2/28/2010
I am on some kind of fucking psychotropic drug now that has me full of rage. I constantly am walking around wanting to throw things, to curse, to kick. It doesn't help that I am constantly reminded that I am a slave to a 21st century Inquisition orchestrated both by religious (Roman Catholic, but with a little help from others) and government (alphabet agencies) forces. The thought and everyday reminders that those christo-fascist morons are stalking me every day of my life fills me full of impotent rage. I don’t know what is worse—being stalked by the individual sheep, the christo-morons, who are so goddamned stupid they don’t know any better, or being cyberstalked and manipulated by much more sophisticated christo-fascists, who don’t even have the excuse of being simple-minded sheeple, but rather, who, in the name of Christ, (of whom they know nothing by faith or relationship), orchestrate a never-ending range of machinations and tortures to keep me imprisoned until I conform to their immature and/or evil expectations. Since I am neither immature nor evil, I never will meet their expectations, but how long, oh God, must I suffer? Nearly every day I pray for death, because I have no desire to live as a physically, mentally, and emotionally suffering slave for those Jesuitical/Opus Dei/anti-Christ Ratzinger pigs.
However, part of me says, “who am I to complain?” The whole world is stalked and manipulated by the forces of evil. Yesterday, there was another man-made (I doubt there are any women involved) earthquake, created and triggered by one of the incredibly powerful forces of evil which plays ping pong with my life and liberty—this time terrorizing the country of Chile. I now am willing to acknowledge that the end date for our currently incarnated civilization may indeed be 2012. For if the kind of evil, imposed suffering, and psychic imprisonment (they would use the term, “edenic control”) that I endure daily is the ubiquitous future of all of humanity, then mass extinction is a mercy, and no, I will not pray for planetary deliverance.
However, part of me has to have hope, and I have to cling to that hope in order to motivate myself to get out of the deep desire to just lie down with the blinds pulled and sheets around my head, turning on the TV when I feel really motivated. For there is a future—I’m just not part of it, except what I contribute through my ideas. I have a theory that I am victimized so heavily because the goddamned, evil bastards have identified me through time travel or remote viewing technology. They figure that if they can turn me to whatever future they envision, they can ensure their success. But what they do not understand (because they have no spiritual life or relationship with God), is that no matter what I may be in an “alternative” timeline, the great gift and genius of God is that every individual has free agency in each and every instant of their life, and that as long as the orientation of the will is to holiness, to God’s will, then God can and does work through that person. This acknowledgement is important because each reality is different, is changed, and true holiness, whether that of God or human, is not static, but rather dynamic and fluid. I AM a different person from what they recognize in their illicit viewing of alternative realities, because the matrix of this reality into which I have been born, is different, just as every single incarnation of reality is. I can only guess at what has changed from alternative realities —my autism, my gender, my homosexuality, my cultural environment, my childhood satanic victimization…? I don’t know and I’m not going to waste time speculating. All that matters is that right now, in THIS life, THIS moment, my spiritual orientation remains completely fixed on God, and that the older I get, the more I hear “It doesn’t matter what you choose, I will work through you,” whenever I query the Almighty. Everything I have chosen, including my actively affirmed, embraced, and pursued (if ever I am allowed to engage in ANY relationship) lesbianism, is in complete concordance with God. All I can do, in obedience to spiritual holiness and existential authenticity, is to hold fast to God’s will and my own self-chosen identity, no matter how much of a struggle, for even if I am imprisoned in a well of “miry clay” my voice can reach out. Hopefully, it can be heard by (what I hope) the tiny, remnant of the righteous that survives the coming apocalypse.
I can tell you right now it does not include the christo-fascists, the nazis, or the dumbass sheeple who are too lazy to pursue the truth on their own, but rather swear an obedience to believe the pap and crap they are fed, whether it be religious dogma, or the insidious mendacity of the “cool” popular culture.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Weak, shakey, tired
Weak, shakey, tired after yesterday's hell. Head still hurts--not like a headache, but like something is wrong with the brain, headache though the drugs that had me walking blind and debilitated to the point of non-function is gone. Not really though, I still am having crippling migraine headache pain in flashes, jsut not sustained like yesterday. I feel limp, dragged out but I am pushing so hard to get some things done because I don't know when the severely ill train wreck will hit me again. I've GOT to try to work out today, though I feel so weak and shaky it is hard to get up and move, but it has been over two weeks since Ive worked out. Got to try. On top of everything else, whatever drugs/hormonoes I was given, caused my period to flow--first time in a year. Fortunately I kept a box of tampons, but unfortunately I am suffering from unusually strong cramping in my abdomen and lower back pain. If I had my drutheres, I'd rather be in bed with a heating pad on my abdomen, but after being laid up for the past few days, I have to force myself to move--laundry, cooking, groceries, working out, clearing email, sending off resumes to prospective employers....
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
from 3 pages
2.22.10
So, I try once more to write, struggling to find the barest minimum of privacy. I spent all day looking for a typewriter/word processor/ancient computer that would have some ability to avoid the ever present spying and harassment that is my lot. I wish I could say success, but I can’t. I spent $37.00 on a very decent Gateway, but of course, they were able to slip in a virus disk, creating the hidden non-DOS partition before I even left the store. I knew that I couldn’t hold them off for long, but at least I have disabled any ability to quickly/immediately transfer data via network modem (it was an ancient dial-up modem, but somehow they were scripting and transferring data—at least until I removed the modem card, hehe).
The inside of this 11-year-old computer was in pristine shape. The seal had never been broken until I removed the cover and I couldn’t believe the cleanliness inside—after 11 years! The inside of my computers looks like dust bunny hell after a year or two. But clean is good. Whoever was the previous owner took really good care of this computer and it shows. So it should do the job I want it to—a non-Internet word processor with a minimum of fuss. It also has a FAT partition and a windows 98 operating system, so if they try to pull what they did with my laptop—mess with the operating system boot up, I should be able to reload the operating system myself.
I hope that it doesn’t go that far, even though it was enjoyable messing with the computer earlier today—more enjoyable than the act of writing itself. If I could choose a job, I think I would really like to be a computer tech—it’s challenging but rewarding to figure out and fix the hardware and software. But of course if I were to spend thousands of dollars getting certified, I still wouldn’t be able to get a job. I’d just be further in debt than I already am, with nothing to show for it. Maybe I could protect my computer security a little better—but really, who am I kidding—I am up against and victimized by unlimited resources, genius, and top secret technology. There is no use railing against it, though. After 15 years of the hell I have endured at the hands of christo-fascists and government nazis, I just look forward to a good day.
Today was a good day. Unlike the last few days, when I was on some kind of weird psychotropic medication that had me plotting my own death and yelling at my mother, today has been fairly decent. I woke up feeling like shit, as usual, but was able to push beyond it. Now I am tired to the point of wanting to doze off, but I am trying to get into the habit of writing, after years of being stymied by the CF-GN’s. So I am utilizing a trick that I read years ago—to do some free flow writing every day. It was Julie Cameron, I think, who said a writer should always write three pages in the morning —just rambling, free flowing stuff—just to get beyond the inhibitions and blockages. After being penalized so severely for writing about my love for Augusta, I internalized the realization that the CF-GN’s really wanted to force and brutalize into me—that my free expression would be penalized, that my feelings of love would be penalized, that any aspirations or choices of self-identity that I might dare to claim or pursue would be penalized. In time I just learned to shut down and censor all expression of any meaning.
What has changed? Well, nothing really. The CF-GN’s are still making my life hell. Even today, while I was shopping for the computer, one of the christo-morons who always shadow me (to control my every move and initiative—whether regarding love, sex, money, or job), tried to tell me, “go around the corner to a shop across from Circuit City on Cutler.” I wanted to tell her, “yeah, lady, I did that years ago, and the proprietor put a partition in the computer that completely fucked it up, so that the $200 or $300 I spent on the laptop was completely WASTED, RUINED, THROWN DOWN THE TOILET,” which has been the characteristic story of the last 15 years of my life.
What can I do? I can never regain those lost years. They are lost, gone, wasted in years of suffering, pain, and controlled, drugged and very real imprisonment. I don’t know if I ever will be free to live, work and love again. But I have learned that I can impact reality despite my misery and constraints, and that is what I have to do. If nothing else, I will shout at the top of my verbal lungs, that to be human is to be FREE, and self-determining.
Even the christo-morons who stalk me have no idea how close the entire world is to complete subjugation to spiritual totalitarianism, as opposed to the political totalitarianism from which they think they are protected by American citizenship. Such naivete! Americans are just more deluded than the rest of the world. I often remember the most scathing commentary that the modern monk, Thomas Merton, had for the American populace. He wrote, “America is a big, candied baby,” and I have to concur. A less poetical, more sociological analysis would state, “Americans are full of their own self-entitlement, all races, all classes, all genders and all ages. Even me, bruised from the school of hard knocks and rejection, thought that my freedom of choice, self-determination, and self-expression were guaranteed and protected. Little did I know that for the last 60+ years, a hidden, shadow cabal of well, christo-fascists and government nazis, were operating in the shadows, gaining power and stranglehold positioning until finally the trap was ready to be sprung. And baby, springing is around the corner.
I, more than anyone else know the inflammatory nature of words like “nazi” and “fascist,” but unfortunately, these are the most accurately descriptive of words. This is no exaggeration, but only a sad recognition that the malignant cancers that so many 20th century artists, writers, politicians, and soldiers of every level spent fighting with all their passion, strength, youthful vitality, and lives, has resurfaced with renewed vigor and invigorated immunity of stealth.
So, I try once more to write, struggling to find the barest minimum of privacy. I spent all day looking for a typewriter/word processor/ancient computer that would have some ability to avoid the ever present spying and harassment that is my lot. I wish I could say success, but I can’t. I spent $37.00 on a very decent Gateway, but of course, they were able to slip in a virus disk, creating the hidden non-DOS partition before I even left the store. I knew that I couldn’t hold them off for long, but at least I have disabled any ability to quickly/immediately transfer data via network modem (it was an ancient dial-up modem, but somehow they were scripting and transferring data—at least until I removed the modem card, hehe).
The inside of this 11-year-old computer was in pristine shape. The seal had never been broken until I removed the cover and I couldn’t believe the cleanliness inside—after 11 years! The inside of my computers looks like dust bunny hell after a year or two. But clean is good. Whoever was the previous owner took really good care of this computer and it shows. So it should do the job I want it to—a non-Internet word processor with a minimum of fuss. It also has a FAT partition and a windows 98 operating system, so if they try to pull what they did with my laptop—mess with the operating system boot up, I should be able to reload the operating system myself.
I hope that it doesn’t go that far, even though it was enjoyable messing with the computer earlier today—more enjoyable than the act of writing itself. If I could choose a job, I think I would really like to be a computer tech—it’s challenging but rewarding to figure out and fix the hardware and software. But of course if I were to spend thousands of dollars getting certified, I still wouldn’t be able to get a job. I’d just be further in debt than I already am, with nothing to show for it. Maybe I could protect my computer security a little better—but really, who am I kidding—I am up against and victimized by unlimited resources, genius, and top secret technology. There is no use railing against it, though. After 15 years of the hell I have endured at the hands of christo-fascists and government nazis, I just look forward to a good day.
Today was a good day. Unlike the last few days, when I was on some kind of weird psychotropic medication that had me plotting my own death and yelling at my mother, today has been fairly decent. I woke up feeling like shit, as usual, but was able to push beyond it. Now I am tired to the point of wanting to doze off, but I am trying to get into the habit of writing, after years of being stymied by the CF-GN’s. So I am utilizing a trick that I read years ago—to do some free flow writing every day. It was Julie Cameron, I think, who said a writer should always write three pages in the morning —just rambling, free flowing stuff—just to get beyond the inhibitions and blockages. After being penalized so severely for writing about my love for Augusta, I internalized the realization that the CF-GN’s really wanted to force and brutalize into me—that my free expression would be penalized, that my feelings of love would be penalized, that any aspirations or choices of self-identity that I might dare to claim or pursue would be penalized. In time I just learned to shut down and censor all expression of any meaning.
What has changed? Well, nothing really. The CF-GN’s are still making my life hell. Even today, while I was shopping for the computer, one of the christo-morons who always shadow me (to control my every move and initiative—whether regarding love, sex, money, or job), tried to tell me, “go around the corner to a shop across from Circuit City on Cutler.” I wanted to tell her, “yeah, lady, I did that years ago, and the proprietor put a partition in the computer that completely fucked it up, so that the $200 or $300 I spent on the laptop was completely WASTED, RUINED, THROWN DOWN THE TOILET,” which has been the characteristic story of the last 15 years of my life.
What can I do? I can never regain those lost years. They are lost, gone, wasted in years of suffering, pain, and controlled, drugged and very real imprisonment. I don’t know if I ever will be free to live, work and love again. But I have learned that I can impact reality despite my misery and constraints, and that is what I have to do. If nothing else, I will shout at the top of my verbal lungs, that to be human is to be FREE, and self-determining.
Even the christo-morons who stalk me have no idea how close the entire world is to complete subjugation to spiritual totalitarianism, as opposed to the political totalitarianism from which they think they are protected by American citizenship. Such naivete! Americans are just more deluded than the rest of the world. I often remember the most scathing commentary that the modern monk, Thomas Merton, had for the American populace. He wrote, “America is a big, candied baby,” and I have to concur. A less poetical, more sociological analysis would state, “Americans are full of their own self-entitlement, all races, all classes, all genders and all ages. Even me, bruised from the school of hard knocks and rejection, thought that my freedom of choice, self-determination, and self-expression were guaranteed and protected. Little did I know that for the last 60+ years, a hidden, shadow cabal of well, christo-fascists and government nazis, were operating in the shadows, gaining power and stranglehold positioning until finally the trap was ready to be sprung. And baby, springing is around the corner.
I, more than anyone else know the inflammatory nature of words like “nazi” and “fascist,” but unfortunately, these are the most accurately descriptive of words. This is no exaggeration, but only a sad recognition that the malignant cancers that so many 20th century artists, writers, politicians, and soldiers of every level spent fighting with all their passion, strength, youthful vitality, and lives, has resurfaced with renewed vigor and invigorated immunity of stealth.
So very fucked up
So very fucked up---not able to open eyes or hold head up. way too much csf in brain. can feel pressure, the brain strangulation that i recognize from before. forced myself to drive one mile to library, cant keep eyes open. cant take in stimuli.. wantdd to do laundry go to grocery store butt know i cant do that because im too fucked up to drive. wanted yesterday to work out.l havent worked out in over two weeks bu cant work out. too sick. in the meantime i get fatter and fatter. can see it and feel it in belly and legs . belly has some kind of weird shooting pains. i cant see straight. my right eye is so dark that i know optic nerve cant sustain this kind of pressure. way too dark with large pieces of field missing. cant even see keybord correctly. fortunately i type by touch.
but as fucked up as i am i had to force self to get up and drive the mile to library. mind wont stop. spirit wont die, until all senses in body die. have to fight the goddamned occultic fuckers responsible for my torture. i m too sick to write sustained but mind is firing. but because the goddamned pieces of shit r able to hack into my comupter into pretty much real time, i have to post from my gateway wprd processor. have to put out the knowledge. cant let the goddamned gnostics ("knowledge as power wielded over others"--the very definition of occultists, as opposed to legitimate and CREATIVELY spiritual religions have the upperhand. So i will post from floppy disk, "3pages"now and explain letter. now mind is too fucked up to think logically.
but as fucked up as i am i had to force self to get up and drive the mile to library. mind wont stop. spirit wont die, until all senses in body die. have to fight the goddamned occultic fuckers responsible for my torture. i m too sick to write sustained but mind is firing. but because the goddamned pieces of shit r able to hack into my comupter into pretty much real time, i have to post from my gateway wprd processor. have to put out the knowledge. cant let the goddamned gnostics ("knowledge as power wielded over others"--the very definition of occultists, as opposed to legitimate and CREATIVELY spiritual religions have the upperhand. So i will post from floppy disk, "3pages"now and explain letter. now mind is too fucked up to think logically.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Hey WLR
Hey WLR--you ready for your daily dose of spiritual and mental porn motherfucker? Managed to put your fucking virus/hidden partition into the word processor I bought. Well, you are going to have to go to the house to physically download it, but for now goddamned piece of shit porn freak, read this. You so eager to get into my brain--its not enough to destroy it, you gota watch annd analyze me like a fucking rat in a cage, which is what I am A FUCKING RAT IN A GODDAMNED EVIL EXPERIMENT. So get this--subject is not very happy after a night of psychotronic warfare that made it impossible for me to sleep until 5:30 in the morning. You think that I am an unhappy, hysterical, mentally ill customer of your purveyed mental shit. Why don't you ask my neighbor, who by gauging the hard rock he was listening to at three in the morning, is suffering the byproducts of the psychotronic EMF/ELF as well. Ask him what it does to his mental well-being to get about 15% of what I am getting. Oh, but it is all my fault, isn't it motherfuckers? I am "mentally ill," aren't I motherfuckers. "I am anti-social" arent I motherfuckers? "I am uncooperative, sociall defiant, and homosexually deviant", a ren't I? What other kind of psychobabble can you push to justify your toreture of me, while you enjoy and smack your lips over the constant video, audio and computer survellance of me for your own reality peep show. I am running out of physical ability to type. Goddamned pieces of shit threw the switch and now their goddamned implants are turning my body to jelly. Had a hard time parking, steering wheel was as stubborn as an ancient or economy car sans power steering. Tried to shake to get the shit out of my body and brain but the goddamned motherfuckers just turned up the volume. FUCK YOU PIGS! FUCK YOUR AGENDA! Have you had enough WLR? Go get some more. I jsut gotta get thru this fucking day, realizing as i always do the abysmall quaklity of my life, and the deteriorating condition of my body which is more like a 70 years old than a middle aged woman. No need for tears tita, your life will never belong to you again. you are a slave of the goddamned christo fascists and government nazis and you will never be free, so just learn to live each day ghating life and reality and the pieces of shit who would make everyuones life as hateful and not worth living as your own.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
No longer know what is the matter with me
No longer know what is the matter with me--severe mood swings with suicidal ideation, belly pains (even on am empty stomach), bloated, crampy and gassy. It hurts to eat. It even hurts to drink water even though I am constantly dehydrated. More than anything else, I just long to be free of these neverending psyhotronic drugs and misery.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
From bad to worse
From bad to worse as I have lost two days of my life to pain and downloaded psychotronic drugs. I don't even know how I finally got up and was able to drive to the library, but at least the mind is a little clearer after two days. I stepped out on my front porch and saw a couple walking by, and just was stunned to remember/realize that there are people in the world who have a life, who have partners, who are physically able to walk down a street--not cooped up in a psychic/physical hell of pain and suffering that leaves one totally debilitated and nonfunctioning. I long to live life again. To be free of these goddamnedd neverending drugs. To be able to walk, skip, and sing (it has been two weeks since I was able even to go to thye gym and work out). To have a lover to share my life and thoughts, inspire me, and take care of me when I am so goddamned sick (as in yesterdat) that I am unable to get up and move. My face was so bloated yesterday i didnt recognize it. I think i had/have the mumphs as I could feel my lymph nodes swollen, hard and knotted, like a thich rope or cable. Even the back of my neck was swollen. Everything hurt. Luckily, I guess I could sleep. slept all day yesterday, night and most of todya. what a waste of my life. God help me persevere.
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