ROMANCE IS RAPE BY SEDUCTION

DIARY DATA ENTRY 1

Romance Is Rape By Seduction

By Adam Shane Lawes

MY DIARY DIGITAL DATA ENTRY 1 OF 145

My name is Adam and this diary data entry 1 of 145 diary data entries here as an artist is my story. I was born on the 4^th of August in Australia into a family of many mixed races so thankfully I cannot lay claim to belonging to any specific one. The first five years of my life were uneventful to say the least living in suburban Adelaide and surviving blissfully unaware in the alleged serial killer capital of this country. Then when I was five years old my parents moved my younger sister and I to the sunny hot and humid environment of the Gold Coast in Queensland, Australia where for the next couple of years we lived in a caravan trailer park and I thus started school as typical trailer trash. Then when I was seven years old and the divorce laws changed, my parents in the drunken chaos and breakdown of marriage and monogamy of what seemed to be typical trailer park trash living, decided to get divorced and my sister went to live with my mother and new stepfather whilst I lived with my father in a cheap rundown flat above a takeaway shop on the Gold Coast highway for the next four years. These four years however were the best years of my childhood as although the flat was rundown and the exhaust vent for the takeaway food shop downstairs released the greasy fumes right outside our kitchen window, it was never the less nothing like the dirty, disgusting, drunken environment of the trailer park. And even more importantly after two years of praying at the back of that caravan in bed nearly every night sometimes all night, I no longer had to hear my parents constantly fight. As then, although I hardly saw my father during weekdays as he was either working or hunting for a new wife, there was always adequate food money on the table for each day when I woke up, and he even bought me a guitar which I had asked for and which every weekend at my father’s wild parties that he held to rebel against his loneliness and a divorce he did not want, I had a drunken but attentive never the less audience to perform to. However these years of relative childhood bliss and personal freedom suddenly came to an end when I was eleven and my father introduced me to what was to be my stepfamily until I was sixteen years old and they are the cruelest people I have ever known - and where after too many years of every type of horrific abuse, I became hellbent on revenge at the age of sixteen years old as I planned and I tried to publicly sexually rape my younger thirteen year old stepsister at a family New Years Eve party - and this tragic event along with the other horrible events in my life has now left me living in a state of severe sickness, stress, despair, guilt, remorse, anguish and all alone with no hope for romance…and so here I am now hopeless and homeless hiding out in a cemetery in Melbourne.

DIARY DATA ENTRY 2

Romance Is Rape By Seduction

By Adam Shane Lawes

MY DIARY DIGITAL DATA ENTRY 2 OF 145

I am homeless and filled with constantly chaotically alternating anger and anxiety. So now with nothing else to do and to try and make myself feel better, I am now going to record my thoughts in this digital diary of mine using my Apple iPhone - which is the only thing of economic value that I now have left after being terminated from my job. I found out that I was homeless two days ago here in Melbourne, Australia when I received a phone call from my supermarket store manager where I had been stacking supermarket shelves at night doing horrible physically heavy and hard and mentally mundane manual labour since I dropped out of school as a troubled teenager with no self-confidence left after years of horrific teen abuse to try for anything more in life, and all the heavily disguised and hidden hope that I had of being an artist in the past was wasted wondering in unfulfilled artistic ambition with too many years spent lost struggling to survive working mostly horrible physically heavy and mentally mundane manual labour work that I hate along with too much drug use, drug abuse and drug addiction. And for the past week I had become increasingly sick with a bad case of the flu, and I was off work sick for 3 days due to the severity of the flu that I have - which would have also made it even more difficult to do the extremely horrible heavy and hard and mentally mundane manual labour work of lifting heavy boxes stacking supermarket shelves at night. However my supermarket store manager, who is an Australian originally from India, is a cruel, corrupt corporate, class driven person. And he is a cruel, corrupt, corporate person to both people of non-Indian origin and people of Indian origin, who work in the store in which he is the store manager, and who do not allow themselves to become enslaved by his cruel, corrupt corporate form of management. And my former Indian store manager has hired a lot of Indian students to work for him in the store in which he is the store manager - which is good for those Indian students as those Indian students are studying for their university degrees that cost them so much more financially than Australian citizens of any origin have to pay for their university degrees - and this is because of the greed of universities and the exploitation of international students - and in addition to this the Indian students also have to pay for their living costs here and are currently legally limited to a 20 hour limit working week. However there also seems to be an ulterior motive to my former Indian store manager hiring so many students who are studying here from India - because my former Indian store manager treats many of the Indian students that work for him as if they are not working for an hourly rate - as those Indian students are legally meant to be and should be - but they are instead manipulated by fear by my former Indian store manager to do unpaid work in order to keep their jobs - and thus my former Indian store manager wrongfully exploits and uses many of the Indian students that he has employed to work in his store. And in addition to this, despite the majority of the students from India being honest and hard working - even despite being unfairly exploited by my former Indian store manager and also not liking him because they see him as a cruel, corrupt person - (one student from India, who is a very honest and sincere person, said to me that the Indian store manager is one of the meanest people that he has ever met). However, despite the majority of the students from India who work for my former Indian store manager being honest and hard working, even though they do not like my former Indian store manager - There is unfortunately a small group of students from India, and also a group of former students from India who now have permanent residency and who work in the store as permanent workers for my former Indian store manager, and who are all very loyal to my former Indian store manager - and they are just as corrupt and conniving as my former Indian store manager - and they do some of my former Indian store manager's corrupt corporate work for him - for example those specific Indian students will tell lies about Australian workers to set them up so that my former Indian store manager can then easily terminate them - and also those specific Indian students without permanent residency here in Australia also then try to get their PR here in Australia by trying to be informants for the Australian government by telling lies about Australians to try and curry favour with the Australian government so that they can get their PR based on the government corruption that they are used to dealing with back in their homeland of India - and also in the workplace that specific group of workers originally from India also receive special treatment from my former Indian store manager - which then makes the workload on everyone else so much harder - and they also try to make the workplace and workload as difficult as they possibly can to those in the store who don't allow themselves to become enslaved by my former Indian store manager's form of cruel, corporate corruption. And despite the fact that I am obviously not from India and nor am I of Indian origin, my former Indian store manager treated me as if I was someone that he could constantly exploit and make my life as horrible as he possible could - and the reason for this was most likely that my former Indian store manager has an extreme class based view of the world - and because I am from a poor background, my former Indian store manager wrongfully treated me like I was a non-Indian version of an ‘untouchable’ - and thus my former Indian store manager enslaved and exploited me and worked me into the ground until I became extremely rundown and sick because he was constantly threatening me with my job and looking for any excuse that he could to terminate me, which included making me do masses and masses of unpaid hours of work - which I stupidly did out of fear of losing my job and being made homeless - like I am now. So for the past year I was worked into the ground until I became increasingly rundown, and then finally very sick now with this bad case of the flu. However my former Indian store manager rang me up and accused me of lying about being sick and he then accused me of trying to use up my paid sick leave - and then my former Indian store manager told me that I had been terminated and replaced. And when my former Indian store manager phoned me up and told me this, I finally swore and cursed him with all my pent up anger, and told him that I hoped that one of his deities, specifically Kali, would punish him for his wrongful behaviour. And then my former Indian store manager then told me that he would be writing down my reason for termination as "misconduct" and faxing it immediately to the Government unemployment office. Which later on yesterday I found out to be true, as when I rang to immediately put my name down and apply for unemployment benefits, I was told that I would have to wait for 2 months for unemployment benefits because I had been terminated from my job for misconduct. So with me being now unemployed, and my rent being due at the room in the rooming house that I had been renting, and me being unable to pay it for an impossibly long and out of the question period of 2 months, I packed up my belongings, handed the key to my room in, and now I am homeless and hiding out here in constantly confusing and alternating anger, anxiety and angst at Melbourne Cemetery.

DIARY DATA ENTRY 3

Romance Is Rape By Seduction

By Adam Shane Lawes

MY DIARY DIGITAL DATA ENTRY 3 OF 145

It is night again and I am once again at Melbourne Cemetery. I woke up and managed to get a few hours sleep in the early hours of this morning, and when I woke up I hid amongst the tombstones when the cemetery gates opened, and then I left an hour later and came back to the cemetery again when it was closed and dark. I have the chance for the rest of the night, to here and there, write in this digital data diary to try and make myself feel better, and to also try and get a sense of what went wrong and what I should do now that I am homeless. Today I went and enquired about how I can get food, and I found out that there is a church charity meal van that parks every night in the carpark of the industrial markets in the central city of Melbourne - (ironically itself once the major inner-city cemetery of Melbourne until the rush of the industrial revolution caused the old gravestones to be removed and the many buried city coffins to be concreted over into a carpark for Melbourne’s major city markets) - and it will only take me about 20 minutes to walk there each evening from here at the cemetery. And I am still cursing my former store manager, who is from India, for terminating me from my job and also lying to the Government unemployment office and making me homeless. For I am now homeless, down and out, sick with the flu, and hiding out here in Melbourne Cemetery because of him. However I will have my revenge upon him by exposing his cruel, corrupt, wrongful behaviour in this digital data diary of mine - because as the tattoos on my hands state - "Art Is A Weapon". And I have now started to work out a plan of survival and a way that I will not get caught living here at Melbourne Cemetery. First I wake each night in the evening when it is dark, just as my body is use to after working nights for more than twenty years since I was a teenager. Then I go to the small, secluded block of toilets at the back of the cemetery, which is always left unlocked, unlike the main toilets at the front of the cemetery, which are locked at the end of each day. And there, using the light from my Apple iPhone, I go to the bathroom and wash and then shave using the cut-throat razor that I bought, and the soap that is always there. After that, I go back and hide my belongings in the tombstones, and then using the light from my Apple iPhone to guide me, I walk to the back of the cemetery and use one of the trees that are growing near the spiked and barb wired back fence of the cemetery, to climb over the sharp and spiked cemetery fence. From there, dressed in one of my two black suits, and wearing my black beanie, I walk down to the carpark of the industrial inner city markets to the church charity meal van to have my daily - or more specifically nightly - meal of soup and bread. And whilst I am waiting for the nightly church charity meal van to drive up and park in the carpark of the industrial Melbourne markets of the central city, I use one of the many electrical power-points that are at the back of the industrial storage warehouses in the carpark there to charge up my Apple iPhone as I wait for the church charity meal van. So this solves the problem of keeping my Apple iPhone charged and both it and myself alive. For now that I am homeless and hiding out in Melbourne Cemetery, as long as I only use my Apple iPhone for this digital data diary of mine, I will be able to both keep it charged for my nightly digital data diary writing, and also hopefully get by for a fairly long period on the fairly large amount of pre-paid credit that I have left on my Apple iPhone - because before I got sick and was terminated from my job and made homeless, I was happily spending all my spare money on stocking up my new Apple iPhone with pre-paid credit so that I could buy and download a lot of music and videos for my Apple iPhone. However now that I have been unfairly terminated from my job and denied unemployment benefits because of my former corrupt supermarket store manager, and I am now homeless and hiding out here in Melbourne Cemetery, I am only going to us my Apple iPhone to discreetly light my way when necessary at night, and then use my Apple iPhone to write these nightly digital diary data entries of mine. So anyway, after I have gone to the carpark of the industrial Melbourne markets and recharged my Apple iPhone and had my nightly meal from the church charity meal van, I then walk back to the cemetery, and using the light from my Apple iPhone, I set up my sleeping bag beneath the tree, and write here on my Apple iPhone in my digital data diary, and then fall asleep for a few hours until I am woken up by the light of day in the early morning. Then I go and hide my belongings and myself in the tombstones and wait until the cemetery opens. After the cemetery is opened, I then walk around in the cemetery throughout the day, and before the cemetery closes, I leave and then come back once it is dark and the cemetery is shut again, and then I can do the same nightly ritual again. So the problem of going to the bathroom, washing, shaving, getting food, charging my Apple iPhone, and having lighting has all been solved. In terms of my clothes, I have two sets of black suits, and I have worked out a way that I can wash my clothes once a week. As I can use the hot water tap and the basin in the bathroom that I use to wash myself in each night, to also wash the second black suit that I have on a weekly basis. And I have found a tombstone that is hidden very discreetly beneath a large tree in the middle of the cemetery that I can hide and hang my black suit over it to dry, and where I doubt that it would be seen, and where it also looks like my clothes will be fairly protected whenever it rains. So that solves the problem of cleaning my clothes here and there. But besides the obvious fact that I am homeless, this situation is not as good, for the want of a better term, as it could be. For it would be better if I could have somewhere to hide and sleep during the day, as I am used to doing, and that way I can wake up each night and get ready, go to the church charity meal van, and then come back and stay up all night, and then hide and go to sleep in the morning before the cemetery opens. It seems as if the security patrol always drives through the cemetery each night sometime between 1am and 2am in the morning. So it would be also better if I could be more hidden at night so I don't have to worry about the security patrol ever seeing me unexpectedly. However I don't yet know of such a place where I can hide at night, and then sleep in the cemetery during the day though. So tomorrow I am going to look around the cemetery for a better place to hide and sleep in.

DIARY DATA ENTRY 4

Romance Is Rape By Seduction

By Adam Shane Lawes

MY DIARY DIGITAL DATA ENTRY 4 OF 145

It is night again and I have made some ground today. Earlier today, when I was wandering around the cemetery, I found an old grave that had one of those stone encasements over the whole grave. The lid to this stone encasement was cracked and separated in one of the back corners over the whole grave, which gave me the chance to push it aside and look inside. Inside this stone encasement, there is an area of approximately three feet high by six feet long and a metre wide, which is enough for me to slide the stone lid back, spread my sleeping bag out, hide my bag in there, and slide in there, and then slide the broken piece of stone lid back again over me, and roll into my sleeping bag and zip it up. And although it hasn't rained since I've been made homeless, this is Melbourne so I am going to be in for a lot of rainy weather. So now I can lay inside there at night, and also be protected from any rain, and also the coming autumn and winter cold weather, and I also have enough space to lay on my side, and write here in my digital data diary. And then when morning comes, I can go to sleep, and be hidden and protected in there all day, and then wake up and go to the cemetery bathroom and get ready, and then go and get my nightly meal from the church charity meal van, and then come back here again. And I can also keep my sleeping bag and belongings hidden in there and safe from the weather. So now I am going to go and clean out the grave encasement and set myself up in it - so it is goodnight from me tonight.

DIARY DATA ENTRY 5

Romance Is Rape By Seduction

By Adam Shane Lawes

MY DIARY DIGITAL DATA ENTRY 5 OF 145

I am lying down inside my sleeping bag hidden inside this stone encasement of this grave, and now typing on my Apple iPhone here in my digital data diary. And although it feels a bit creepy to be lying on top of someone's grave, never the less, for the first time since I've been made homeless, I finally feel some sense of comfort and being protected, however strange this new situation may be. The grave encasement that I am now 'living' in, is of a girl who died in 1939 at the age of 16 years old. There were a few other old graves with broken stone encasements, but when I saw the grave of this girl and her age, I thought that if I am going to be haunted for sleeping inside someone's grave, then at least I would like it to be by a girl who is sixteen years old. And her grave is an old grave and it doesn't say anything about her life. But I don't feel any bad vibes or anything, like I am disturbing her soul or something like that. Also, there is a small statue of a female angel over her grave, and in some strange and sublime way, it makes me feel a little bit more welcome and protected here.