslexic so it all comes together in my brain and fits. The best part of how you write is that I feel like you’re talking to me, still teaching me, and at the same time you’re giving me your life story and how you came to be who you are, or maybe I’m just”reaching” out, connecting dots that aren’t there? I tend to do that sometimes.” “I have to say that in reading the first chapter, a lot of wounds opened back up. A lot of memories from my time there came back to me in a flood of smiles and tears, good times and bad, painful and

327 MARLENE AGUILAR joyous, triumphant and defeating.” “I got emotional when I started reading about Bill Ivler. I know how close you and J were to him I hope Jason’s doing good, and I hope he can find a way out soon. He’s always got a place to stay at home with me.” “It’s a great read so far, and for some reason it’s flowing easier for me than Warriors of Heaven, maybe because I’ve gotten more into reading in the past two years than ever before in my life.” “I enjoyed reading the narrative from the perspective of your mother the most. It was humorous but so true! I used to like the Caesar character in your books, and in the first chapter ofBringer of Death Marcus is winning. Now, I really feel a special bond with all the men you’ve come to love, and that you later ate up and destroyed. LOL! In order to be resurrected, one surely has to go through death; Black Widow, I get it.” “While talking to Steve, your mother said,”Do you have any idea what you’re up against? Do you have any idea how many faces she has? I’ll tell you something else. What’s even more peculiar is that anytime she calls any of her ex-lovers for help - at least those that really mattered in her life, they jump. Can you believe that? They’d do anything for her, even to this day, even kill for her if she pleased.” “This is so true. I can honestly say that you’ve shown me a great amount of love and also a great amount of pain. And I can’t lie, the pain can be quite excruciating. The pain I put myself through is probably even worse. But now I see pain differently. It can be a great motivator to change someone’s life around. And at the same time, the love you gave has pushed me even further.” “I don’t think I’d ever see the beauty of light, if it weren’t for the darkness.” “I’m not sure I ever knew the real you. Sometimes I think you

328 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS were just being a reflection of myself, of who I was or who I could be, good and bad. I believe that you push people toward their potential; it’s really up to them to reach their potential or squander that potential away.” “You know what’s crazier than telling someone that they can rule the world? Them actually believing they can; that’s power...” When Caesar came to the Philippines this year, we saw each other on a number of occasions. Each time, we discussed the possibility of working close together. And yes, over the years he and I have developed a deep friendship. Like most of the US military men who have come and gone, I have become Caesar’s confidante. Here are email exchanges between the commander and myself during the 2nd week of July 2012. His narrative is in Italics. “I saw Ivler just now. While I was there a US agent came to see him. One of them spoke to him and led him to believe that they don’t trust that I’d cooperate. So they will use him as leverage, and he will remain in jail until I follow their agenda.” “Why are they so dumb? They can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do, with or without Ivler. I want to fulfill my destiny. Why do they keep wasting time? Why don’t they just talk to me STRAIGHT instead of going around the bushes like the faggots that they are?” “Because they are a bunch of pussies!” “Why would they go see Ivler and threaten him? Why won’t they just come talk to me, straight? I don’t get it.” “I have no idea why they don’t talk to you or me, for that matter.’ “I still can’t get over the fact that they told Ivler they would use him as leverage to make sure I follow their agenda. Imagine that. Now, my son wants me to just get out of here. And I will never hear the end of it. He told me he would be miserable in jail until I leave. They got exactly the opposite of what they came to see him

329 MARLENE AGUILAR for. Were they just testing the temperature and wondering how he and I would react? It’s so hard for me to believe they could possibly be that dumb.” “It is probable they would use the case of Ivler against Obama’s Presidential election. If so, then they are running out of time.” “Here’s a portion of Paulie’s tarot reading today. These were his words to me.” “There will be a power struggle between different agencies within the Philippine government. There will be unrest. The current President may die. A new order is coming.’” “The wheel of fortune turns to your advantage. You will ascend into power. You will be victorious. It is your destiny. They are running out of time.” “They are coming soon. And when they do, things will happen fast.In the end there will be a compromise agreement between both sides. They must set their preconceived notions aside.” “You will become the White Queen, pure and known for your honor, courage and convictions.” “Caesar and Gabriel remain ever-present in your life.” “I’m still involved. Hmmm…” There goes the hmmm…thing that annoys me. “I am just surprised I am still involved since it seems like I am being removed from the equation.” During the same time, I also sent emails to Gabriel. He is not talking to me again these days. I believe he does that when he’s feeling guilty. It doesn’t really matter what he does. He’s forever shamefaced in my eyes. “Early in the morning of November 19, 2010, I received a message from a friend of mine that Ivler was framed for murder the evening before. I got up immediately and found my son in the kitchen.”

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“I told him to get dressed, because he’d been set up for murder. I called Becca to come. She did. In her presence, I told Ivler to get out of the country immediately. I told him I could get him a different passport under a different name from another country. I told him to stay away until things blew over. He said no. He said the US would chase him wherever he went. He also said he wouldn’t surrender. He told me that my fight for the Philippines would be better if he were dead, and that I should accept his death. He didn’t die. Instead, he was tortured and sent to jail under unspeakable conditions.” “It was confirmed by a guard that there were assassins who waited for his arrival at the detention facility where they took him, thanks to the government. My son wasn’t harmed because he still hasn’t served his purpose on earth.” “In jail, Ivler asked me to get his surgery done. Otherwise, he said he was fine. It isn’t difficult to escape from jail here. I could get that done. But Ivler doesn’t want to run. He tells me if he escapes the US will go after him. In that sense, he has more freedom where he is. I saw the boy recently, after I arrived from my long vacation, and he looks fit and better than ever. He has become the adviser of the leaders of the Al Qaeda in jail, the MILF, and the NPA, along with several gang leaders. In my opinion, he commands the respect, fear and admiration of his fellow inmates. While in jail, he continues to read good books, fueling his already exceptional mind.” “It is truly amazing. Two governments tried to kill my son. Yet, today he is more connected than ever.” “Why your brothers would send an emissary to Ivler threatening they would keep him in jail so they could control me, I will never understand. You don’t intimidate Jason Ivler. I believe he would put a bullet through his head and yours if that were best for me. Now all he wants is for me to leave the Philippines.”

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“I am not going into politics unless I have someone like you or Caesar with me as my adviser. I have no political allegiance here. I hate the local politicians. I have never met a politician in the Philippines who didn’t rape and steal from the masses. So, as far as I’m concerned, the Philippines would be better off if these vultures were all dead.” “No man decides my destiny. My fate was decided by heaven before time began. Unless they come to me and talk to me straight, we are all just wasting time.” “Ivler says it’s not really that they don’t trust that I would follow their agenda. Obviously, I’d deliver any mission I’ve agreed to take. However, they don’t trust what I would do if they didn’t honor their end of the bargain. But that is why I need you. I need you there with me to keep me focused, to keep me on my path, despite those double-dealing bastards!” Here’s another email to the devil on earth, the man who belongs to the brotherhood of pussies in Washington DC: “Believe me, since 2007, I have thought of every single possibility that could lead me to this day. I have thought of every combination and every conceivable angle over and over again, and played it all out in my head, day and night. I’m more ready than you could imagine.” “Remember, my utmost loyalty is to my soul. After that, my allegiance is to the earth, then mankind. I may have fought with the oracles, but my inner self has always accepted my fate. And the seers have done a great job preparing me to accept the inevitable.” Below is another correspondence to Caesar: “I’m willing to take you and Gabriel as my close advisers. On top of that, they hold Ivler in jail. Why the fuck are they still so paranoid that I wouldn’t obey? That’s lame! What a bunch of pussies! What

332 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS are they afraid of? They honor me. Ha ha!” “I had dinner with Alwin last night. I told him what they did with Ivler. He told me that they wanted to find a handle on me, and that they have to be reassured they can use Jason to control me. There is no soul in the world so bonded to mine as deeply as Ivler’s. And it breaks my heart every moment of the day to see him in jail. If they don’t know Ivler is my greatest weakness, then they are utterly retarded!” “The problem is, like my father, they punish me for the same reason they admire me!” “Ivler is exactly where they want him to be - in jail. They have the best handle on me they could find in the world, that’s true. That’s all they’re going to have. That’s as much bargaining power they could ever have over me. Now, let’s just all move on and go to war. I cannot stop the inevitable.” “When the time comes, I will not worry about the dead. But I will do all I can to care for the living.” On July 16, 2012, in another electronic message to the son of Ra, I stated: “Remember Boe in Tales of the Black Widow and how I turned him into a pretzel? I fucked with his head the second time I saw him at my brother’s club, the guy was into sadomasochism. I owned him. Anyway, so long as a man has mind and passion, I don’t need much time to turn him into a pretzel. I’d manipulate him and twist him around my little finger.” “The oracles say they don’t trust you and Gabriel with me because they think I’d compromise you both. This is bullshit. I couldn’t turn you into a pretzel! That’s not possible. Why? Because, your mind is as clinical and sanitized as Singapore! And as far as Gabriel is concerned, he’s just as cunning and manipulative as I am. I’ve chosen

333 MARLENE AGUILAR both of you to keep me on my path, so I can fulfill my destiny as the oracles foretold.” The message below that I sent Caesar is dated July 18, 2012: “It is near. They are showing their face closer and closer. I need you there with me. I wouldn’t know what to do without the clarity of your mind.” “I hope they continue to do so. I want to see their plan for getting me back there.” “For five years, since you walked into my life, we have developed a connection and friendship on earth that I find amazing. What is even more amazing is that the time we actually spent in each other’s presence is so short. I believe if I added all the hours we were with each other in the physical form, it would only amount to around 36. That’s a day and a half. Yet, part of me feels I’ve spent a lifetime with you.” “Over the years, through this medium we communicated with each other almost every day. During the last five years, I shared with you my joy, my fears, my frustrations, my triumphs and my thoughts openly through the Internet. When we are together, during our short meetings, the world changes, filling with light. The sun shines brighter. In your presence, I feel safe.” “The oracles waited for you for 10 years to come into my life, you who are my catalyst, you who the heavens forged to stand by me to fulfill my great destiny, you who are my eternal consort, my defender, my protector, the son of Ra.” “I could go on and on and on about how beautiful you are to me within and without, but let me get this point across to you. I don’t care what job we undertake in the future. I will never have sex with you! You take the harem!” “Ha Ha!”

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“Did you ever notice that our conversation through this medium is as clinical as our dialog in person? Oh Spock, you are absolutely hopeless. I’d choose you as my perfect escort if I ever had to travel to the desert. That way, I don’t need to bring an ice bag.” “Ha Ha! XXX!” Here’s a portion of my email to Gabriel, from the bitch from hell and on the same day I sent that last communication to Caesar. This is regarding the US agents who came to see Jsin while I was in Grand Turk. “I can’t believe they threatened Ivler that he would stay in jail if I don’t ‘obey’. Now my son just wants me to leave the country. Your brothers are idiots! I was not born to obey!“”My destiny and I are one and the same. I will become the leader of this country. That was decided by heaven, not by you or any man on earth.” “I want to go into politics, not for anything else, but because I want to fulfill my fate! Why don’t they just quit wasting time and talk to me straight? If I find out you’re part of all this, I’m going to beat the shit out of you in public!” “Ok, enough said.” July 21, 2012, it’s been raining all day. It is currently the monsoon season in the Philippines, which means it could rain continuously for days on end. Many people dislike the wet season, but I love the rain. Diane came to the house late afternoon yesterday. She had her hair tied back to a bun. She wore a black sleeveless top and mini skirt that hugged her body tight, along with a black scarf. She wore the black patent shoes I gave her with a white trim that goes around its straps. She and I not only wear the same size dress and shoes, we have similar taste in style. Plus, even the size of our ring fingers is

335 MARLENE AGUILAR identical. So I give her hand-me-downs, except most of the clothes and shoes I’ve given her I’ve worn only a couple of times. They were practically new. I also gave her one of my rings the other day when she came to have dinner with me at home. It was a ring made of 14k white gold, with a blue sapphire on top and diamonds to its sides. It was a copy of an ancient design that was custom-made for me. Most of my jewelry was customized for me. I don’t wear costume jewelry. My mother always said,”If you can’t afford real gold, wear nothing.” I gave Diane this piece of jewelry as a token of my gratitude for looking out for Jsin while I was away in the Caribbean. Knowing she was there to take care of my son gave me immense peace and comfort. I asked Diane to come over because I wanted to celebrate. I recently won the Gawad America Award because of my”outstanding contributions to Philippine art.” I was working on this book yesterday when she walked into my living room cheerful as always. And as ever, it was a joy to see her. She and I have chemistry conducive to spiritual freedom, and growth. The world is better with her energy around me. When we reached Fireplace at the Hyatt, Marianne and her crew were so happy to see us. We ordered our favorite US Angus steak grilled medium rare, topped with peppercorn sauce. And on the side we had penne with shitake mushrooms and cream sauce, grilled yellow bell pepper, three pieces of green asparagus crisp to the bite, along with a slice of grilled onion and tomato. In addition, we ordered the same bottle of Fleur du Cap Cabernet Sauvignon. Everything was perfect, thanks to the chef, and his crew. Here’s the conversation between Diane and I while dining last night at Fireplace. Her statements are in Italics. “Tita when you were away I wanted to come here, because I

336 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS missed you so much. But I thought if I came here without you, then I’d miss you more.” I looked into her eyes, and I thought I couldn’t love her more if she were my own child. She and I are so connected in spirit. By the way, she works for a company that hires expatriate young women. Diane’s job has to do with online gambling. “I didn’t see you on Facebook while I was away.” “That’s because something is wrong with my computer. But my friends from work who are foreigners, they’re on your wall. And they updated me on your post. One Russian girl she told me,”I admire this woman.” She said she reads your headline, and you make social commentaries. And she’s amazed how outspoken you are. She told me no one in the Philippines would have the courage to speak out like you do. My other friend says you make her laugh because your words are so strong. And one of the girls from work, she doesn’t really know me. So she came to me, and she asked, ‘Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?’ And I said, ‘I have a girlfriend, because I have a boyfriend. My boyfriend’s Mom is my good friend,’” Diane said giggling. So I showed her your pictures on Facebook. She said, ‘No way that’s the Mom of your boyfriend! She’s hot!’ I have this other friend Tita, She’s 37 years old. I also have this male Iranian friend. And she’s got a crush on him. So I tried to be the matchmaker. One night we were all out, inside a club sitting at a table. And she’s saying, ‘Do you think he likes me? How do I look?’ she asked. And I think she’s hot, Tita. So I tell my male friend, ‘Come on talk to her. Just try it.’ You know what he did? He got up and left. But before he left, you know what he said to me? He said, ‘You know who’s hot? Marlene Aguilar is hot!’ Imagine that, Tita. Apparently, he goes to your Facebook wall,

337 MARLENE AGUILAR and he’s seen your pictures,” Diane stated with big eyes. “I didn’t even know he knew about you. I was surprised. He saw your photos on Facebook.” “I have never really found younger men attractive. And yet, I don’t believe it has something to do with their age. I fall in love with mind. Somehow older men have more experience. Therefore, they have wisdom which younger men don’t possess.” “I get many sex invitations from younger men on FB, and from different countries. I don’t know what it is, but I think Demi Moore made cougars in demand. There’s only one younger man on Facebook whose mind I find interesting. This guy from Ireland whose name is Michael Stewart. He writes like a poet. I admire that about him. The rest are just numbers. The internet is a vast ocean of mediocre minds.” “Actually, there was another man on Facebook I found interesting. He was supposed to be this famous actor in Turkey. He’s been my friend for two years. And he would flood my wall with music, which he dedicated to me. He had the mind of an artist, so passionate. When he found out I liked horses, he sent me photos of himself riding horses.” “Anyway for two years, I enjoyed his mind and his music, until recently. I told him I wanted to go to Turkey after my trip to the Caribbean. He insisted I stayed at his home as his guest where I would be cared for he said. I told him I’d find a boutique hotel and stay there instead, but we could meet each other. I sent him the link of the hotel where I wanted to stay. He told me that this place was the most beautiful Inn in Istanbul. Next thing I know he vanished from Facebook. I think the NSA in the US had something to do with his disappearance. I think those virgin apes in DC don’t want me traveling to Turkey.”

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As I said to Diane,”Going back to my pictures on Facebook, I think Jsin doesn’t like my sensual photos.” “He doesn’t because he says he doesn’t like men seeing you in that way,” she said laughing. “Colby doesn’t care about those pictures, but Jsin does. He can’t detach. He’s acting like my father in that way. He also doesn’t like to read my sex essays. He said to me, ‘Next time you should warn me about the sex essays in your book. I don’t want to read them.” I stated, cracking up. On our way home, while siting next to each other in the back of the car, I asked Diane,”Hey what’s that Farsi song again that they would sing when someone’s celebrating their birthday? It’s something with mobarak.” “Tita, it’s, ‘Tavallo, tavallo, tavallodet mobarak!,” she started singing it while I sang with her in unison, which made both of us laugh. “Tita, when I first met you I was surprised you could speak some Farsi. I told my friends, Jsin’s Mom could speak Tagalog, English and Spanish to him. And what’s that other one you speak, Tita?” “Iocano. I speak Ilocano. My Spanish is hopeless though.” “Yeah, and I told my friends you speak Farsi too, and they were so surprised. They said, ‘What? She can speak Farsi? That woman is a witch!’” Diane declared giggling. “I told them when you met me, you said ‘chetory’ to me. I was so surprised. They are too,” she continued. “Pedar sag!” I uttered out loud. “Ha ha! That’s what my grandfather used to call me!” Diane said laughing out loud. Pedar sag are bad words in Farsi. It means your father is a dog. July 22, 2012, Fiscal Almoro is going to become vice commissioner

339 MARLENE AGUILAR of immigration in less than two weeks. Three nights ago while he sat in his office at BID doing some paperwork he received a phone call saying that he had a client waiting for him at Starbucks across the street. He went down immediately to meet the person. When he arrived in the coffee shop, to his surprise, he was met by two Caucasian men he’d never seen before. According to Almoro, he was frightened at the sight of them. They told him they needed to talk to him in a more private place. The two mysterious foreign men took the immigration official to another place to dine. During dinner, one of them spoke to him about Jason Ivler’s case. This is what the man said: “You have been working on Ivler’s case for so long now, and still you are nowhere. I hope you don’t screw up his papers. Otherwise, you’re not going anywhere.” “If you think we would abandon him, you’re wrong. Ivler is our son. Unknown to his mother, we’ve been helping. None of this would have happened if she obeyed, but she’s so stubborn she continues to defy powerful men on earth. We can’t make her obey. The woman is a headache.” “Ivler’s mother has a golden heart. She is forgiving, unlike the son. But if you think you could bring her down, you’re mistaken. Despite her tragedy and although she has great connections, she’s never asked anyone for help. That’s how she is. That woman will fight alone. And she will bring you all down before you could touch her.” “Whether you like it or not, whether they like it or not, both mother and son will become senators.” Apparently, the two men insisted that Ivler’s cases filed by the NBI men be dropped immediately. They also said immigration should keep Ivler in their facility until his murder charge is dismissed and that would come later, they added.

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What amazes me is that Almoro discussed his meeting with these two foreign men with other government officials openly. They must have given him sanction to speak about it, to spread the news somehow. In addition, the following day after Almoro met the two strange men, he received a phone call from the head of DOJ, Leila de Lima. Apparently, she told him that she wanted all Ivler’s cases dismissed immediately leaving only the murder case. She added that charge would be dropped as well, but at another time. Since then, the immigration official has personally taken charge of Ivler’s clearances to dismiss the many charges against him filed by NBI agents. Apparently, he had to start with these charges before the murder case against my son could be dropped. In 3 days he had Ivler’s cases cleared in Immigration, Department of Justice and Philippine National Police. When de Lima found out, she called for a meeting with Almoro. “Since when could you get this kind of paperwork done in three days? NBI clearances alone should take at least two weeks. And two weeks would be fast even I you were paying for it! What’s going on?” the head of DOJ asked the BID official. So Fiscal Almoro told de Lima of his meeting with the two foreign men. The BID official also told me that an agent of the US government contacted him via email. “What did the person say?” I asked the fiscal. “Ma’am, he said there will be no immediate war between the US and China. But because of what the Philippine government did to you and Ivler, there will be revolution here in the Philippines. You will bring wrath to our lands,” he stated. “Is it true Ma’am?” he asked. “If I were given a chance to destroy the evil government of the

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Philippines along with its cronies, I would do so without hesitation. I would destroy them all! I would annihilate the vermin from my motherland. The old world would die!“ I answered. July 23, 2012, I woke up at 5:30am and then I began talking to Michael Stewart via private messaging on FB. During the last seven days, I have been in the Tabloid everyday. He has actually been quoted in one of the local tabloids supporting my comment regarding cruise ships catering to cheap tourism. His photo from Facebook appeared in the papers as well. Michael suffered a similar experience with the media in Ireland. I suppose the media is evil anywhere in the world. Apparently, Michael got drunk at a pub one day, and he ended up in a brawl. Because of this misfortune, he was sent to jail. After, he saw his photo on the paper, he wrote to me: “This is a lot better than the last time I was in the papers. There was a whole page in a local rag of a broadsheet for my stint in court. I wanted to kill every fuck that worked there and bomb that place to the ground. They reported on me like I was a rapist or a murderer, those fucking hacks, any story to fill their snot rag of a paper.” “Granted, I did wrong, but I admitted it like a man and beat my alcohol addiction. I went to all the meetings, did everything that was asked of me, yet these parasites treated me like I was a hardened criminal or a psychopath.”Anyway, Michael is now reading Tales of the Black Widow. Here’s our recent conversation. His account is in Italics. “While reading your book, I’m also reading Junky by William Burroughs. That’s a new gift I’ve learned. I started doing that when I reread Warriors of Heaven and Dune at the same time. I never got confused or lost while doing that. I can read two books at once now. That’s your influence again.”

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“You know what I wondered the other day, is why do people say to me, ‘oh that book you’re reading is depressing or that film you like is depressing.’ I never find any decent book or film depressing. I find them informative and fascinating, they open up a door to the darker side of humanity. The only thing I find depressing is a book that is just a poor imitation of better books, same as a film with obvious script and standard direction. Those would make me take Prozac and lithium together. Your writing is like an adrenalin shot for the mind. It picks you up and throws you across the room. It’s like a rollercoaster ride. When I read about your psychic gift, my head was spinning, my heartbeat pounded like that of a hare, my stomach was in knots, and I was breathless. But I fucking love the experience, and I want more. Your writing is pure mental ecstasy. That’s how unique your prose is to me.” I have received several praises for my books, and from all over the world. . But so far, that last paragraph written by Michael Stewart is my favorite review. But he’s an actor, like me. He feels my writing. My conversation with him continues. “I could always read two books at the same time. But they had to be opposite, yin and yang. For example if I read a book that was heavy reading like the life of Carl Jung, then the other should be light reading, like Isabel Allende’s novels.” “Also you have great strength, a lesser person would have hated and blamed her father. You have great inner peace and don’t dwell on the past. I don’t think I would have forgiven him. I hate thinking of you being a child and being beaten by him. That makes me sad that he would do such a thing to his own flesh and blood. My father beat me as well, but only when I was in trouble. It wasn’t right though because it didn’t do me any good.

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I stood up to him when I was 12. I grabbed his neck and the hulk inside me could have crushed him easily. I never had respect for him because he beat my brother and me. Why are fathers such brutes?” “Your father beat you maybe because his parents beat him too, or he was just born violent. I hated my father most of my life. It was exhausting. One day I decided to be fair. I told myself that if I was going to judge him, I shouldn’t only look at the bad things he did to me, but also the good things. My father also loved me immensely. The day I could do that was the same day I forgave him. What a relief it was. I felt so free. I’ve been growing fast since then. I couldn’t say my father’s violent behavior toward me didn’t do me good. On the contrary, it did me a lot of good. He gave me inexplicable pain, physically, mentally and spiritually. I have been able to forge this anguish into a great weapon. He helped transform me into a human being that is superior in mind, body and spirit. I turned yin into yang, negative to positive. Your father also beat you because that’s what the cosmic forces demanded of him. It’s part of your education in this journey. Learn to bend that painful experience into something constructive. Only then will you conquer this life.” “Yes that’s very true. Maybe because of the beatings, the comic in me came out.” “Yes, intense humor is borne out of intense pain. Your writing is also powered by your anger, which was forged from that violent relationship with your father, making your narrative sharp when necessary. It makes your storytelling compelling. If you never had that kind of background, your writing would be uninteresting like that of most people. “Can I ask, did you smoke weed when you were with Howard Marks?”

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“You don’t even have to smoke weed in the presence of Howard. He rolls them like the size of tobacco. You get stoned just being in his presence. But yes, I smoked weed with Howard.” “That’s so true, when I’m with my friends who smoke it, I get stoned as well. I wouldn’t smoke it anyway because I believe it would be cross addiction. I’d get hooked on it, or I would go back to booze, plus I hate the sickly sweet smell of it.” “My favorite writers all have suffered great pain and hurt. I just love the black humor and their depiction of the dark side, like your writing as well.” “Someday, when you find the balance of yin and yang within yourself, you’ll get rid of any addiction. The only addiction I have is getting frequent massages. Ha Ha!” “I believe only those who have suffered unbearable pain could excel in music and the arts.” “You told me Warriors of Heaven is left wing, and Tales of the Black Widow is right wing. You are not left or right. You’re not even in the center. There is only the undiluted truth in your writing.” “You are one of a kind, and the confines of politics does not relate to you. That’s the great change you can bring to the Philippines, the death of old world politics.” “I think your conversation with Daniel is very interesting. He’s the first military man whom I believe possesses a great mind, which is why you talk to him. He’s very different to all the US military men you’ve written about. Do you know the film Manhunter? The detective in that movie goes into the mind of the killer. He enters the dark side of this psyche just so he can understand the history and the motives of the killer. That’s you.” “By understanding who they are and why they do what they do, you help them escape the prison of the institution. You are the real

345 MARLENE AGUILAR bringer of death.” “I just read the first chapter of Bringer of Death, you are right, it is the most powerful out of the three you’ve written. It’s also the most personal. I will be finished with Black Widow soon. You are right when you said it’s easier to read than Warriors of Heaven.” “Cheater! You’re supposed to finish reading Black Widow first.” “I couldn’t help it. I told you other forces wanted me to read it. There are three books I’m reading all at once now. You’re still not right wing. In Black Widow, you show these American soldiers in better light and the amazing feats they can accomplish, like the HALO jump, which is incredible.” “It was funny to read about you when you were seventeen. I love the way your mother describes you in Bringer of Death, telling Stephen she had nicer daughters to offer him, outside of you. That was very funny.” “My mother was fierce and funny.” “Just like her daughter. That’s some introduction about you she gave Stephen. Did you ever get your chandelier?” “Ha Ha! What I did to Marcus is nothing compared to how I tortured the other men in my life! The most interesting parts about my life, my mother knew nothing about.” Here is a recent message from Michael. “Tales of the Black Widow is a great book. I am now on chapter 4. For me, it is like an hour of weight lifting for the mind every time I read it. That’s the way your writing feels to me. You can’t read it quickly, you have to take your time and digest it.” Meanwhile, one of my European fans in Germany recently began reading Tales of the Black Widow as well. Later in the day, he sent me the following messages: “You are the ultimate aphrodisiac to me. You can have my vagina.

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Ha ha!” “Why am I a virgin? It is because I don’t want sex where the man is in control. I want the woman to be dominant because they have all the power. Like you said, maybe I was a woman in my former life.” In the meantime, Chris King posted this headline on his FB wall: “LISTEN TO THIS ADVICE; FOLLOW IT CLOSELY, FOR IT WILL DO YOU GOOD, AND YOU CAN PASS IT ON TO OTHERS: TRUST IN THE LORD.” AMEN. PROVERBS. CH.22vs17-19. I sent him a private message on FB. I wrote: “LISTEN TO THY MOTHER SPEAK, YOU DIRTY CHILD. I TRUST IN MYSELF ABOVE ALL! SO TRUST IN THYSELF OR I SHALL CURSE YOU TO A LIFE OF DAMNATION WITHOUT SEX, YOU FOOL!” A few days later, he posted: “CHILDREN WHO CURSE THEIR PARENTS WILL GO TO THE LAND OF DARKNESS LONG BEFORE THEIR TIME.” AMEN. PROVERBS.CH.20vs20. I wrote him another private message and stated: “You know, I’d rather go to hell than go to heaven. The latter would bore the hell out of me.” “Wow!” he replied. “If church goers go to heaven, I’d rather be in hell. There are no hypocrites there. Look at the statement you posted? It promotes fear! Why can’t they say, LOVE THY PARENTS BECAUSE THY PARENTS GAVE THEE LIFE?” I adore Chris King. I constantly give him a hard time regarding his posts. Still, I haven’t angered him. Amazing.

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Last night I sent a message to the older oracle that I wanted to see her today at around 12:45pm. I am never late for appointments. I hate waiting, and I hate people waiting for me just as much. The lady seer should know this since we have been seeing each other now for over 20 years. I arrived at her place at 12:40pm. She wasn’t ready. And it appeared she wouldn’t be ready for me for at least another half hour since she was in the middle of a tarot reading with someone else. I left at once. The reason is I wanted to see her is because I spoke to Aida, my older sister yesterday. She’s a genius, a scientific genius. She is a biochemist who has been awarded because of her inventions. The first recognition she received was when she was 16. She made paper out of cornhusk. She lives in the US. Recently, a US government official whom she doesn’t know approached her. “Do you have any intention of running for politics?” he asked her. “No,” she replied. “If you became a politician, you’d do a good job,” he stated.”Think about it.” Now, I find that alarming.”I think those who are after me are now on to my sister. That is why I needed to see the lady oracle today. However, cosmic forces stopped me from seeing the old witch. Immediately, I sent Paulie a message,”I need you to read my tarot. It is urgent.” He replied instantly,”It’s my day off today. And my car is color coded.” “I don’t care. I’m coming to see you. We’ll just do the tarot reading in your house,” I replied. “Ok,” he said. I arrived in the home of the Buddhist oracle 20 minutes later.

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He lives in an apartment located in San Juan, Metro Manila. When you enter his living room, you are greeted with the sweet sound of chirping canaries. He also keeps two big aquariums with a generous display of the most exotic calico and ryukin gold fish. Like my home, his place is furnished with Asian furniture and art, along with Buddhist images carved in marble and stone. When I entered his home, I found Paulie wearing a sleeveless shirt, shorts and rubber flip-flops. We hugged each other as I entered. Then he led me to a small room where he does tarot reading. As soon as I got there, he offered me the most delicious banana chips I ever tasted.”They’re export quality,” he said proudly. “Do you have the old tarot we used to use?” I queried. “Yes,” he stated.”What would you like to drink?” he asked. “Tea, please,” I replied. Then he left the room for a few minutes and came back with a petite Oriental teapot and two cups. He placed them gently on the table and poured the drink. “Where is the old deck we used to use?” I asked. Immediately, Paulie began to search the room, but he couldn’t find them. After a few minutes, I declared,”Well you’re going to have to use a new set of tarot for me.” After that statement, he produced a pretty box and opened it. He put the set of cards in front of me. What was strange was they were exactly the same tarot the old lady has used for the past 20 years to read my future. Here is Paulie’s reading today: ”Stability comes. A new soul consort appears in the tarot. He is a hierophant, a superior visionary appearing like the pope followed by millions of powerful men. Unknown to the public, this imperious man will stand by you.” ”Pax Romana is coming; the golden age will be born.” Suddenly, the oracle asked,”After book 4 of your autobiography,

349 MARLENE AGUILAR will there be a book 5?” ”Yes,” I answered. ”Your 5th book is the key. It is upon its completion that you shall rise as the celestial dragon from the heavens descending upon the world of men. Your destiny is to sit on a throne not only for the Philippines, but your reign encompasses the world. You are the missing piece in order for all things to work like clockwork.” ”Fulfillment of your destiny is now. However, those who will not be mentioned, the Brotherhood who are after you, cannot find someone who is your equal. They have a man they‘ve chosen to stand as your consort in the eye of the public, but he holds only one star. You, on the other hand, hold all the stars in the galaxies, and you command them. The chances of another soul like you being born into this reality are none. There is only you.” ”Now is the time to let everything fall into place.” ”Jason Ivler’s freedom is near. They will use your son’s liberty to your advantage.” ”Relax. Everything is set in motion; nothing will stop the will of the universe. The hierophant watches over you.” ”The tarot is upside down. You appear as the queen, but you have the power of the king. You will make all men fall upon their knees.” ”The dawn and the age of magic are upon us. It begins with you again. You will give birth to the golden age of magic. You are the balance between darkness and light. You will rule.” July 24, 2012, I sent Chapter 1 of this book to one of my editors Josephine Queipo, my former sister in-law. She was married to my older brother Freddie. I sent her Chapter 2 yesterday as well. Apparently, she read the first chapter. This morning I received this email from her. She wrote: “A lighter version of you and yours. Its like the darkness has been

350 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS brushed away just enough to peek at the light that reigns inside.” “I felt elation and extreme sadness. I laughed out loud and I shed a tear. The words pranced across my heartstrings. I love this book.” After reading Chapter 2, she sent me this comment via email: ““Holy shit, Mariana. WOLVES!!!!!!! ( = !!! x septillion)” “Your erotic essays alone would make the New York Times Bestsellers list. I don’t think all the hullabaloo about 50 Shades of Grey can cum (hehehe) close to your stories!!!”I sent the hard copy of my book Bringer of Death to my soul sister Rebecca Padilla over a month ago. She started to read Chapter 1 in the car one day on her way to the city of Baguio, which is located in the northern Philippines. While reading the first portion of my novel, she started crying uncontrollably. And she couldn’t stop crying. Later, she told me the pain my writing gave her was too much for her to bear. She couldn’t read it. So this morning I posted my editor’s review of Chapter 1 from this book. In addition, I posted this message to Becca on my wall: “Rebecca Padilla, my beautiful and beloved soul sister. I know book 3 is very painful for you to read, because you were there when those tragic days fell upon me. But I had to go through a long dark tunnel to suffer. It was necessary. How else could I understand the anguish of mankind if I do not endure it first? I’m okay now. I will always be grateful for your love. I love you to no end. So read the goddamn book!” “It rips my heart into pieces sister!!!” She wrote back. We are interrupted by a call from Steve via Skype. Here is part of our dialog. His portion is in Italics. “How many guys could ever say they’re learning about their wives through their books?” “I could write 5 more books. I have more to tell you know.”

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“If you ever enter politics, you’d win because you have the support of the young nation. If you become senator, you’d be the first politician who is politically incorrect.” “My image alone is politically incorrect, because of the large dragon tattoos on my arms. I’m not a politician. I’ll never be one.”” “You’re just a different kind of politician, something the world hasn’t seen. Tell me what’s going on.” “I made an appointment to see the lady oracle two nights ago, because I was worried about something. I needed the tarot to clear my mind.” “I spoke with my sister recently. They sent someone to her, a messenger asking her if she wants to run for politics here in the Philippines. They call it ‘testing the temperature.’ The thing is I don’t believe that’s the case with my sister. I’m afraid they will push her toward the direction they want her to go. She’s a genius, and they want to use her scientific mind. The thing is, she’s not going to handle pressure as I can. Jesus! My sister is brittle. I’m flexible. Plus, my personalities are rounded. I’m like a ball. Give me pressure and I’ll just roll. But my sister... my sister doesn’t know how to fight like I can. When we were growing up she obeyed all my father’s rules, out of fear, and also because she wanted to avoid conflict.” “My god, my sister loves the US anyway. She says she owes it to them because they educated her. They gave her scholarships. Plus, she’s a US citizen. They deported her son Maeng to the Philippines. I’m afraid they’re going to fuck with her work after that, forcing her to return home because they want her in politics. That’s what they did to Jsin. They set him up and filed charges against him, so he would run to the Philippines. Now, he’s in jail, exactly where they want him, so they could pressure me. If they did that to my sister, she would flip. Anyone else would have lost their mind, if

352 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS they suffered what I had to endure. My sister is not like me,” I told Steve crying. “Why don’t you talk to her?” “I don’t know how. I’m afraid if I told her it would cause her immense anxiety. She’s not like me.” “Did you see the old oracle?” “No, something stopped me from seeing her. My guardians stopped me. It was weird, because I’ve been seeing her for 22 years, and nothing like his has ever happened.” “I made an appointment the night before I went to see her. She normally arrives in her place at noon. She eats lunch first, so I made an appointment at 12:30 giving her half an hour to eat, which is what we normally do when I visit. I sent her a message as soon as I left the house telling her I’d be there in 25 minutes. I hate being late for an appointment. I hate it when people have to wait for me, but I hate it even more when I have to wait for people. The monster in me comes out when I have to wait.” “I arrived at her office on time, and there she was reading the tarot for someone else. Tarot reading takes over an hour. And I don’t see how she could have accepted a walk-in when I made an appointment to see her. I sent her a message saying I had arrived and left, saying that the reason I made the appointment was because I have no time to wait.” “I was so pissed off! Medea released her energy of blackness in her room! I’ve never reacted that way to the old lady. And you know, I don’t believe it’s really because she was going to make me wait. My unseen guardians forbade me from seeing her. I believe she is now compromised. She’s working for them. She sold me out.” “Jesus!” “It was Paulie’s day off that day. I sent him a message saying that

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I needed to see him, and it was urgent. He has this little room in his place surrounded by bookshelves. He also loves to read. This is where he reads the tarot. I asked him to produce the old tarot we used to use. That deck has a curse such that anyone who uses it outside of me will be damned. Someone else used that tarot, and yes, the person is damned. There is a mercenary after him now. And there is nothing I can do to protect him. So when I got to Paulie’s, he started looking for that old tarot. He asked one of his male staff to help us find it. So the three of us searched the room. We couldn’t find it. Then I told him,”Just give me a new deck. It would be worth money someday because I used it.” He scolded me for even implying he was concerned with the cost of the deck. He thought my tone of voice implied he would think twice about giving me a new tarot to use.” “You know what? When he laid the cards before me, I realized those were the same tarot the old lady uses. It’s the original deck. This is the one most tarot readers use all over the world. To me, it was a great omen. My unseen guardians speak to me in this manner. They are saying the old lady’s powers had now shifted to Paulie. And I believe this is because she has compromised me.” My partner continued to listen to me patiently. I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without being able to talk to Steve. He has stood by my side supporting me over the years through thick and thin, rain, shine or storm. I went on with my speech. “From the day they walked back into my life in 2007 I have spent so much time trying to look into the future. I knew it would end like this. I knew that eventually, I would go into politics.” “This is why I pushed you out of my life. I knew where I was going. Since then I have played out every possibility regarding my future. And I think I’ve done a good job. I think it was Eric who said,

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‘I’ve calculated every step, every move I’ve made from the beginning.’ And he believes I will get exactly what I want.” “When I realized the US was after you, it reminded me of Rob’s death. So, everything I wrote in cyberspace, everything I said on the phone, everything I wrote in my texts, everything I wrote in Warriors of Heaven, Tales of the Black Widow, and even what I’m writing now is calculated. How else could I have survived these cunning men? I knew they were going to take me as a prisoner, one way or another. And since death is not my fate, I made a clear decision from the beginning to help them design my own cage. But, they could never contain my mind and spirit.” “My father did a great job raising me. I was battle-hardened from a tender age. He taught me to calculate the powers of the enemy against mine. I was small and fragile. I was David. He was Goliath. And so here we are; we are all still alive. And I’m not losing this game. But we must all be flexible and do the best with the cards we’re dealt.” “There was a time; I had to choose between you and Jsin. I chose to protect you because of Maya. Jsin fell. Now, they hold him to pressure me.” “You know what puzzles me is this. I’ve already accepted to have Caesar and Gabriel as my close advisers. These are two of the best men they have. On top of that, they hold Jsin hostage. And still they’re paranoid I wouldn’t obey. This tells me that there is something in the equation I don’t see. There is the factor of the unknown. And they’re concerned I would react against it.” “Do you know what it is?” “Yes. That’s the other reason I needed to check the tarot. It’s really not difficult to confirm it. As I started talking about this imperious man whose bloodline is impeccable, the energy of the entire room

355 MARLENE AGUILAR changed drastically. My nerves started shaking, I became dizzy, and so did Paulie. That confirms my suspicion.” “The thing is they don’t have the humility to accept my fate was decided since time began. No man will change it. It isn’t possible. The only thing they can do is to kill me, but they will not do that. That is not part of their plan. It really doesn’t matter who they send to me. They have no idea of the power of my mind. I am able to enter the minds of men and manipulate them if I wish. Every man the US killing machine has sent me has been compromised because I am able to enter his mind. I am able to go into his psyche and find his weaknesses and strengths. From there I am able to turn him to my side. There is one exception to this - Caesar. And this is because I need the clarity of his mind. I need distance from him. I’d compromise myself if I compromised him.” “So, it really doesn’t matter if they sent to me the most powerful man in the world to confront me. It would be pointless. Like the oracles say, I will push all men to bend their knees to me.” “So what do we do?” “My father said in battle, you must learn when to attack, when to retreat, when to wait and when to lay down your arms. I have laid down my arms. It’s time for me to wait. In the meantime, we continue to live our lives to the fullest.” Charlie Lozo, is a tabloid writer and a long-time friend. Like Paulie, and like most tabloid writers in the Philippines, he is gay. However, he’s not as flamboyant and outspoken as the Buddhist seer. He and I met in the 80s while I visited the Philippines from the US. I played a small role in a local movie called Shake Rattle n’ Roll, which was directed by Peque Gallaga. Unlike foreign companies, the hours were horrible. They’d give me a call time for 6am, for example, yet I wouldn’t start work until 6pm. The local movie set

356 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS was absolutely unorganized. Plus the local actors have absolutely no acting education. They gathered around the set discussing the most trivial of things. They bragged to each other about their most recent trips to the mall, and what brand of clothes, shoes and bags they had purchased. They made me want to vomit. It was then I realized that the local movies in the Philippines were mostly infested with dumb and shallow harlots that would sell their flesh and blood to get a role. So, during the hours I spent with this group of so- called Filipino actors, I found myself hugging a pillow to sleep in one corner of the room. I stayed away from the maggots. However, Charlie always kept me company. He was always around the set acting as my escort, my personal assistant. In return, I gave him my daily paycheck, which made him very happy. I accepted the job to see what it was like to work with local actors and a local director, not for anything else. I got what I came for. So I made a clear decision since then never to be part of Philippine film. Nonetheless, the tabloid writer and I remained friends over the years. During my most tragic hours, when I stood up against the government and the media, Charlie stood by me defending me in the press. Because of this, he also received several death threats. In addition, he was fired from his job. He and I have had our differences, but I love this man. I love him for his courage. I love him for the loyalty and dedication he gave me during the most trying days of my life. Yesterday, Charlie arrived at my home with his older sister Rina Hernandez. The latter is a teacher at the American School of Doha in Qatar. She wanted to see me two years ago, but it didn’t happen. Two days ago, I called Charlie asking about the Gawad America award. As I said earlier, I won this award for my contributions in Philippine art. I found it strange because in the Philippines, most awards are useless, in my opinion. You win them by giving favors, donations

357 MARLENE AGUILAR and in some cases the winner pays cash for the recognition. This is why most of my awards are from abroad. I was never interested in playing the game locally. Because of that I only have one award from the Philippines. And it is legitimate. Anyway, here is a portion of my conversation with Charlie two days ago about Gawad Amerika. His accounts are in Italics. “Who else has won this award in the Philippines?” “Lito Camo for music.” “But the name is not respected by his fellow musicians. Who else won the award?” “Dr. Calayan.” “But what did Dr. Calayan ever do? He’s a plastic surgeon. That’s disappointing to hear.” “You know the deal. Most people play politics, which is how they get the award. You are a legitimate winner. You didn’t have to give out a big donation, you didn’t’ have to throw dinners and parties for certain people. Be happy. By the way, my sister Rina is visiting from Qatar. And you know the first thing she said to me when I saw her? ‘Bring me to Marlene. I want my photo taken with her so my Filipino friends in Qatar will believe me when I say I know her!’” “Bring her on Tuesday when you see me then.” So, yesterday Charlie and his sister Rina arrived at my home. And we had lunch together. Rina had her photo taken with me at the dining table after dessert. I love her openness and her honesty. In my opinion, she’s a pretty woman. She shines from within. Before lunch, and while sitting in my garden this is what Rina told me: “The OFW’s (Overseas Foreign Workers) in Qatar love your posts on Facebook. My co-teachers and I are in school by seven in

358 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the morning. The first thing I do when I sit with them at the table is open my iPad and check your wall posts. Then they gather around me asking what your new headlines are. All of us look forward to your statements every morning. You made us laugh when you posted your comments against ‘the female members of high society, women who refused to speak Tagalog, women who have overdosed on plastic surgeries, those who take glutathione pills to make their skin white,’ you said. My co-teacher asked me, ‘Is Marlene talking about Kris Aquino?’ “They love that you admit growing up poor. They love that you are against the government, and you defend the masses. One foreigner read your headlines, and he stated, ‘Marlene Aguilar is against your government.’ I said, ‘All the Filipinos in Qatar feel the same. We are all against the government.” “We’re so happy that you speak out. My daughter said, ‘Isn’t Tita Marlene afraid she would get killed saying the things she says?’ I told my daughter that clearly you’re not afraid. So, you know what she did? She started making comments against the government as well. Filipinos on Facebook have started attacking the government as well because you give them courage.” “Filipinos in Qatar are behind you. We’re all sick of the government, too. Nothing has changed. Since Marcos, we’ve continued to decline as a nation. The OFWs in Qatar hated GMA so much, when she came to visit the place, no Filipino wanted to be part of her welcoming entourage at the airport. Moreover, she threw a party wherein she invited Filipinos to come. Again, no one showed.” “But the OFW’s stand by you in your fight against the government. And if you ever run for politics, we would all vote for you.” It is almost nine in the morning. I have been writing since four a.m. My mind feels used. I am almost done with this book. I cannot

359 MARLENE AGUILAR wait to start book 5. It is actually finished in my head already. I just need to write the words down. I will continue to talk to you tomorrow. July 25, 2012 –”I hope I can be strong like you, Miss Marlene Aguilar. I don’t care what people say about you, criticizing you. Because all I can see in you is a very loving and strong Mother! God bless you!” wrote Salinas Jane Ramel on my FB wall today. “That’s because you have a mind better than the rest of dumb mankind. You can think for yourself despite the evil media propaganda of the dwarf GMA. XO!” I answered. Later on, Danica Joy Macion Pasa, one of my baby dragons, postedthis statement on my wall. She asked: ”Mom, may I ask you a question? Is there hope for the Philippines? Is there end to the corruption that reigns over our land? Is there end to the suffering of the Filipino people? Is there any hope in the coming election? Or do we continue to endure the eventual doom of our nation? ”You must hold on to hope, no matter how slight and no matter how dim the situation may appear to be. There is always hope,” I stated. ”Thanks po Mom I love you. :),” she replied. I sent an email to Caesar yesterday. I said:“I manipulated almost all the men in my past and had them wrapped around my finger.” “You always do,” he replied. July 26, 2012, last night I sent the narrative below to Caesar.”I went to see Ivler today. The apes sent another messenger to him. Here’s the conversation my son and I had in jail. When are they going to stop playing their games? They’re running out of time.” “Ivler’s dialog is in Italics.” “They came to see me. They said if I did a series of jobs for them,

360 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS then you can walk away free. You can get out of here.” “I don’t want that. I told you this is what I want to do. I want to go into politics and fulfill my destiny.” ”I don’t believe you.” “Jsin, even if you were living a wonderful life somewhere in the middle of Africa, under a different identity – I’d still want to go into politics. I want to do this. I don’t care if you were in Mars, my decision doesn’t change.” “You said you wanted a quiet life!” “I do!” “Then why are you following their agenda? Why are you doing this when you can walk away? You can have your freedom. They’d take me in exchange for you.” “Because I don’t want to walk away. Part of me wants to live a quiet life, yes! But, the other side of me wants to stay here and fight. Don’t you understand? I want both worlds. I want to stay and fight. I want to be a senator, then President or Dictator. And as long as I can get away once every quarter to Grand Turk, I’m fine. Can’t you see? I can’t just sit on the beach forever staring at the sun. There’s the other side of me that seeks danger.” “What if I was dead, would you still do it?” “Yes!” “What if I stood in the way? What if I did something to destroy your political career?” “Is that what they asked you to do? The thing is you don’t know which faction contacted you. There are times when two sets of agents are sent, and they come from different factions to work against each other. If your soul hungers to stand in my way, then go ahead and do it. Because I’m going into politics, not because of you, not because they’re using you as leverage, not because they’re

361 MARLENE AGUILAR threatening me, but because there is a part of me I cannot deny. My soul hungers to fulfill my fate!” I forwarded the above to Gabriel and Miss California this morning. Half an hour later, she answered and wrote: “The US will not allow Ivler to get out of jail, not while there’s conflict or a potential war going on with China. We realize the mass of Filipinos want Ivler freed, but his freedom will cause a political storm, and you and your family will be in the middle of it all. Our emails are being monitored. I know this, so do you. The US is going to war.” Here is another painful altercation between Jsin and myself following the last one. He is having a hard time accepting that I will run for politics. His dialog is in Italics. “What I will do, will ensure you never have to deal with them again.” “The men after me are above the US government. You are not listening. I want to do this with or without you. You have not lived long enough. You have not experienced life long enough to understand what I’m dealing with.” “You don’t know half of what I’ve experienced. You think ‘cause they’re in another country, they’ll be untouchable.” “What you’ve experienced will not help me deal with them. You don’t even know what you’re trying to save me from. You have no idea who they are.” “I’ve been marked for this since you were a little boy, and you think you could do jobs for the idiots who came to see you and change the decisions of men more powerful than the US president? It’s not going to happen!” “I guess that means you would do it no matter what danger it puts Maya and Steve in, ‘cause you certainly are not denying it. I

362 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS know what I have done. The solution is not to add to it.” “The context of your question is not relevant to my reality. You’re making decisions based on little knowledge.” “The context of your reply is evasive. It’s a direct question no matter what reality you’re in unless that reality is one without your family.” “You have endangered us all far more. It is I who faced it all alone, protecting our family. And you are in no position to tell me what’s right and wrong.” “I didn’t make a decision. I asked a question that you are struggling not to answer. I didn’t say what you said was right or wrong. I just asked if you would still enter politics if it endangered the people you love? YES or NO? Instead of just answering, you pick a fight.” ”The only time I wouldn’t endanger my family is if I’m dead. My choices are not simple. It’s not one or the other. The choice is not safety or danger; it’s not black or white. I choose to stay in the middle. Only I can deal with this. I’ve lived it. No one can help me. And I don’t really need help.”“Steve has accepted taking Maya to Grand Turk where both of them will be away from all this.”July 29, 2012, I sent an email to Miss California last night. I wrote: “Why do ‘they’ call me the dark horse?” I asked her. During the third quarter of 2010, she sent me email saying that some men in DC call me the dark horse. ”For the obvious reason, those in Philippine politics are not expecting you to take the challenge.In your case, the opposition is blindsided,” she replied. July 30, 12, in December 2009, like some major characters in my life, Wes Penre disappeared. Maybe he had to. Maybe there were great forces that prevented him from talking with me. Last night, as I lay quiet in bed, I thought of Wes. My inner voice

363 MARLENE AGUILAR told me to reach out to this soul consort of mine, a man with an amazing mind. So I sent him an email. I stated: “Hi Wes. I hope all is well with you. I am attaching book 3 of my life story. I call it Bringer of Death. I have included our email correspondence. I hope this doesn’t upset you. If there is anything you want changed, please let me know. I have read our conversations via email over and over again. And you have been very helpful to me. I’ve missed talking to you terribly. “I am now almost done with book 4, which I call Condemned by Millions.” “When I launched book 1 of my autobiography in November 2009, the SWAT team raided my house. In January 2011, a hundred heavily armed men attacked my home. I was told the president of the Philippines then ordered them to kill my son Jason Ivler and me. He was framed by the government for a crime he didn’t commit.” “I believe it was the US government that sent the former President, and the entire government and the media against me. My son took two shots during the raid, and the bullet of an M16 went through his body. After that he was tortured in front of me while he bled close to his death. Meanwhile, the President launched a hate campaign to destroy my family and me. Through media propaganda, the people, my people, the people I tried to protect with my own life condemned me in public. I survived it all. However, despite the malicious campaign of the government, I have been hailed as the bravest woman of the Philippines for the past two years. The young nation calls me She Dragon and the Mother of the Revolution. Warriors of Heaven is now required reading in two local universities. Bringer of Death talks about the last two and half years of my life.” “I have decided to lay down my arms and work with THEM, believing in my heart that no man could change my fate. My destiny

364 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS remains the same. I’m in tears writing these words to you. It has been a very painful journey. But, I regret nothing.” “Thank you so much for being there.” “Marlene” I opened my email today, and to my surprise I realized he has responded. He wrote:

“Dear Marlene, What a surprise! It was very difficult in many ways to read your email, because I can see and feel that you have suffered so much in order to help the many. You have my full empathy for all the painful events you have experienced. I can’t even begin to understand how all that must have felt!” “Then again, it makes me tremendously happy to see what you have accomplished. It is so truly amazing! It shows that the intentions and determination of one single individual, based upon a clear vision of a desirable future, can actually make such a major difference!” “And of course, it is okay to include our conversation. I am so happy to hear that I could at least help in some little way. The work, dear Marlene, is all yours, and it is truly one of the most amazing stories I’ve ever heard! I am preparing myself, emotionally, to read the word files you sent me. I believe it takes courage to read it.” “Bless you! You are truly of the Divine!” “A million hugs! Wes”

You have no idea how happy I am Wes is back in my life. Suddenly, the world seems brighter. His energy in my life fuels all that is good

365 MARLENE AGUILAR within me. I woke up this morning thinking of the past when Jsin Ivler was in QC jail. Then one day, the news all over the tri- media declared he was receiving VIP treatment. Once again, the press condemned my son for something he hadn’t done, especially that wretched television network Channel 2. I curse them all, the owners of that network, and their entire bloodline. May they all suffer the wrath of earth, heaven and hell from here to eternity. Once again, the vile government of the Philippines conspired to punish my son further. Judge Bayani Vargaz signed a court order to transfer Jason Ivler to the toughest detention facility in the country with maximum security. What the public don’t know is that the assassins hired to murder my son failed to do their job. Why? This is because as time passed Ivler was not only admired and adored by his fellow inmates, the guards venerated him as well, making it difficult for mercenaries to harm him. According to information I received from the warden of another jail in Metro Manila, Ebarle had planned to kill my son when he first arrived in jail. This is why they sent him there while he could barely walk and while still incapacitated, giving him no chance to defend himself. I believe these conspirators were former President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo and Victor Ebarle Sr. “It was difficult for them to kill your son, Ma’am. You were there everyday. And at times the media followed you. That made it hard for them to kill Ivler.” “You created such a commotion in that place. We heard you even threatened the warden to a fistfight. In time, your son gained the support of all the gang leaders making it difficult to touch him,” my informer said.

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Actually, I saw Jsin everyday during the first three months he was in QC jail. Unknown to the government, there were different occasions I took members of the media with me who were my allies. I wanted them to see the ghastly conditions Department of Justice of the Philippines put my son in. I did challenge warden Velasquez of Quezon City jail to come out of his office and fight me like a man one day. I stood in the open air surrounded by several hundred inmates, yelling at the top of my voice asking the warden why he refused to send Ivler to a medical facility. This was the time when Jsin began to bleed through his gut. I called him all sorts of nasty things and told him if he didn’t face me it was only because he wasn’t a man. He was a faggot, I yelled. Apparently, while I challenged the warden, Jsin and his striker and cook Lucio stood a few meters behind me. “Jsin, stop your mother,” Lucio said to Ivler. “No one can stop her when she’s like that,” Jsin stated. So, the justice system transferred Ivler to Bicutan where members of the Al Queda, MILF, NPA and the most famous bank robbers, criminals, and political prisoners are held awaiting trial. For those of you who don’t know, the members of the NPA are the communist rebels of the north. While the media enjoyed another circus reporting on Ivler’s supposed VIP treatment in jail, I was interviewed live by Jessica Soho of Channel 7. Their crew followed Steve and I to Café Carusso in Makati where we dined one evening. After dinner, the television representatives spoke to me. I would like to add, outside of Boy Abunda and Cheche Lazaro, Jessica Soho is one of the very few members of the media who has been fair to my son and myself. In my opinion, almost all the rest are scum! Tonight, on Facebook, Rebecca Padilla posted the link of Jessica

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Soho’s live dialog with me, along with her statement of protest. Here is the You Tube link to this TV broadcast: http://www. youtube.com/watch?v=7rnGwLxwFF8. And here is Becca’s commentary: “Our government officials, educators, media people should go camping in our detention centers to SEE the bigger picture. I know of the human rights violations committed against inmates happening 24/7 in jail.” “So WTF do they mean with ‘VIP treatment‘? WTF are they talking about? If Jason Ivler’s situation is their definition of VIP treatment, then this nation is doomed. I challenge the media and these government officials to camp out in Quezon City jail so they can learn some horrible facts! Our detention facilities need immediate serious humane consideration! Because people are dying in these places everyday. Their rights are abused and ignored every minute of the day!” “As in the case of Jason Ivler, yes there are two victims. However, the truth of the matter is, Jason Ivler remains to be the alleged perpetrator. He is not even convicted yet! He is INNOCENT until proven guilty. So why does the media imply Jason is a criminal? The real criminals are the government officials in the Philippines that treat inmates like animals, along with the media that promote lies instead of truth!” “If indeed Jason Ivler gets VIP treatment in jail it is because he is a VIP! He is venerated not only by his fellow inmates and their visitors, but by the guards, as well. They idolize him. The majority of these people want to see him, they want to shake his hand, talk to him, get his autograph and have their pictures taken with him.” “Let’s accept it, Jason Ivler is a VIP. Otherwise, why the hell is he given national attention like this? The local tri-media accord him

368 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS more press mileage than the President of the Philippines! Hello!” “To Mr. Ebarle and the rest who think that the”rules and regulations” are manipulated in favor of Jason Ivler and the other 20 percent of his classification who are branded as VIPs because of their privileged background - how about seeing how those same”rules and regulations” are hopelessly ignored for the rest of the 80 percent who are less fortunate? Mr. Ebarle, is that how low one’s common sense gets out of bitterness? You and your family are the ones clamoring for VIP treatment because you think you are a VIP. Let’s face it. The likes of you people get frustrated when faced by an opponent that is a VVIP (very, very important person) like Marlene Aguilar who stands towering above you despite your malicious acts!” “It is the vehement actions of politicians like you that have led to the inhumane suffering of the less fortunate inmates for many, many generations, leaving this society sicker and sicker each day. So please!!! Let us look at the bigger picture! How about talking, I mean speaking of JUSTICE first before talking about RESPECT? I do not say this because Marlene is my dearest friend and sister. I speak of this because believe me, and humbly speaking; I know what I am talking about. I believe this truth to be real, long before Marlene and I saw each other again in this lifetime. The jails in this country are a haven for human rights violations! If anyone is guilty, it is the government officials of the Philippines, who have absolutely no respect for the human rights of its citizens, never mind the human rights of Jason Ivler, a US war veteran.” “Justice and equity are twin guardians that watch over men. From them are revealed such blessed and perspicuous words as are the cause of the well-being of the world and the protection of the nations.”(Baha’u’llah: Epistle to the Son of the Wolf Pages 12-13)

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Here was my reply: ”My god! I thought about this when I woke up this morning. In the back of my mind, a silent voice urged me to discuss this period in my life, but I was waiting for a sign. You are the catalyst, dear sister. Your passion has powered my declaration involving this so- called VIP treatment which Jsin apparently received while he was in the custody of QC jail. I will include our correspondence in my book.” “How could these maggots accuse my son of receiving VIP treatment? Judge Bayani Vargaz sent Jsin behind bars with two parts of his intestines sticking out through his gut, while he suffered with infections. Furthermore, Ivler remained in that dirty tuberculosis infested facility for two years while the government of the Philippines refused to grant his civil and human rights to receive proper medical treatment. Ivler stayed in jail in this horrible condition for two long years!” “IN MY EYES EVERY GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL IN THE PHILIPPINES FROM THE PRESIDENT DOWN IS GUILTY OF HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATIONS!” “There is no justice in the Philippines. You are not given justice by the system here. Therefore, if you want justice, you must take it.” “The wheel of fortune has turned in my favor. And I swear to all the gods in heaven and in hell that all the vermin, all the scum of the earth who stood in the way of justice and freedom involving my son Jason Ivler shall suffer my endless WRATH! In the name of all mothers who love their children, my words will come to pass. And if heaven shall give me sanction, I will annihilate evil in these lands if it is the last thing I do on earth.” As I wrote the above narrative, I could hear the words of the lady oracle in my head saying:

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“One day, the stars in the sky will align to pave the road for the true daughter of heaven on earth to fulfill her great destiny. Every man who stands in your path will perish for heaven shall pluck them out of your way. All those who stand with you shall rise with you, and all those against you will die. Corpses of dead men will surround you. There will be a sea of death.” August 2, 2012, I attended a hearing at Quezon city hall yesterday morning. This is because the NBI agents filed a case of obstruction of justice against me. My legal counsel on this case is Atty. R.J. Pascua, representing PECA Bar, a law firm partly owned by Juan Ponce Enrile, the author of martial law and the current Senate president. I adore my lawyer. He remains true to his profession, despite the horrible system he works in. He gives me hope for a better Philippines. The hearing had to do with my second arraignment. I had been indicted before, but apparently they made the mistake of putting the City of Marikina on the documents instead of Quezon. One word was out of place. According to my lawyer, I didn’t have to be present for this hearing but the DOJ prosecutors demanded my attendance. The place is always crowded, and you would normally sit elbow to elbow on the rows of wooden benches propped on both sides of the courtroom, which could each accommodate five persons. But yesterday, there were plenty of people standing in the backroom as well, because all the seats were taken. When I arrived in court, my lawyer was already there sitting on the first row with the wall to his right. Then I noticed Atty. Christina Barot representing DOJ sitting on the second row, at the opposite side of the bench, near the pathway. I walked into the chamber with my staff Jojo Rhodas who has been in my employ for 12 years. He stood in the back of the room watching over me. After greeting my lawyer, I found a seat at the end

371 MARLENE AGUILAR of the third row directly behind my lawyer. An overweight woman sat next to me with the most miserable look on her fat face wearing a white cotton blouse with long sleeves. I positioned myself close to the wall. There was no one sitting to my right, thank god. I put my coffee mug from Starbucks to my right And as soon as I was settled, I took out my iMac from my leather working bag, opened it and started working on this novel oblivious to the purgatory I found myself in. I loathe government halls in the Phlippines. They remind me of hell where fiends dwell. Eventually, the person behind me got up to leave. I noticed Jojo occupy the seat behind me. Instantly, I gave him my purse for safekeeping. I continued to type and work on this novel. Then I heard the clerk of court calling my name, asking me to come forward. There was a long table in front of the judge’s podium where prosecutors gathered awaiting their cases to be heard. A few of them with their backs facing me turned their heads to gaze at me when I stepped forward. Those legal representatives all looked like scoundrels to me. Most of the lawyers in this god-forsaken place are famous for their double dealings. I found myself standing three meters away facing the magistrate, while my lawyer stood to my right, less than two feet away from me. I noticed Christina Barot sitting right behind me. She’s a dwarf. So she stands only 4'5" tall, even with heels. I looked down at her and studied her. Meanwhile, Medea inside me hissed, craving for revenge at the sight of this nasty piece of earth fertilizer. Medea, my Lucifer demanded to leap out and take charge. It was then I realized the prosecutor from DOJ has a bald spot at the top of her head. Her shoulder length, wavy and unruly hair was dyed jet black, except three inches of her mane close to her scalp was silver white. Her hairdo reminded me of a skunk. It appears she

372 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS hasn’t had a dye job for at least three months. She doesn’t powder her face at all, despite the fact she has pale and bad skin. In addition, she wore black pants that are a size bigger, and she sported a black jacket over a white blouse that wasn’t ironed and tucked in properly. She was dressed as if some animal attacked her before she came to work. To complete her outrageous outfit, she wore red shoes, which had abolutely nothing to do with her brown bag. All in all, Atty. Maria Christina Barot of the Department of Jusitce looked like she had just stepped out of a nightmare. There she was, Lucifer thought, breathing her black energy at her next prey. After gauging her delicate emotional state, Medea decided that on this fateful day, August 1, 2012, she would push Christina’s wicked mind into the unknown. I’ve always hated this troll. She kept Ivler sitting in jail for two years with two parts of his intestines protruding through his stomach. The judge read some narrative from a paper folder, with his reading glasses while he absorbed all sorts of negative energy in the room. The power bouncing from all over the place was mostly from a place of blackness. The room was filled with endless anguish and pain. It was dominated by Lucifer. The magistrate wearing the black robe of Satan uttered some gibberish words before me like he was choking on a golf ball. What the hell do I care what he says? My fate will not be decided in this room anyway. Plus, I know all the government officials in Quezon City hall are for sale. “Gulity or not guilty?” the judge suddenly asked me. “Not guilty,” I said.”They are!” The judge looked at me speechless for a moment. Everyone around him was speechless for a moment.” “What did she say?” the bewildered judge asked the fiscal, his right hand in court.

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“She said she’s not guilty, your honor. They are,” answered the fiscal. Christina stood up from her chair. When she did, Lucifer adjusted my position so the judge couldn’t see her. The She Devil blocked her from the judge’s view like a wall. Each time she stuck her ugly flat face between my shoulder and my lawyer’s shoulder, Lucifer adjusted my body blocking her sight. “Strike the words ‘they are’ from her statement, your honor! It is irrelevant,” she shouted. After that, the judge called her to step forward, so she ended standing to my left. RJ Pascua, cool as can be, remained in his place. The judge continued his gibberish, except now he sounded like a golf ball rolled around his mouth. I found his speech as interesting as hearing mass in church, which is why I stopped going at age seven. As the judge went on, Medea pushed my body closer and closer to Christina. In my mind, I saw the essence of Lucifer leap out of my body, floating before Christina, her fangs protruding through her thick and venomous lips. In the blink of an eye, she raised her right hand and pounded on Barot’s chest with such precision, blood poured out of her profusely. Lucifer dug into her flesh pulling her vital organ out into the open, still pulsating and craving for life. The She Devil gazed at me, smiling her vehement smile, while she crushed Barot’s heart. She squashed it so hard forcing tiny particles of her heart’s flesh covered with blood dribble through her delicate fingers. Once satiated, the She Demon came back inside me once more to deal with reality of the court’s proceedings. The female dwarf stood in her place to my left, while my lawyer kept his position in the room. Then my demon turned my face to my left and whispered into Christina’s ear: “I’m going to disbar you,” Lucifer uttered softly, her sinful voice

374 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS captivating and sensual. Instantly, I stood up erect correcting my posture to face the judge again. “You will all face the wrath of Karma,” Lucifer whispered to Barot’s the second time, her disgusting and wiry hair brushing against my lips. That was it. She lost it. She started whining out loud to the judge like a teen age girl freaking out. “Miss Aguilar is talking to me! She’s saying all these terrible things to me!” she yelled, her voice trembling, filled with emotional disaster. “Tell the judge what I just told you!” Medea said facing her. She remained transfixed in her place staring at the judge while her nerves continued to shake. She refused to look at me. Her mind was gone, gone into the great divide. “Repeat what I said to the judge!” Lucifer demanded, still facing her. This time both my hands went up on both sides of my face while my demon spoke. Plus, my body charged forward intimidating the creature from DOJ. And like an idiot, she yelled in court,”WE WILL ALL FACE KARMA!” Upon hearing these words, I started giggling silently. In the meantime, the judge was utterly taken aback by the prosecutor’s wild performance. When he recovered from his surprise, he couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear shaking his face from left to right. Meanwhile, my lawyer stood catatonic in his spot. Furthermore, the rest of the people in court were in awe, in silence and in a state of disbelief. “YOUR HONOOOR! YOU MUST REPRIMAND MISS AGUILAR FOR HER BAD BEHAVIOR! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” Atty. Barot said screaming and trembling. “Miss Aguilar,” the judge said smiling a big smile, his eyes gazing at mine.”You may take your seat.”

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“Thank you!” I answered the judge, out loud and smiling. I went back quietly to my seat. And there I opened my laptop once more and continued to write this novel. Apparently, Christina continued to shiver and grumble before the judicial officer, unable to recover from our psychological battle. “Calm down,” I heard the judge say patiently, as I picked up my head to look at him.”Relax,” he told the lawyer from DOJ, smiling. After the hearing, I was told to sign a piece of paper as proof of my attendance. The clerk who sat at a small desk near the judge handed me a piece of paper. As I signed the document, I said to him,”Is there any government official in these halls that isn’t for sale? I haven’t met one I can’t buy.” He didn’t say a word. He only looked up at me beaming a warm smile. When we left court, my legal counsel and I stood around the lobby of city hall talking for a few minutes. “In all my years of practice, I have never seen a lawyer lose her mind in court. Atty. Barot was a mess,” RJ Pascua told me. “I can drive people off the edge,” I told my lawyer, amused. “I’m sorry I misbehaved, but I will do it again if they insist on my attendance when I’m not needed in court. Next time, I will bring the media and I will ask Barot in court if it’s true she extorted money from a US government offiicial. I will give that woman a heart attack!” I added. Why did Christina Barot lose her mind during the hearing? She was scared. According to a local government employee, she apparently demanded money from a US government official regarding Ivler’s hospitalization. Allegedly, she made a deal with a US representative that she wouldn’t oppose Ivler’s much-needed operation to restore his intestines back to normal if she was bribed. I was informed she accepted cash. Unknown to her, not only is there a witness to this

376 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS alleged crime, in addition, my informer said there is a paper trail proving the incident occurred. Do I believe I can have Atty. Christina Barot of DOJ disbarred from ever practicing law? As heaven is my witness, I do. Do I believe I can have every government official in the Phlippines charged for extortion regarding Jason Ivler’s case? As heaven is my witness, I can. I have a whole chest filled with paper trails along with witnesses to prove every single one of these vultures are guilty! Before I end this book, I would like you to read the essay, The Hunt once again. I would like to remind you that in my life, the hunted becomes the huntress. Powerful men have chased me since 2007, when Marcus and those US military men marched into Bulan with Caesar. Unfortunately, beginning with my father from when I was three years old, men have hunted me all my life. But they have become more powerful and demonic over the years. In my life, I have never lost a mental and spiritual battle against any man. In that sense, I have never found my equal. The best part of me will never surrender to any man on earth. The Hunt A man I believe I have never met has been sending me explicit sexual messages for the past three days, from dawn until dusk. During this period, he called me once so we could hear each other’s voice. I believe he also has access to my emails. I have the gift of sight. Through deep meditation, I am able to turn my being into pure energy allowing my soul to connect to another soul beyond the confines of space and time. Through this metaphysical process, I have been able to glimpse this man’s spirit and to peer through his psyche. Thus, I can sense that the man who is doing this to me, who is hunting me and seeking me

377 MARLENE AGUILAR out, was physically abused as a child by his own mother, a mother who was also very loving and caring. In addition, I feel another family member also sexually abused him. He has killed people by profession, a noble warrior in his own right. I shall never have the ability to describe in words the strength and power of evil and darkness that reign within him. From the sound of his voice and the way he speaks English he is not Asian. He is well-read and highly intelligent. He has depth. Given the way he spells and uses words, he is also interested in literature. He has excellent resources. However, like other powerful men I have known, he is not confident. He questions himself and his existence in this world. He is eaten by great guilt because of unspeakable things he’s done. And yet, the other side of his evil and dark personality is a very caring, loving and giving man, although no one gets close to him. He’s never loved anyone. I believe he is married, although I am certain his wife has no idea whatsoever who this man is, who her husband really is. She knows only a fraction of her husband’s personality. And she will never know the complexity of this man. She will never realize that she plays such a small role within the box he has created for them, a box of convenience he calls”family.” She will never touch his inner self. This man’s sexual personality is completely free. It goes beyond anything I have ever known. And I consider myself free. He has done his research on me well. He’s read the articles I have written, and to some extent, he has analyzed my psychological profile. And he is an excellent psychologist. He knows so much about me. He calls me”She Dragon,” and”She Evil.” He also says I have a heart of gold. In his eyes, I am angel and demon in one body. He says I have all bases covered. I am heaven. I am hell. I am also

378 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS purgatory. He is a good hunter. He knows what he seeks and why he seeks it. I am not afraid of him. I am only concerned that he may have the ability to hurt those close to me. I believe this man could never hurt me. Not directly. Bold and forward, he talks to me holding nothing back. He speaks to me believing he knows my inner self. And without hesitation, he bares his body naked along with his mind, his demonic spirit and his raging, savage soul confronting me head on and in full force knowing I am a great warrior like him, and that I do not fear. This man, whom I sense is as good and diabolic as I am in almost equal measure, has written such unimaginable things to me - things I do not believe are for public consumption. But here are some messages from him I feel I could share with you. He wrote: “Why would men want to control such a beautiful force like you, my goddess? It is like grabbing air and trying to control it. It is not possible.” “I go to sleep my love, thinking of you. I want to go to sleep with my manhood buried inside you.” “Sleep well, my love. When you wake up wet, you know I want you.” “I dream of the bonding of our souls, but if not in this life form, we can float away and dream of the next encounter. It is written in time.” “You are a heavenly soul, a warrior no one can control. You are that which does not exist in human form but for a moment in time.” “When souls such as ours collide, and bare themselves, nothing is hidden. Everything is out in the open, freeing one’s sexuality to explore that which has no boundaries.” “It is not common when two souls floating through the galaxies

379 MARLENE AGUILAR meet, but it has been said that it gives birth to unprecedented wonders.” “I want you like no other. You expand the mind and the body. I want to touch your soul and your body.” “Remember, I love you.” “We come from the same cloth, the warrior clan at a time when gods ruled the universe.” “And everything I tell you is what I want. Damn you! I’m serious.” “I want you for real, and I will make love to you anyway you want. I want to be deep inside you as I shoot my life into you.” “I want to kiss those lips of yours and suck in your taste.” “I saw you. I could smell you. Oh god! I could almost taste you.” “I have been touched by your beauty and sexual intensity.” “I am your slave. I must do as you wish.” “I want to hear you scream my name as I drive myself deep into you and cover your insides with my juices. My love, I want to explore those lips I saw the other day.” “I want you to surrender your body and your soul to me but not your mind. Your mind belongs to the people of the Philippines. Your mind is the conscience of the Filipino people.” “I must have you. I must penetrate your love. Spit me out afterwards but let me just taste you once.” “I want to lick the tears off your cheeks, as you cry softly with pleasure. And I will kiss you with the taste of your salty tears passing between our tongues.” “I want you to take me as a warrior goddess would ride into battle with her head back, her hair as black as the night, challenging and screaming her war cries to the gods.” “I want to break through that hardened outer shell of protection and hold that soft and heavenly inner core while I make love to you

380 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS softly through the night; making you squirm, listening to you moan and groan.” “God! My manhood screams for you with desire.” “I want to be owned by you. I want to fill you with desire. I want to fill your body with my love.” “You are mine and I am yours. Take me, my darling. Consume my love for you. I need your body and your soul.” “My fellow warrior, I want to kiss your tears away. Please tell me your wishes, your dreams and your desires. I am your servant, my mistress.” “You are to me a brave warrior princess, a symbol of greatness and beauty, reincarnated in this time, a goddess of the cosmic universe. I love you. I need you. My desire for you knows no limit. I want to serve you. And I will protect you with my life down to my last breath.” How do I respond to this? I have never heard such words from any man who has ever loved me. I am overwhelmed beyond explanation. He is addicted to taking risks, this man who has courage and passion beyond that of any man I have ever known. He thrives on danger and hungers for it like a vampire craves for blood. It makes him feel alive. I am the vicious flame. He wants to absorb the inferno and be consumed by it. In his mind, it is the most delicious act of danger, and he is begging for his chance. He would do anything to get close to the She Devil. He knows the flame will devour him yet he wants to see if he could recover from the impossible. He is aware that there is something greater to be had from confronting the unknown. I am the unknown. It is the once in a lifetime chance to see if he has the power to subdue this goddess of hell, whose body burns in fire, challenging his manhood for a duel he’s never experienced. For him, that would be the most precious victory.

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Men of power such as this warrior are attracted to me. It is the thrill of the impossible chase. I am the most valued trophy worth the ferocious hunt. These malevolent men of evil and darkness desire to be loved by a woman of power who understands evil and darkness the way they have lived it. They desire to be understood by such a woman. They want to submit to a woman who deserves their love, respect and admiration. They desire and need it badly. The reason for this is because each of these men was once a little boy. And each was raised and loved by a woman, by their mothers. These loving mothers had power over them, and their mothers also punished them when they misbehaved. Ultimately, they hunger for a woman to love and dominate them. So this man who is hunting me needs some control in his life. But he will only allow himself to be subjugated by a woman who possesses his powers of good and evil in equal, if not greater, measure. So, when such a man gets to know me, he becomes aware of my several personalities, my inner strength, my spirit and iron will, my complex sexuality, and he then becomes intoxicated.Within my being, he sees his mother, his lover, his whore, his mistress, his master and his savior. Thus, I am his heaven, his hell and his purgatory. Finally, he has found judgment day. Such men know I have the power to love them and punish them for their bad deeds. Where else are they going to find a woman who understands their evil to such exacting proportion and who will love them as only I can love - and subjugate them? I have idolized such men. And they have worshipped me. The truth is every single one of these men I have loved has come and gone thinking that each of them could conquer me. Each of them viciously struggled for me to bow down and submit to them. They wanted to command me. Deep within the center of their psyche was

382 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS the immense hunger to possess the angel and demon that is alive within me. I can’t be dominated. I will never be controlled. My life is mine to live. I know only freedom. It will always be the mother who has power over the child within a man. Ultimately, it is the woman that has power over men. Before I go on, I would like to share with you some narrative and tarot readings from Warriors of Heaven to enliven your memory. In the year 2008, Paulie predicted -”During the Age of Aquarius, there will be a clashing of two dragons, a black one and a white one. In ancient times these two dragons were depicted facing each other fighting over the flaming pearl floating between them, up above.” “In this time on earth you are the symbol of the flaming pearl. The two dragons tattooed on your back are the symbol of the clashing dragons. By instinct, you have permanently marked your body with the signs. And you are the pearl these two dragons are fighting for.” “We are now in the Age of Aquarius; East and West are fighting for dominance. The earth is at a tipping point struggling for life or death. Evil fights against good. If the black dragon triumphs, there will be more chaos, more death, more destruction and more disaster. The earth will be covered with blood. If the white dragon prevails, there will be a golden age, a golden era. Peace will reign. You and these two great warriors from your past will play a crucial role in all of this. The three of you were great warriors before, and all of you were reborn in this life with the spirits of dragons, crucial to the evolution of mankind and the earth. These two warriors stand by you on opposite sides. They are each other’s polarities, exact opposites, Yin and Yang. You are in the center, the cosmic conduit. G1 holds the celestial sword of fire. He is the sun, the child of Ra. His heart is pure like yours. He will purge.” Here are back-to-back tarot readings between the lady oracle

383 MARLENE AGUILAR and Paule five years ago. “On July 28, 2007, three days after I met Caesar, I visited the old seer and told her that I had met a man; I met a soul from my other past lives. The old witch spread the cards before me and started reading the tarot for the Eurasian commander for the very first time. “There is a connection between you and this man,” she began. “So what? He’s another fly then,” I replied. “No!” she snapped.”This one is not a fly like you call the men who are after you.” “So… if he’s not a fly. Then he’s a bee,” I answered, so sure of myself. The old lady looked at me with warning in her lucid eyes. “Brace yourself, my child. This soul has come into your being like a raging storm…” she forewarned. She got up from the table and laughed like a lioness. I wanted to bite her now… I could see what she saw. She summoned her counterpart Mr. Max to aid her in her ritual. The two of them inspected the most complicated arrangement of tarot I have ever seen during my life. “I have waited ten years for this day to come…” the old woman continued her reading. “This man will make you human. This man will crush your heart. He will bring you down to the ground and give you humility,” she proclaimed.” “When the old seer uttered these words of warning, she didn’t really mean that this person would literally crush my heart in this life. The oracles speak in riddles, and their predictions are not easy to translate.”He will bring you down to the ground and give you humility,” she foretold. This is because of the knowledge I have of

384 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS my past lives with this soul. Her words of warning meant, all the emotions of former lives will collectively haunt me in this particular life, cause me immeasurable pain, make me vulnerable, break my heart and make me human.” “I have been seeing these Buddhist seers for over 17 years and I have never seen them treat the tarot the way they dealt with the cards that day. They read my past and my future. They did the same for Caesar. For over three hours they attempted to trace my past lives with this Commander to explain the meaning of our union on earth in this singular space and time to me. I felt tranquilized from the experience. I sat in my chair, feeling faint, overwhelmed and in a hypnotic state because I could see the past and the future glaring before my third eye. I wept rivers of tears that day unable to accept what the goddess of the future, speaking to me from heaven, had laid before my path.” “The old seer continued.”For three consecutive lives, you have failed to finish karmic accounting with this soul. And for three consecutive lives, you have been terribly separated. Once you both lived together in a palace in China as members of the royal family. You vowed eternal love for each other, and you were separated.” “’You know you are a very old soul. You have shared a number of lives with this man, as mother and son, as rivals, as brothers, as comrades of war. Your souls are forever intertwined…’” the seers continued. “This man who comes from Asia will save you some day. You cannot fulfill your destiny without him. You must guide him for he is a prisoner of life. You must guide him out of darkness. Only then can he fulfill his great destiny. Where this man is going, very few will ever go…someday he will shine like the brightest star but only through you.’”

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“This man was born to be a great man. He will preserve the interest of his people and yours. But in order for him to achieve this, he must learn to have your wisdom. You are his spiritual mentor in this life…” the seers announced. “I sat in the chair and continued to cry, dizzy from the dream-like energy that surrounded the room. That evening I went home and meditated to travel into the past, so I could better understand what the oracles predicted. At the time, I refused to accept what I saw in the future because my life of peace, a peace that I had known for the past eight years, had changed. I cannot and will not accept this path, I told myself.” “I sent Caesar a text message on the evening of July 30, 2007. I told him that I had seen the old seers. He asked me what they said. I told him that if I shared with him what the oracles saw, he must promise to walk away from me and never come back. He said yes. This was his message to me after our agreement that night.” ’Thanks for the guidance and insight. You have touched my soul. It has been great talking with you. I am sure we will disengage from each other, but if we should meet again, then it is fate.” “Take good care of yourself. X!” “How do I explain in words what happened after that evening? I knew that I had to settle karmic debt with this soul. But I believe that all mental and spiritual acts are as valid as physical actions, metaphysics. So I decided to go back into time where this man and I had been torn apart by circumstance. Perhaps I thought if I re-lived this experience in another plane, then I would have succeeded in easing the karmic burden that awaited us in this life. In my time gazing, I saw that in another world, this warrior perished on my behalf. He died for me. So I told myself I would re-live this loss in this life to ease our pain from the past. I locked myself away at

386 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS home for two weeks. And for fourteen days straight, each morning I called Celeste, crying on the phone, explaining to her what I was doing, that I was mourning for the loss of a soul, the soul of Caesar in another time. Ohhhh… the patience of Celeste, I shall eternally be so thankful to her - how endearing, how caring, and how pure. In this time of darkness, she joined me emotionally in the temporary abyss where I had fortified my being. And for two weeks I pleaded to heaven that I should never ever see this eminent warrior again. I begged my guardian saints to protect me from my future. And for the first time, heaven turned its back upon her child, and my unseen guardians listened with deaf ears.” “After two weeks I stormed into the old augurs place.” “’Get him out of my life,’ I urged the female seer.” “’No! I will not,’ she snapped.” “’I do not wish the future you see in the tarot to be bestowed upon me. Help me perform a ritual to cast this soul out of my path. I can’t do it on my own. The forces of heaven are too strong,’ I said.” “This is the very first time I’ve asked the old lady to aid me in performing a ritual to cast a spell. The oracles believe that I was born with the ability to summon the essence of the five elements, which makes me a natural-born witch. Yet in the case of Caesar, I felt powerless.” “In my mind, I thought, ‘How can a mother inflict pain upon her son?’ For I feel deeply that Caesar was once my child in another time.” I couldn’t cut the cord that bonded me to this soul. I couldn’t do it alone. The lady oracle spoke once more. “’Together you and this man are unbeatable. You will change the course of history known to mankind. Together you will tip the balance between good and evil towards good. If you prevent this, both of you will perish,’ she warned.”

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“I do not accept this fate!’ I hollered.” “’I don’t care what you say!’ she screamed back. ‘You cannot defy the will of so many Buddhist warrior saints who surround you. Your future is not negotiable!’ she declared growling at me like a lioness.” “’You said I am one of these Buddhist saints reincarnated in this life. Therefore, if I am one of them, then I shall argue with them until the end of time and negotiate my future!’ I yelled back.” “’You cannot change what was decided in heaven since time immemorial. It is done. You will guide this man’s spirit. And when his celestial education is complete, nothing shall stop him,’ she declared.” “’He’s gone, anyway. I told him he should walk away from all of these prophecies. He promised he would. He’s gone,’ I stated.” “The old woman laughed like a wild beast once more pointing her finger at me.” “’He is not gone! Mark my word! He is not gone. There is no escape. He will be back,’ she warned.” “I left the female seer that day with a heavy heart. She has been like a mother to me all these years. And now we face the most difficult time in our relationship for I will not accept the path that they have so patiently guided me to accept all these years” “Paulie. Yes, I must see Paulie. I must talk to him. I need another perspective, I told myself.” “So the young Buddhist seer appeared at my home one afternoon. We confronted the deck of tarot he keeps exclusively for my use. He was the one who monitored the arrival of Caesar closely. For three months, from May to June and July, he had seen the forthcoming arrival of this warrior from heaven.” “’He is near, so near…’ he announced early in July.” “I sat across Paulie this particular day in August 2007, shaken and

388 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS afraid. Believe me, this is rare considering I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually very strong, confident and independent. Staring at the tarot, Paulie spoke:” ‘Like you, this man is not human. He brings forth his great energy from heaven. He is the warrior who has access to the celestial sword of fire. Luck is by your side as you begin a new cycle. You and this warrior with the sword of fire must unite. You will give him wings to fly. If you try to escape this union, we will all be doomed.’” “’I don’t want him in my life,’ I cried.” “There is nothing you can do. You cannot defy the will of the cosmic universe,’ Paulie answered.” Here’s more tarot reading from Paulie, year 2008: “’These days are very crucial to your future. There will be drastic changes in your life.’” “’Your detachment from Caesar is necessary. He will go through trial by fire. And it is only when he fully understands the powers that rule the world that he can achieve freedom from his boxes.’” “’Gabriel is far only in physical form but very close in spirit. He has dominated the tarot now for the past several readings and will continue to dominate.’” “’There is a new warrior in your life. He is the white knight. He will protect you. In spirit, you are this man’s salvation. And you will help redeem his soul. In return, he will give you justice, a fair sacrifice he shall bestow upon you for your kindness and compassion. But on earth, you may endanger this white knight. You must let him go. He will never, never comprehend the complexity of your existence on earth.’” “’You are protected from the eight directions of the earth. You stand in the center as the queen of swords. And even death is not your adversary but your great ally.’”

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“’Through you all is possible. And the power within you now lies in perfect balance. You will fulfill your destiny.’” Here are the words of the lady oracle that she’s repeated over the years: “You give the blood of life to those close to you. You give them life they have never known. This is your role for the people of the Philippines. You will free your people from ignorance. You will ease their pain and suffering. You will become an icon of hope and peace for the poor.” On March 20, 2008, regarding the Taoist saint Zhong Te Kung, the lady oracle said: “The spirit of this Saint awakens now at this point in your life for a very good reason. The time is ripe. The hour has come. He will grant you wisdom and omnipotence above all mankind because you are not human like the rest of us. Go home and do the ritual of acceptance. Allow the essence of this guardian, this ultimate warrior, into your life and he will guide you to greatness.” “You are protected by the spirits of the mightiest Buddhist and Taoist saints who were preeminent warriors of the past. Once upon a time you were with these Saints; you were one of them, a significant warrior thrown into this life to fulfill a great mission. Heaven sends you an invisible army of men to guide and protect you. All those close to you will rise with you. But every person who gets in your path, every person who tries to harm you will perish. All your enemies will fall - for nothing on earth will stop you from fulfilling your great undertaking. It is the will of heaven,” the old lady explained. In 2008, when I met the poet and psychic Alice Bernal in a state of trance, she told me: “You are such an advanced soul, the kind I have never known

390 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS before. Your darkness is so powerful and intoxicating. But the energy of good and light in you prevails.” “You are not alone. Forces unseen to man protect you. The green dragon on your arm is alive and powerful. It protects you. The Phoenix stands behind you and protects you too. Great storms are ahead of you. You are in grave danger. When the mighty storms come, the Phoenix will lend you its wings. And your wings will spread across the horizon with such magnificent force, and you will rise above the storms.” “You are not human like the rest of us. You are a goddess with many hands sent back to earth to fulfill a great mission. This is your last life, your last incarnation.” I listened to Alice in tears. How can she give me the words of the oracles, the same words? I thought and thought. How would she know so much of what that had already been foretold and after knowing me for only a few minutes? She is a devoted Catholic and has absolutely no clue about the five directions of the Tao diagram. How would she know that the green dragon of the east tattooed on my arm is protected by the Phoenix guarding the south? And how would she know about the goddess of compassion? “Are you afraid?” she asked. “No,” I said. “I have detached myself from all things on earth, including those I love. I am dead. I have accepted the worst. My life is not mine to live. I don’t struggle anymore. I trust heaven will guide me to fulfill my task on earth,” I explained. “You have great detachment because you are not human,” she whispered. She came close to me and with such deep and pure love, she hugged me tight for what seemed to me an eternity. I embraced her

391 MARLENE AGUILAR back with the same force, while weeping softly. And as she held my hands with hers, she gazed into my eyes once more, and softly she spoke again. “Someday, you will stand as an icon of hope and peace. And people shall look up to you like the goddess of light that you are.” She placed her right hand to her heart now and still staring at me, she whispered tenderly. “And when that time comes, I shall be so honored to tell people, I met you once,” she whispered to me gently. “I will never leave you in spirit. And I will do all I can to protect you with my love. You will triumph. You must make it. You must - for us, for all of us... for all of mankind.” The day after I met Alice, she sent me this email: “I cannot thank you enough for the generosity of your spirit. You are a gentle and magnanimous soul. May God lead you towards the light of your destiny to where the truth about yourself is ensconced within the Ark of the Covenant.” “You are one unfathomable lesson in life that teaches the essence of today’s”Duc and Altum,” or”Cast out to the Deep.” The grounding of the soul amidst the secular world is the emptying completely of the self for the freedom in the summit of ensuing metamorphosis one only encounters in”metanonia”. I will now take you back to the year 1997, when that mysterious man spoke to me behind closed doors. In Warriors of Heaven, I wrote: “In 1997, a man asked to see me. I went into a building in Makati at around 1pm one day and proceeded to the penthouse. There a man, who I had never seen before, waited for me. He took me to a room with a long table that could accommodate 10 persons. And there he and I had a closed-door meeting for over six hours.”

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“He stood about five foot ten inches tall. He had dark skin from spending plenty of time in the sun. His eyes were red and inhuman. Looking through his spirit, I knew he had killed people, god only knows how many. He had the face of a fierce warrior who had defeated death too many times. He had the magnificent presence of someone who was not human. His immense energy of good and evil was something I had never ever witnessed in any other single human being. And yet, he also had immeasurable compassion and love. His intelligence was beyond compare. And he was the most powerful clairvoyant I have ever met.” “He asked me many questions about yin and yang as if he was also a Buddhist oracle testing to see whether I could be the ‘right soul’… He asked me to answer these questions before he started to give me his long lecture.” “He had security in his penthouse. But when I left he told his bodyguards to stay back as he escorted me to the elevator. When the door opened, I stepped in and stood against the wall facing the door. The man held on fast to the door, keeping it open for a little bit longer. He stared at me with great sadness in his eyes silently mourning my departure. “You will never see me again,” he said softly.”But I will be watching you,” he added. He told me many things about the past, and about the future of the world. He told me of a secret army training near the shores of Mindanao. These warriors served his allegiance, he said. He informed me that some of the knowledge he gave me had not been written in books. He said he represented powerful men, men who are gods on earth. They own the world, he said. He talked to me about a spiritual being who they believed would be born in this part of the earth. And that it was crucial his

393 MARLENE AGUILAR brotherhood found this soul. There are those who would want this person dead he said. This human he informed me would change the future of the Philippines because she would empower the poor. This soul, he added will change the world. Here was part of our conversation that day. His portion of the dialog is in Italics. “Do you believe in good?” “Yes.” “Do you believe in evil?” “Yes.” “Do you believe in religion?” “No.” “Do you have guilt?” “No.” “Do you believe in god?’ “My faith is different from that of other men. I don’t see god in the physical form.” “How do you see god? “As energy with infinite blackness and lightness embracing everything here and beyond. What gives it endless power is all the energy coming from all forms of life, from the smallest to the biggest, here in this planet, and out there in the galaxies beyond. We’re all connected to this force, because it is us that give it life. And vice versa.” “How did you come to this knowledge?” “Through meditation, I achieve a state of supremacy on one hand, and nothingness on the other hand. I turn myself into pure energy leaving my body and this reality. From this point, I leap into the unknown, a place beyond the understanding of mankind. I go to the void where forces of yin and yang unite. There, I become nothing

394 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS and at the same time, I am everything.” “Do you believe the second Messiah is coming?” “No. Like the Jews, I don’t believe the true Messiah has come.” “Do you believe the true Messiah is coming?” “Yes.” “Are you afraid of the Devil?” “No.” “Are you afraid of hell?” “No.” “Are you afraid of death?” “No.” “Why?” “I will never die. My soul is eternal.” “Look at me and tell me how old you think I am.” “You’re in your early 50’s.” “I am a hundred and fourteen years old. And yes I look like I’m half my age. You know why? It’s because I perform a ritual using a magical book. Do you believe what I just said?” “Yes, I believe you.” “Will you hesitate to kill men?” “No. Not if it’s necessary for survival.” In the middle of the meeting, the man showed me a symbol. It was an ancient sign of a pyramid with the all-Seeing Eye at the center of it. It is something I had never seen before that day. And I have never seen it after. It is very close to the symbol the Illuminati uses, but this one was different in that, it looked more archaic in design. I’ve tried to search for the image on the Internet, but I could not find it. He also told me the following: “These powerful allegiances of men who rule the world believe in

395 MARLENE AGUILAR the ancient predictions that a warrior queen born in the east would rise into fame during the Age of Aquarius. Some will see her as Isis reborn, the savior of mankind and the earth. But some will declare she is Lucifer on earth, the antichrist herself. There are oracles that claim she will bear the number 666, the mark of the devil. Others say this Lucifer would fool the world by bearing the numbers 696 instead. It is crucial we find this person, because she will change the fate of man.” At the time, I thought he wanted to hire me to find this warrior queen they sought for. I didn’t realize they had marked me for the role. When I first met Gabriel in 2008, he sat across the table from me staring into my eyes. It was an ominous day I would remember beyond this life. I gazed back at him overwhelmed by the divine energy that besieged us. “Can you not see who you are?” he uttered softly.”You are only bound for greatness.”Did Gabriel know I have been marked as the warrior queen born in the eastern star? Did his imperious brothers send him to me? The oracles call him the key to the tower of destruction. I wonder now if I am the tower of destruction the seers saw in the tarot. All the chapters to Warriors of Heaven came with the ultimate blessing of Gabriel. He had the power to remove what he wished taken out of that book. Such was our agreement, and I followed his wishes. I asked one of the US military men in Warriors of Heaven to analyze my story. I asked him to help me better understand why the US government came after me so strongly. Therefore, after reading the book, he did some research. Eventually, he came to some conclusion.

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During our meeting one afternoon in 2009, he told me this: “I read Warriors of Heaven. It’s either you’re lying or they’re chasing you because you’re someone like Bin Laden. I don’t believe you’re lying. And you don’t look like Bin Laden to me,” he stated, frustrated. “I don’t know what the fuck you ever did. I don’t know what games you played with these men, but you’re fucked! You are so fucked!” he warned me. “There’s only one other reason I could think of why all this shit is happening to you,” he stated with sheer sadness in his eyes. “What? Why are they doing this to me?” I asked him, in tears. “There’s conspiracy involving your life.” The above correspondence between this American soldier and me was originally included in Warriors of Heaven. However, when Gabriel read it, he warned me: “Remove the conspiracy theory about your life from your book,” he demanded.”It doesn’t matter if it’s true. Remove it anyway!” Two days after I arrived in the Philippines from Grand Turk, I visited Jsin in jail. Before I left the house, I sent this message to Steve via Skype. “I’m so tired of fighting. I am now exhausted in mind, body, spirit and finances. What makes it even worse is when I have to fight Jsin. I’m on my way to see him. I hope we don’t end up in an argument. Jason is my kryptonite. Sadly, they know that and they will use him to control me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thank you for always being there for me. You have my utmost respect, and my love always.” I don’t know greater love than that which my son and I have shared in this journey. I feel like the umbilical chord connecting us when he was inside me was never severed.

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I don’t believe any mother, or any parent for that matter, was born to witness the torture of their son. The NBI men tormented Jsin physically before me while he bled close to his death. That moment is embedded in my memory so deeply that it will continue to haunt me for the rest of eternity. Since that day, my son and I have continued our battle against the evil that permeates the world. Here is a portion of my conversation with Jsin during my first visit to him after I returned from the Caribbean. His statements are in Italics. “I’m going in. I can’t fight them forever.” “Why don’t you just leave? Go to Grand Turk. You should have never come back.” “If I do that they will kill Steve. I can’t risk that. I can’t.” “You don’t know that.” “Yes, I do. The last time I disobeyed your father was dead in a week! I can’t risk Steve’s life. Maya needs her father.” “They will keep me here to make sure you fulfill their agenda.” “I can negotiate for your freedom. But you will have to get out of here. Take a new identity. Disappear.” “They will continue to chase me. I don’t trust them.” Jsin and I discussed our future, and the choices available to us, while inside me, I cried in silence. How much more pain do I have to endure? How could I choose between my son and Maya’s father? I cannot accept that Maya would grow up without her father knowing where my destiny is taking me; I couldn’t be there for her. I have decided to keep Maya and her father safe. Together, Jsin and I will take the risk. “Will you run for Senate?” “Yes.” “Promise me, when you’re president, and I’m still here, you have

398 CONDEMNED BY MILLIONS to send an assassin to take me out. I’m not going to be the carrot they dangle in your face.” August 17, 2012, before I end this book, let me share with you a message from Wes Penre, which I received on August 2, 2012 via email. He wrote: “I have such a deep respect for you and what you’ve done. Many are those who want to accomplish something similar to what you did, but few are those who really have the strong vision, focus, and intention to succeed to bring the soul’s vision into the physical realms at your capacity.” “You will always be in my mind, and when there are times I doubt my capacity and power to fulfill my own visions, I will always think of you and what you accomplished. Because then I know that ANYTHING is possible!” I shall drink wine from the same cup with your worst enemy, the greatest threat to the existence of mankind. And my journey is taking me to a great war. The tower of destruction shall unleash its full wrath against mankind, and blood will spill like never before. There will be an ocean of death. When all is said and done, I hope my life on earth was spent to protect the balance between life and death, between war and peace, between yin and yang. Remember, my future, this future, is as much my fate as it is yours, because my destiny is the destiny of all life on earth.

THE END

399 Author’s website: www.marleneaguilar.com