This duplicitousness nature and maliciousness being spread around I will not tolerate.
A duplicitousness being used within the American government that I simply will not allow. Be wary of such inappropriate uses of misleading.
The American government, the American people deserve greater respect than I am seeing these days. They deserve greater respect than I am reading as well.
Be careful with code.
I caution you to not take it so seriously.
You can take any sentence rearrange the words and letters and turn it into another sentence or wording.
However, if persons and parties do not agree on the meaning, then it is meaningless.
Without meaning, it is nothing more than Scrabble.
Before you see otherwise, let me tell you I was once told by someone that a woman changing her hair was a way to get over a man. It felt like a pointed comment to me. Within myself, I stepped back. It was and is untrue. I have often changed my hair and hair color. Partly due to boredom, partly because I believe I am greater than my hair color or style and it does not define my character, abilities, worth, skill, or attractiveness.
I miss you.
For clarification: I am uncertain if this really is misunderstood or just a storyline being asked of me to write about because it is plainly obvious to me that both Elisa and Zelda are the same person.
Ask my garage.
Technically, they are the same person at different times in my life.
You Better Fucking Believe It, Man.
Still Here.
I was about to write a bunch of things yesterday, however there was a warning in the back of my mind again.
Here we go again. The routine that makes me exactly what I am trying to avoid.
My guess is there was someone in the room who did not want to be evicted and vacated from the premises.
They need to leave.
It is MIB not WIB. As in op, as in understanding not a color.
Be careful because they had no idea what they were doing before. Jesus Christ, I needed help from my own employer.
This brain, my brain, head-room is not the same as any other working condition. It is very specific. Capiche?
So, how many more years must I prove that I once loved a man?!
At the exclusion of all other available men?
For how many more years?
He did not frighten me, this man I saw today, nor did he want to – it is an understanding that I do not need to discuss other than that.
Also, my house is not in order. I cannot function without order and organization. This is also understood that is used to put me down, keep me from functioning well, and bullying me into shame, humiliation, and tears.
FBEM, you better be about.
Post Traumatic Stress.
Too much, too soon.
Oh right (just an expression), I forgot. I’m not allowed to have feelings and emotions.
Whoever it was near me while I was writing yesterday, I was resisting them because they were wrong.
I am overwhelmed.
Problem. Problems. Problems.
None of it makes sense to me. You are wrong.
Overwhelmed.
Greatly unhappy.
Sick to death of celebrities treating me with cruelty.
I want to live on my own.
I want a life of my own.
I miss food writing.
I miss creative thinking.
I miss being allowed the freedom of choice.
Overwhelmed.
Upon my usual approach – mind you, I would have been on time, but the train held me up – I was stopped – this is how it works for me, an unseen, a feeling, an instinct, a pull, gravity, all of these it is not one specific every time – by a man at a table.
Let me paint this, so you can see too. I see guns, I see military training, I see heavy concern. It is as if he is wearing another layer of clothing over him weighing his shoulders down. His whole being says worry, concern. As if he just stepped out of a meeting where national security on a personal level was being threatened.
This is just a glance.
As I continue, I see another man, similar in job and training to the man at the table. Yet, well below his pay-grade. He places a water bottle – the connection being my favorite brown-eyed man who helped my mind heal and rest one morning – by his ear. This man was wearing an orange-ish t-shirt.
While in the restroom I changed placement of my water bottle because I heard the White House guard days previously, and I saw his ear spliced together in something I was looking at.
Because I have become concerned, worried about my safety, and worried about the level of publicity my blog receives.
There was a lot of code last night. It was like an automated computer, or program feeding ideas into my head.
I stopped.
It was too much.
I wanted to sit and watch the scenery.
Brain-tired.
I will never understand the code for shopping. Only buy this coffee, only buy this soap, only buy this t-shirt, only buy this and that.
It’s unnatural.
You would go crazy too if you were only allowed to walk a certain path, I can’t even think of all the ways they kill my creative thought process with what has taken place since 2012.
All I wanted to do was write when I moved here. I have never been allowed to do that.
I saw Jeremy Renner on a motorcycle last night.
I saw James Franco last night, so I was made immediately unhappy.
Truth be told all these years of surveillance have squelched any desire I once had for acting.
Puzzle Pieces:
They want to know why I watched Don’t Mess With The Zohan. This is a father memory or connection. My father told me he thought I should be a hair dresser. Not President, or an executive, or a powerful woman capable of greatness. He thought I should be a hair dresser. There is nothing wrong with being a hair dresser. It is the fact that I saw him as he saw me in that moment. Menial. It is heart-breaking to see your own father not believing in you.
One of the greatest presents my father ever gave me was a necklace with my name misspelled in Hebrew. He replaced it with another necklace spelled correctly. I have since had to pawn these items just as I had to pawn items when I was living with a man. So, that I can be used as a documentary subject rather than being able to live my life.
The present was not my father’s idea, he had help.
Going back on a diet since it appears that I wrote about weight-loss, so now I have to prove I can lose weight again. I’ve been buying diet pills, fat-burners, and laxatives to combat the weight problems being delivered and altered after the fact.
This has not been enough to correct the weight problems I have for no reason.
I am overwhelmed already, and it is only Sunday.
Where is my worker’s compensation?
Where is my paid leave?
Where is my help getting my brain back healthy?
I went to a roller derby – unlike any roller derby I’ve ever seen before – where I was being talked to through another person. I was sitting next to Stephanie Cruz because there was something odd about Kat that night. He said through Kat, I looked nice. That he liked women dressed casually as I was. Wearing my favorite ball cap (Disney) because it fits my head the best, my Portland t-shirt (because its vintage) and jeans.
This is also the roller derby where David Esposito was disguised or dressed as a woman. Does David Esposito = ed? Education? Because David Esposito at The Container Store seemed lazy to me. I was trying to get promoted so I could afford to live on my own, the way I want to live.
As a birthday gift I gave David Esposito organic chocolate stout by Samuel Smith. Because it had exceptional flavor.
I hear this in my head every day. I messed up. I = I, messed = me, ss could be secret service or stazi ss or something else, ed as in education, up = PU, as in stinky.
I believe people think there was a connection made to me viewing Star Wars and my favorite brown-eyed man. It is not in my mind. Because that man was similar but not the same.
Heavy head and doubts fill me.
Great unhappiness is my life.
Barely functioning.
Barely able to get out of bed for more than a few hours at a time.
My pupils are still dilated and fixed.
What have they done in my head?
Is it the food? Have they drugged me? Is it the soap or detergent? Is it in the air-filter? Have they done something to my carpeting?
Where is the cause coming from?
Or, is it just the events of 4/24/2018 that I am still recovering from?
To be clear, it was the event of lighting burning my back and neck that sent my car in reverse. To not go back to damage done. Yet, no matter what I do they are building with balsa wood all around me. So, if after 1,000,000 steps, turns and directions if I did not turn a knob to the left it all comes crashing down. And, I am supposed to understand and figure out why. When my mind is light years away staring at the con in the corner trying to figure out how much time he’s done, will he do it again, and why he is at my gas station.
I will never understand the food, coffee, soap, clothing, and fashion code. These things are redundant and meaningless.
Only wear a certain color on a certain day, only display a certain message here or there. These things mean nothing. They are baseless in value. They lack in all ways emotional depth.
Lying in bed I am trying to understand the damage done to my head, so I can return. Exercise again. Be healthy again. Be productive again.
Blunt force trauma on the side of my head is the best way I can paint that damage.
I see pictures on top of pictures. Displays one over another. Glued or welded together unable to separate. Slammed into my head with such effort it has reduced most of my other brain matter to a gelatinous mess.
There were several people in my head-room on 4/24/2018.
The damage was the effort of more than one man.
I am trying to understand how it is possible that Sims4 and Virtual Reality were able to take over every facet, area, situation, and direction of my life?
Especially now, having proven that my mind is greater than any program always has been, always will be.
I believe the world is confusing a Hollywood director with me as a twin for POTUS.
This is untrue in every and all ways.
I have a voice and a mind. Thoughts that create pictures, and I see great things. And, some not so great. Frightening truth be told.
I do not need a mouthpiece.
I do not need a man to stand in front of me to speak my words.
I am no one’s puppet on a string.
So, get it straight, yet again.
Miss writing in food.
I miss desire.
Must lay my head down.
What have they done to my head?
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 