‘You don’t know how much I hate you’: The real-life story of how a man’s career ended

An American dream.

A dream gone bad.

The ending of a dream.

This is the story of what happened when a young man from Brooklyn, New York, tried to become an engineer.

In the summer of 2006, just months after graduating from the University of New York at Stony Brook, Javi Barragán decided to try his hand at engineering.

The plan was simple: he would start building homes and apartments in his native Brooklyn.

But then he went back to work for the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, where he helped the department evaluate and approve new rental housing projects.

He found work at a local auto parts store, and eventually became an engineer in the Department of Buildings.

“My boss was like, ‘Well, you’re doing really well,'” Barragancos son, Miguel, tells Newsweek.

He worked his way up from there, and by the time Barraganch was hired by the Department in 2010, he had spent three years in a team that designed the first affordable apartment in New York City.

And it all came to an abrupt end, when the Department announced that the agency needed to find more affordable housing.

“I’m like, Oh my God,” Barraganz said, laughing.

“It was just the last straw.

I had no idea.”

The Department of Building and Safety (BBS) made the decision in a memo to Barragan, who was then under contract.

Barragann and his team were told that their job was to develop housing for low-income families who needed a place to live.

But the housing was not affordable, and it would cost a hefty amount of money.

It was a shocking announcement, even for someone with a promising career in construction.

Barring the federal government, the BBS had no recourse to the Department.

Baragán and his colleagues filed a lawsuit, alleging that the BTS had violated their contracts by withholding the necessary information.

The BTS countered that Barraganes contract was not terminated, but it would be reassigned to a different contractor.

Barrageans lawyers countered that the decision was a legally binding one and that they would take the case to court.

Barracans suit was dismissed, and the BCS agreed to pay Barragans the $2.4 million it had previously agreed to cover the contract costs.

Barraaga and his partners decided to take matters into their own hands.

They started a nonprofit called the Brooklyn Housing Trust, or BHT.

Their mission is to provide affordable housing to the city’s homeless population.

In their letter to Barragean, the group outlined what it calls their “zero tolerance policy,” which they describe as “a commitment to not rent or sell apartments to any individuals who have been found to be in need of assistance by the BHS.”

BHT has also been working with nonprofit organizations to provide rental housing to low- and moderate-income people.

They have a program that allows people who are unable to afford rent to rent their own home.

“The BHT will not rent to anyone who has been found homeless, regardless of their current situation,” the group says on its website.

But they will also not sell apartments, either.

BHT also has a policy of “voluntary counseling,” which allows people to go through counseling to find out if they might qualify for housing.

The group’s goal is to help people avoid homelessness and become homeowners.

The organization has partnered with organizations that work to reduce poverty, including the National Alliance to End Homelessness and the Coalition for Homeless Families.

The two groups have been working together to provide housing for people in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Woodside.

But Barragani says that’s only part of the story.

The trust has been a vital resource for people like him.

“There are some people that have no way of knowing what’s going on around them,” he says.

“That’s the biggest problem, and I’m trying to figure out how to fix it.”

Barragano says he has been through this before.

“For me, it’s not an easy time.

I lost my parents,” he tells Newsweek, adding that his father passed away when he was only 13.

“They’re not here, and we have to go to court to prove that we’re not living in a bubble.

We have to get help.

I’ve been through that before.”

But this time, Barraganyan and his group are not seeking a court order, nor are they going to wait around.

“We’re going to fight this,” he explains.

“If we lose, we’ll go to trial and get our money back.

But I feel like we have the right to fight, and that’s what we’re going after.”

Barrageancans lawyer, Daniel Pascual, says the BHT is not alone in this battle.

“BHS has the resources to get housing, and they’re fighting tooth