As a child, I spent a lot of time on the beach and in my mid-teens when I went to live with my father, I spent a lot of time in the mountains of Eaton Canyon in Altadena, California, where I went to meditate a lot. At home, I suffered a lot from my family not wanting me to be a part of their lives so I was able to compensate for this feeling of neglect in the Mormon Church where my home teachers and older friends became my big brothers, and the children of the Primary Program that I volunteered at every Tuesday were my adopted little siblings.  I had wonderful buddies in the Scouting Program where I earned my Wilderness Survival merit badge and learned to swim along with many other valuable skills.  As a result of these adopted families consisting of older, younger, and approximate same age siblings, adopted mothers and fathers, and therefrom aunts, uncles, grandparents, more siblings, cousins, and friends that I cherished more than anything I have cherished to this day, I had probably the best childhood a young man could ever have.  I also had a best friend, Ronnie Davidson, who passed away at a young age from what I understand from his neighbor.  I assumed that I had done something to upset him and discovered that that was not so.  All these years of him not speaking to me was as the result of his having passed away and therefore not being able to keep in touch.  As the result of my homelife being psychologically empty, bitter, and full of grudge-bearing, all of which I wanted no part of all my life, I probably had more freedom and more opportunities to explore life than most kids my age during those days.  I was a very happy young man.

 

At the turn of the '80s, I decided to serve a mission for the Mormon church.  During that time, my oldest brother, another older brother, and this latter brother's girlfriend came to stay with my father, stepmother, and me.  My stepmother was my best friend and confidante during this time.  She was also my protector while these brothers were extremely abusive toward me and caused all sorts of havoc with the household we lived in.  During that time, I was either a sophomore or junior in high school and did quite well in school prior to their arrival. 

 

There was a long period of about two or three weeks where the three who came to stay with us would eat all the food in the cabinets and not replenish it, literally stuffing their cheeks with food and telling me to get a job to earn my keep and food, spitting food particles in every direction while talking, not letting me eat for days.  Neither would they get a job to pay for the food they ate gluttonously, especially considering all of their work experience, one having just come out of the Navy while the other used to own a music store.  As they would eat, they would block me from getting to the food in the cabinets and the refridgerator with the threat of further physical abuse.  I was so hungry during these days that I was beginning to have problems concentrating in school and began eating the unripe apricots on the trees in the front and backyard.  The younger of the two brothers found me on the living room floor one night after I had fainted from extreme hunger and called for an ambulance.  The nurse said, "I know exactly what your problem is, young man.  You need a nice big hamburger and a shake with fries!"  My father and stepmother were not too happy when they received the bill later on in the mail.

 

During that time, neighbors complained about their band consisting of an electric guitar, drums, and a tamborine and an amplifier that worked very, very, very well.  Neighbors complained about all the loud "noise' which it sounded like to my ears as well, nothing close to my Beach Boys music.  Around the time that I decided to serve my mission, these brothers began to threaten my life if I did not recant my religion, even to the extent of one holding me down while the other kicked me, beat me, slugged me in the face, and punched my stomache over and over again, until I somehow broke away and locked myself in my bathroom for about ten hours or until my father and stepmother came home.  Because my father refused to evict them for child abuse, my stepmother asked them to leave very politely because of their annuisance and abuse.  She could have given a ton of reasons to evict them, but her main reason was for my protection, which my own mother never provide me.  After they left, they ran to their mother and told her that their wicked stepmother was being mean to them and added to the other reason for their mother hating her even more. 

 

My stepmother protected me, encouraged me to achieve my goals and fulfill my dreams, listened to me when I needed someone to talk to, especially if a need came up in my life that I could not talk to my own parents about, and helped me get the clothes I needed and liked rather than give me the hand-me-downs that my mother would give me from my brothers all the time.  In fact, she was the one who helped me get my first real job which was at Fedco in Pasadena.  She was an angel in my life and passed away four days before her 44th birthday after suffering from years of cancer.  Her death occurred, according to her death certificate, from choking on her flem and not the cancer she was suffering from.  This transpires when someone gives a cancer patient too much happy medicince (morphine).  Because of circumstantial evidence and conversations that I had with my stepmother around the time she became sick, I suspect her money hungry little sister did this to her.  One of the frustrations that my stepmother had was the suspicion that this particular sister was having an affair with my father.  I never suspected such until around the time that my stepmother was upstairs, bedridden.  I entered the house and found my father and aunt engaging in behavior not becoming of a man whose wife is directly above you dying.  This memory stuck with me even after his funeral which I refused to attend.  Eventually, this little sister of hers married my father for his money and, according to my father, under a lot of pressure from her money hungry family.

 

Interestingly, my father died under similar circumstances, but this time, in December 1997 my father told me that he feared that my second stepmother was going to do something terrible to him and that the two brothers I mentioned above were going to take part in it.  To this day, I believe that the reason his death certificate speaks of his malnutrition and diabetic coma prior to being pronounced legally dead are as the result of the three conspiring to kill him through elderly neglect for his money.  My father told me many other things that last day I saw him alive that cause me tremendous suspicion regarding these brothers and my father's third wife.  The three are wandering free, having literally gotten away with murder.  Now I worry for sister-in-laws and the most recent spouse of this second and former stepmother.

 

Because I have not kept in touch much with any relatives for the past few decades, I am not sure if my mother is still alive and do not believe that I will be advised one way or another when that day comes.  Due to the grudges over my befriending those my family holds grudges against and other grudge-holding that seem to be a significant characteristic of my family, not having my family in my life for the most part of my life, and having been abandoned by them in time of need such as when my wife and I were homeless, and to maintain the peace that my wife and I enjoy in our lives, I prefer to continue keeping them out of my life as well as anyone else who is a threat to my peace.  Interestingly, these family members I have not interacted with for most of my life seem to know more about me than I do, at least from what I hear, and none of which I know about having ever happened in my life these past few decades.

 

Due to the threat on my life by my oldest brother if I attempted to serve a mission for the Mormon Church, I wrote the First Presidency of the Church, and they advised me to go to Ricks College for refuge.  I spoke with my bishop and showed him the letter.  He advised me to speak to the president of the college when I got there.  I left home and stayed with a couple of friends and emptied out my bank account of $200, then headed for Rexburg, Idaho.  When I arrived and contacted the president of the college, he did not expect me, so he referred me to his secretary who took me home, got me a job on the college campus where I received most of my landscaping and gardening experience and which experience I was to use later in life in many, many ways.  She then placed me in a dorm with about three or four roommates.  Before I knew it, I was down on my knees praying for job that would help me serve my mission.  While on my knees, I had a vision of an old man offering me a job.  Stranger than all can be, this vision was interrupted by a banging on the door, the very same door that my twin brother would knock on to introduce himself to me only a few days later.  I opened the door, and, lo and behold, this handsome little man about my age, glowed with a grin from ear to ear.  The first thing out of his mouth was, "Does anyone here want a job?"  Of course, I was astounded.  I stuttered for the first time in my life and exclaimed, "Yeah!  Yeah!  Doing what?"  He said, "Working at the Rexburg Food Center."  Soon enough, I met that man in the vision weeks later.  He owned the Rexburg Food Center just down the street!  That was how I earned my keep.

 

While working at the store, I met one of the most beautiful women I have ever met and her three children whom I adopted in my heart as my own.  In my heart, they were as much a part of me as my own was.  I babysat for her often and became real good friends for years to come.  When I think of her, I can't help but think of her beautiful smile and most encouraging words all the time.  I have to say that she was indeed among the most cherished friends I have ever had, but not in a romantic or sensual way though.  I never thought of her in that way, but I indeed can understand how she was seen that way by other men.  She took me to her church where I announced my desire to serve a mission.  Then a member of her ward (Mormon congregation) approached me one Sunday and asked me to be her houseboy and earn money for my mission.  While living with her family of seven children and her husband on about an acre of land, we planted half an acre of corn late in the season and were hit with a hail storm that destroyed all the corn crops throughout the county of Madison.  Because we planted late into the season, the hail storm did not affect our crops and resulted in the county and surrounding counties relying on my crops which we sold, ate, gave away, and enjoyed.  It paid for my mission, and I came home with over $800 in my bank account which was held in trust by my bishop.  I returned from my one and a half year mission in the Japan Osaka Mission on my birthday in 1984.  As Linda Eames said at my farewell service, the fiery darts of the adversary attacked my health throughout my life.  This remained true throughout my mission and even to this day. This fact causes me to realize the glory of my Lord who makes His will be done in ways that we often do not imagine.

 

 

On March 8, 1997, I woke up to discover that the left half of my face and limbs were not responding properly.  My wife, Linda, pulled me out of bed when she saw my eyes twitching and that I was not able to get out of bed.  I lost my ability to speak although I could hear.  Linda helped me into the shower and to get dress.  I struggled to eat.  I could not afford medical coverage, so I could not do anything but limp to work.  That morning I had a rough time getting onto and off the bus, and, upon exitting the bus, the back door closed on me and the bus continued down the road with me half in and half out.  When the bus driver stopped after all the yelling of passengers about me hanging in the door, he stopped, opened the back door, let me drop to the ground onto my side, and continued on.  No one helped up, but I made it to the office.  Many notes passed between my client and her employees that day.  That was my first experience with writing backward.  From that time forward until now, I have remained very weak on the left half of my body, except when I receive Toradol shots, or when I receive deep tissue massages along my spine, or when I sit in an electric massage therapy chair at Brookstones in the Mall. These exceptions take away the weakness for days at a time.

 

That was also the beginning of when my old clients began to notice as they invited me to return as usual that my short-term memory was deteriorating.  Soon enough, by 1999, my repeat business began to diminish to the extent that I had to rely on temporary employment agencies a lot.  I drove for Access Services, Inc. for two years to keep up on the bills, and by March 2000, my business completely failed as the result of the consequences of my self-diagnosed stroke which was later confirmed by a medical exam at a hospital in the San Gabriel Valley.  From that time forward until a work related injury at a gas station, I have not been able to work due the deterioration of my short-term memory, the weakness on the left half of my body, my CFIDS that requires that my wife sometimes bathe me, dress me, hand feed me, lift me out of bed and into a wheel chair, and lift me out of the wheelchair and put me to bed, and getting lost when I forget where I am, where I'm going, what I was doing, and so forth.  At the time of my writing this brief autobiography, I am fortunately in remission.  It's just frustrating how quickly I tire out now.  In my younger days, exercise and strenuous activities only made me more energized and stronger.  Now, they land me in the wheelchair from hours to months.

 

In November 1997, I was in my office at a client's facility reminiscing which became more common for me since the stroke.  That's when the Voice first spoke to me about my mission which I now call World Citizens SIT Ministries LLC.  You will read much of what followed thereafter in my book, "An Economic Proposal: Fact Becoming Reality."  As I mentioned, I saw my father for the last time the following month, and I feel fortunate to have been able to hug him and say, "Dad, I love you" one last time.

 

Not having friends or family to reach out to initially for help in dealing with the health issues evolved into a mental health issue, homelessness, a suicide attempt, and other trauma.  I have thus become more sensitive to the needs of those who have become wrongfully stereotyped, victimized, and entrapped by an ignorant, illiterate, shameful, and symbolically cannibalistic society that exists in the United States.  I have acquired the honor to serve as a member of the Tri-City Mental Health Commission and as a Member of the Board of Directors of the California Association for Local Mental Health Boards and Commissions, positions not of honor or gratitude from constituents, but voluntary positions as a public official.  Meaning has been put back into my life from the opportunity to participate in these establishments after having lived from 1988 to 2000 with my life's whole purpose being to serve in the capacity of an independent contractor and completely closing down shop by December 2003 to living the life of internal jihad that grew worse until November 2005.  Between December 2002 and January 2006, I was sick physically and in and out of the wheelchair a lot due to a back injury and toxic poisoning on a job that exacerbated the symptoms of the stroke I had many years prior.  My dear wife with her own mental illness straining our relationship continued in helping me eat, bathe, dress, and undress.  Sometimes she had to interpret for me when my voice was lost.  Now, my whole focus is on the mission of World Citizens SIT Ministries LLC which without friends or family to support me in this effort is a challenge that literally takes a toll on my body and mind.  I always seek partners in manifesting the projects and programs of World Citizens SIT Ministries and hope to find you among those guiding it along and helping me reach its goals and objectives as well.

 

I am grateful for and feel I should acknowledge those who have helped us in time of need to help us get through some of the toughest of times.  While we were homeless, a few of our friends were there for us numerous times when we needed water and food and a couple of friends helped us with our move from our emergency shelter to our first apartment since we became homeless.  There were also organizations that came to our rescue with regard to food and eventually housing, but to learn more about those who have helped us you can read a little more in my book "An Economic Proposal: Fact Becoming Reality."  Some friends contributed money and personal things, so although our families abandoned us 99.9% of the time, I have to praise Providence for those who were an important aspect behind our ability to survive what otherwise could have killed us.  I have kept track of my gratitudes at http://groups.msn.com/TheKingstonFamilyWebsite/thankyounotes.msnw for years now.

 

As for education, I turned down a $5,000 scholarship for a Business Degree when I graduated from high school due to my major being in child psychology at the time; however, I did not go to Rexburg to go to school.  I went to Rexburg, Idaho, to avoid the threats of sibings doing harm to me if I did not recant my religion and testimony of God. I also went there because I wanted to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Meanwhile, I pursued my associates in Psychology at Ricks College, a Mormon owned college, for about a year or two.  What an excellent education that was!  This school challenged me in ways that made my next two college experiences a breeze.  From there I left for the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah, thanks to my friends the Eames Family who helped me grow half an acre of corn to raise money for it and Grandpa and Grandma Purington of Rexburg Food Center for sponsoring me to cover what costs the corn may not have covered.  I also have to thank Barbie and her children for being my family when I had none during this lonely time of pursuing a goal that those who should have been closest to me did not support in, including my mother.

 

After I served my mission, I went to visit my sister and her children and discovered that I wanted to stay and go to college there, so I found a job and attended George Roger Clark College where I majored in Business Administration/Accounting.  Meanwhile, my sister, her new openly gay husband for a while, and her children returned to California.  Sadly, after completing one semester short of my Bachelor of Arts degree, my best friend and stepmother passed away.  Never did I grieve the death of anyone to this very day than I did her death.  My sister-in-law and siblings told me to come back to California right away and help my father because he was withering away due to the death of my stepmother, which really was not true, as I mentioned earlier.  They promised that after the death of my father, they would send me back to finish school, but marriage and a decade plus later, that promise never manifested.

 

While home, my father seemed to be doing quite well.  I on the other hand was confused between my psych major at Ricks and my business major at George Roger Clark, so I created my major in Industrial Psychology at Pasadena City College which I never completed either.  Due to the way in which I used my education, I never really needed to return to school to pursue my Business Adminstration/Accounting degree, but if I can ever regain my ability to remember and learn things again I would very much love to finish that semester somehow and get that Bachelor of Arts Degree and then pursue an Associates Degree in Cognitive Behavior.  I would also like to do a study of on the nine dimensions, the stargate in particular.  The nine dimensions are length X width X depth X time X the radius of time X the stargate X conscious cognition X subconscious cognition X unconscious cognition.  With these dimension, we can prove that the shortest distance between two points is not a straight line afterall.

 

Combining my adminstrative experience and educational background as well as life's experience, I was led by the Voice to create this document now known as "An Economic Proposal: Fact Becoming Reality," which I can now send you in PDF format by ordering through my home page by clicking my picture.  Due to my experiences that evolved, as mentioned in my book that I mentioned above, I have become quite clear on my goals and objectives in life and seek to share these goals and objectives and invite you to share in my goals and objectives as well.  Meanwhile, I believe that I will always live with the unquenchable bitterness from the injustices and apathy my wife and I have faced in times of our worst oppression and which bitterness shall always reaffirm my goals and objectives as mentioned herein and in my book.

 

May the warmest wishes, love, and protection of Providence continually possess.

 

Nolan A. Kingston (Xalil 'Abdullah)