Brain Mush

David,

I don’t know how else to get this message across other than addressing it to you.

Do you even have any concept of how tired I am.

They have over-used my brain.  They have over-used the access to my brain.  They have over-used the blue tooth, so now my brain feels mushy all the time.

All these years – wasted.  I am so tired of watching movies all the time.  I am so tired of sitting and watching while I could have had a real life.  I could have learned another language by now, learned the piano, among the many other things I wanted to do.  Instead of spending all these years driving nowhere and getting nowhere.

There isn’t any reason why I didn’t the job as Sales Trainer at The Container Store.  There isn’t any reason why I didn’t even get an interview for management jobs and positions.  I have years and years of experience.

I shouldn’t have to be going through a bankruptcy because I should have a job that can actually pay me to stay alive.

Here is how the pattern goes:  I apply for other jobs because I don’t know how else to get the message through how unbearably miserable and grossly unhappy I am.  Then, with all the information from surveys and questions my interactions are fashioned and scripted from that information.  As if they should EVER be connected.

Do you know I have a memory of you walking out the door at The Container Store as Alfredo, you turned back to wave.  I could barely control how angry I was at you, angry for lying, angry for the deception, and angry because you truly do not care, or I wouldn’t be here like this.

Is it really someone else’s job to monitor if I’ve washed my duvet cover, or cleaned my cat box, or mopped the floor, or exercised, or showered, or bathed, or masturbated?!!  You actually pay someone to do that?!  You’re fucking joking?!  And, for how many years now?!

I removed you and James Franco and everyone else from my game for a reason.  I want to get away from you.  I want to move on from you.  How can you possibly expect me to even have feelings for you as a friend I once knew in college after you’ve deceived me for so many years?!

The only explanation I will ever believe when it comes to Edison is that you believed I needed help in dating, and thinking about other men as possibles.  When all I wanted to do was thank you for the time we spent in college.  Instead, you most severely shut the door in my face when you called me delusional.  Let alone all the times you’ve drugged me including the Harry and David wine I received for Thanksgiving.

I am sick of all the bad dreams and waking up to nightmares that are not of my own making.

Do you know I spent months writing to who I thought was Jeremy Renner.  Every one of my days off I was writing and writing and for what purpose?!  Only to find out it never went anywhere, and now you want me to write it all over again?!

You cannot model a person’s life after a Sims Game because in a Sims Game I can sell off a part of my house, or an appliance, and it doesn’t create a problem.  You cannot do that in real life.  Plus, I actually have feelings.  I cannot simply push a button commanding myself to mop the floor or take a shower WHEN I DON’T EVEN HAVE A LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

I could care less that I spoke with Brad Pitt who was disguised as Tommy at The Home Depot talking about climbing the roof.  He said, he didn’t like having to climb the ladder which I know he was referring to the time – I believe it was in Louisiana – when I was led, funneled, corralled, steered into a park with a boat ramp and a water tower, and I climbed the water tower because I could.  However, I hadn’t eaten in days, nor had I showered or slept in days since I was sleeping in my car.  The stretched-out loafers I was wearing nearly fell off my feet with every rung.  So, not only did I have to grab the ladder with my arms, but I had to grip my shoes with my toes each step.  I thought I might pass out.  I was shaking when I got down only because of the physical stress and not because I was scared.  I still don’t know why I was sent to do any of those “things.”  It was a perfectly pleasant conversation with Brad Pitt which is just as I would have directed the conversation to be.  It wasn’t like the conversation with Jonah Hill who was jumping up and down inside begging me to guess.  And, I remember Brad Pitt knocking his wedding ring on the door frame.  I know this wedding speak is just a coded word for a job.  You would not believe how excited everyone got at Disney whenever they popped in my brain.  Again, jumping up and down, saying his name over and over again.  I mean, come on.

Nor, do I care when it was James Franco who shook my hand placing his right thumb first causing me to say, I hope I didn’t break your thumb.  And, I remember coming back here to this house after that terrible trip where I didn’t get to go to ANY of the places I wanted to visit, explore, or see – lying in bed because I was in such a dark place I was trying to reconnect to my former personable self when I started daydreaming and I ran my thumb over a beautiful man’s lower lip as I went to kiss him.  Nor, do I care that I was watching Spider-Man that night doing laundry when I connected or figured it out that – that Tommy was James Franco.  I was so indignant at being lied to again.

I do not care about seeing, speaking, or conversing with any of these actors, celebrities, or famous people.  I would rather have been there when my mother died.  I would rather have been at her real funeral.  These are short sentences, but I want you to know how deeply I feel them.

I will not be able to look at you in same way again because of it.

I was kept away from my family.  I was kept away from my mother as she was dying.  I was lied to about how and when she died, and you were and are apart of it.

This is what I told my brother about the Edison experience when I discovered you used a skin suit person to simulate sex with me back in 2014, I wrote it in many different forums, and I have repeated it many, many times.  I would rather have been beaten within an inch of my life, and left on the street for dead than to ever have to go through or have that experience.  Beating me to death, I could understand.  But, placing a skin suit faux person in my bed, I will never understand.  It is a horrible, horrible crime done to me.  Then, shortly after that you deny me access to visit my mother, be with her as she is dying, and then do not allow me to go to her real funeral.  All so, what?!  Some one could fake film it.

You have become forever changed in my eyes because of Edison, and what happened with my mother.

How does this happen?  How did you allow someone complete control over my life, my job, my finances, my love life, my emails, my mail, my food, the very air I breathe – and, there is NO OVERSIGHT, they are accountable to NO ONE?!

I am tired.  I am spent.  I have more work to do than I could ever finish.

I am tired of yelling at you.

I will never stop asking for my life back.

This should never have happened.  It should never happen to any person ever again.  There should never be another real company, but fake job – just like your Facebook posting of a faux Starbucks where people lined up for coffee.

I remember you on the phone David, as I was walking by going to Starbucks to get my coffee for lunch with you yelling, I hope you find what you’re looking for.

I remember you wearing a yellow shirt as I drove by Characters In Flight.

Please let me go.  Please let me be a real person again.