Ah yes, the sixties! The Beatles, poker dot bikinis, Carnaby Street and Free Love. Yes yes, the sixties with retarded children bum fucked for being put up for adoption! Have I caught your attention oh quiet populous of Britain? Some information came my way some years ago, that children who were put in adoption homes back in the late sixties - early seventies, were experimented on by our own UK Military. That kind of information remains sensitive to this day, and I am unwilling to disclose at present where it came from, but it was from a valid intelligent source. Let me go further into this, let me divulge your worst nightmare as a British Citizen. Let me tell you how it is, as one person who was once put up for adoption at a very early age. I am a forty-seven year old male, who has a life behind him which is not recognisable as something you may have undergone yourself. My life’s account, has pitfalls and holes, and deep troughs that I cannot account for, yet when I put it all together, it makes for a life you would not want your worst enemy to live, for it is dehumanising and beyond the point of recompense. I say recompense, because there be no amount that could recompense those that have been at the mercy of child abuse. And digging into my own memories, the opaque memories and the more tans-lucent ones, I know there to be a cover up that stems from the very government we vote for even when fearing it makes no difference. I have memories, not unlike that of a remote viewer, that come to mind at the most improbable times. These memories I speak of, tell of a world of child abuse I have been at the mercy of.

When I was born, my ma told me in later years, that my grandpa said to her to put the ‘bastard’ in a home! My Ma’s account - not mine! She told me that she did in fact put me up for adoption two weeks into my life, but she came and took me back after some six months. Alas, it was not to be the first time I was put up for adoption, or to spend time in foster homes. I blame my ma for an awful lot, because an awful lot befell me upon her style of nurturing. From breaking cots that I was placed for hours in, to the times I was often left alone - I could remark at a world of neglect. The beatings, the punishments for crying out, for the times I was locked in rooms drinking my own urine and eating my own excrement; I know my ma to be unwell! And there, be the ‘get out’ clause many negligent parents look for. It’s on offer, but at a price, a price I fear my ma dare not spend, and that, be honesty. My ma, to this day denies all knowledge of harm that she or anyone undertook upon my person. But my memories are real, from laying in bed unable to excrete matter for my ruptured rectum, to the memories I have in dormitory style accommodation where ‘other’s bullied me as a 4 year old, the memories, although sometimes vague, continue to plague me to this day. It has taken me some forty-seven years to come to terms with the visions that peer at the edge of periphery of vision, for those memories, make mockery of the notion that ‘mother’s’ have their own child’s interest at heart. Now, after a childhood of abuse where even teachers were complicit, and an adult life where a snub has been issued, I now find myself strong enough to talk about all that ‘other’s’ do not want you to hear of. And when I say other’s;’ that, stems not only from parents who bore children to the sixties, but also the police, and the MoD.

Intrigued; I am not, I am absolutely heart broken by all that has happened to me. But what makes matters worse, is that my own mother, my own womb I come from, will not admit to the beatings that she undertook upon my person. Some say this is blasphemy and taboo, that someone should speak ill of one’s mother, be against human nature. But until we negotiate with ourselves that some mother’s do need help, we will forever be covering up the sad reality that some mums are just not geared up to have children. DO YOU REALLY THINK I AM RELISHING THIS? I am not, I am heart-broken that I have to shout about this part of our living. Now I know in myself, my ma to be a person that has stricken me with an awful lot of hurt. But what concerns me more than anything, is just exactly who is responsible for children that are given up for adoption at an early age, and placed at the mercy of an establishment, that more and more people, are claiming to have caused so much brutality towards them! I for one, may remain at the mercy of peaks and troughs concerning the memory of all that happened, yet I know more and more people are out there wanting their voice to be heard where these issues are concerned. I myself, I am at the mercy of memory, but society has in me a dysfunctional person that society has to pay for. What seems apparent, is that society will cover up these issues, regardless of human rights, and think, it can get away with it. Just where exactly are your children going, when you put them up for adoption?? And just what exactly, is happening to them? I come from the sixties, so much to answer for, but a child of this day and age should have no pitfalls and troughs that they cannot account for. Because if they do, the chances are, they have memories they are harbouring, which they do not want to become public knowledge, and that, be accounts by proxy, they are brainwashed into believing, just, to keep people ignorant; and at the mercy of National Security.