Author: You didn’t pull! You don’t understand! You do not own my accounts! Perceived control!

Boom, boom, boom, my head tonight.  Boom, boom, boom, boom.  Boom, boom, boom.  I want to unscrew it and release some pressure.  Boom, boom, boom.  Feverish.  And, dread as I start toward that building.  It fills me with dread.

It is startling to me that what seems obvious is not clearly understood by all parties and persons.  If it is they are allowing misconceptions to continue when they know it is not the truth.

Upstairs Downstairs heathered green door versus orangish copycat.  Also, in that kitchen the view is of the water rather than the traffic.  There isn’t any reason it shouldn’t have been Upstairs Downstairs.  There isn’t any reason I shouldn’t have my Thursday and Tuesday.  I felt like it was a plot to destroy my affection for Thursday to get rid of him.  It was either both or none.  They and I should never have been placed in such a way.

Is this true?  Was it at Rio Bravo?  I think it is called Tres Amigos now.  My brother and I had been looking at new townhomes, places to stay pending the sale of our home when we stopped for dinner.  We had looked at a unit in Phase 1 here that had water damage on the roof very similar to water damage I had in my room in PC.  It was a better unit than this, more spacious, an actual laundry room and not a laundry closet.  There was no electricity on in the unit.

When Creggan and I stopped for dinner, Rachel phoned that she would meet us there too.  She showed up after we had eaten with ice cream from Cold Stone creamery.  I remember excusing her odd behavior.

I’ve been wondering if my brother really had a choice to teach between University of Alabama and San Diego State.  He should have gone to California.  He would still be teaching.  This is a puzzle piece too, graduation is about my brother’s graduation from USF.  A friend my brother had at USF.  It has nothing to do with me graduating from an affair or dating experience.

My brother doesn’t like every person.  My brother has a slow-thought process in comparison to me.  As soon as my brother moved back home he took off for hours and hours.  This was Christmas Eve or nearabout.  Hours he was gone.  It was unusual.  When I asked him about the time when he got home, his response was odd.  I had to let it go because I needed his help.  I let a lot go because I needed help.

So, our neighbor Rob did a lot of talking.  I always felt he was a go-between.  Especially when he told me I was getting skinny – early 2012.

At the restaurant my brother kept asking me questions where I couldn’t hear him.  It was maddening.  But, I needed his help, so I didn’t get upset or yell or anything, I let it go.

I believe this is where I was assessed.

I remember trying to imagine my life in that unit with the electricity turned off.  As I tried in all the places we viewed.  I didn’t want the upkeep anymore of the half an acre we had in PC, yet when I looked at all these places great dissatisfaction took to my mind.  None of them had any outdoor living.  None.  This balcony here is not outdoor living.  There is no place to grow a single plant or anything, or sit.

I told myself I would be so busy with my new life I wouldn’t miss it.  But, that is neither true nor the case.

Crying at work tonight because there isn’t any reason I couldn’t have met a real man once I moved here.  Every man I’ve met has been married or gay.  Every man.  It pushed me into dating and sleeping with a man I didn’t want to.  But, there isn’t any reason I haven’t been able to meet a real man of my standards in all these years.

Before I forget, this storyline of a black woman and a Latina are both versions of me.  They are the same.  There is no choosing.

I miss my mother.  Remembering how problems started at her nursing home I had to let go of because I couldn’t get upset over what I couldn’t control or take care of anymore.  I am ashamed of people who have used her.

BTW, the lavender eyes in Sims4 only looks like “Erin” because of a survey question I answered and none other.  Don’t get it wrong.

Showing off a little with some hair dye.  I saw all I need to see.  He’s good.  Yeah, he looks innocent, however I saw him with a gun very well and lethal so…A long-term goal you have planned for him.  This man doesn’t work for Amazon or he would look like me – homeless.

The other good looking one – a photo, is it also a few years old?  I see a wealthy family.  I see trouble.  Or am I wrong?

Does everyone know all the full details wanting to see if I guess correctly?

If it was me I wouldn’t be sharing everything I write with the world.

Yeah, yeah, I am working on starting an outline for the WTC.  It’s a big story for me, so it will take some time.  And, my head is boom, boom, boom.

Who is it that benefits from the stories here and the stories there?

Why is it…I feel I am being patronized, placated, and flattered for no reason.  I said so while working tonight.  Because it seems obvious to me, so why flatter me to burn my face off and add bulk to my laundry soap, etc. etc.

I don’t know why we were going so far back to my Dillard’s manager 1992 or 1993?  God, he was good-looking.  6’3” blonde hair, green eyes, he had been a quarterback in high school if not college.  He had jock all over him.  Fairly to-do family which is how he got the job because as it turns out he spoke to me when he first started working it was only a few sentences if that when I understood he was homophobic, racist, and not that bright.  Yuck!  Not attractive anymore.  Am I dumb?!  Couldn’t I just overlook those…well, what I saw in him.  Nope.  I wonder if I would be happier than I am now if I did and could.  So disappointing.  Unfortunately, I was right it was true.  Lacking in character, and on and on.  Looks, but no substance.  Boring.  Pass.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tell me you’ll take me on that trip, that one we’ve talked about to Thailand, Vietnam, or Asia – anywhere.  Somewhere where we’ll go walking one night or is it late afternoon that happens into night eating meat off of the same stick, stopping for a sticky sweet, walking, then another morsel or two.  Where it is just you and I, you forget just for a few hours with me, and the world is a different place because we are in it together.

Tell me you’ll find and hire that pet sitter that will take care of my fuzzy babies, so I don’t have to worry all the time.  You’ll place them in front of the camera to make sure they are who they say they are.

Tell me you’ll buy me those silk short pajama’s you want to see my skin in.  Walking around a hotel room with you.  Where the problems of the world fade away for just a few moments.

Tell me you’ll do it if only in my head.

___________________________________________________________________________________

To clarify – baby is not an actual baby, or pregnancy, or any such notion that has been played.  Baby.  Is adoption.  I am not the baby.  Because he messed up.  I can almost see him.  Surprised.  Allowing softness to seep in, allowing for the possibility of something other than what has been his life.  A future long and full.  He messed up.  Premature.  He couldn’t go back.  But, there could be the possibility of adopting a baby.  That is not the same as carry a child to term which is no longer possible.

46 years old and the idea of adopting a baby…

Still no food writing.  Soup is about all I want and can manage.  Maybe some sourdough or rye Melba toast.  Perhaps some crackers.  That’s pretty bad.

Do you know they went out of their way to break my water and ice, A/C, electrical outlet, dryer, and so on because I was about to go through bankruptcy, and they wanted to immediately place me in debt to this house?  To be in debt again.  To this house. Not for something I want.  But, to this house.

How I would love to go back to Asheville, NC for a week.  Spending time in that great small town of Asheville.  Going through the Biltmore again.  However, I will not set off again with less than $100 for gas, food, and lodgings as I have been made to do in these last few years.

I know now that I was being listened to when I spoke of Anderson Cooper and him talking about the death of his father.  How money became the number one conversation topic.  My heart went out to him when I heard him because I saw him as a child and as an adult.  Now, get over yourselves I don’t care never have it is not the same thing as sleeping with a man.  I saw him.

Yeah, I know.  La Haine is the reason for the French President’s visit to the White House.  La Haine is a great film which is why I watched it in my home.  I am way ahead of you.

You know, there is no way that I should have been given a citation for the first accident since I was in the correct lane.  He hit me.  He swerved to me.

Looking back in my mind my memories MUST have been altered, tampered and messed with.  Because they do not match.

Upon impact I was in the correct lane.  I was not in his lane.  He hit me in my lane.  If he hadn’t swerved into me, he would have hit me – if at all – at the rear.  Then, I open my eyes, my car had to have spun around because I did not move my car, I couldn’t it was totaled, I am out of traffic, on the shoulder.  His car had no damage whatsoever.  How is it possible?

It is not just upsetting to be in an accident, I was unemployed at the time.  Now, I am in debt when I was clear of car payments on the Corolla.  I thought it was David Wolfe who sold me the car insurance on my Honda.  He is a better actor than I thought.  I said at a Christmas dinner, the man who sold me the insurance would have been a better match for Creggan than Roy.  I never liked Roy.  It had/has nothing to do with the color.  He has never been genuine, so how could I want that for my brother.

Problem came into my mind a few days ago.  I feel as though about a year and a half ago, I was given – during sleep – a mind trick about my teeth.  There is a panic, a distrust, a worry, concern, I don’t know an exact word other than a heavy burden of not wanting to take care, clean and brush, and floss my teeth.  Also, it goes along with personal hygiene, exercise, and a proper diet.  So, someone around a year and half, or a little more ago someone did a terrible, terrible not just in my head, but also in managing and handling me.  I can’t quite see it in my head.  I feel it about in there.  It is pretty pervasive.  Hard enough I am not given proper soap, a constant soggy crotch still, then I have this like a mist in my head damaging circuitry I had worked so hard to place i.e. diet and exercise.

I am struggling still six years later to survive.  Not just to live, but to survive.  There isn’t any reason I shouldn’t be employed with greater pay.

This is a jumbling of so many conversations.  By the way, please stop flattering me with men like that.  I know what I look like anymore.  I used to be pretty without trying.  Remember a few years ago when I turned the television on standing in my kitchen in a negligée sans makeup hadn’t brushed my hair yet, and I was pretty enough to be on television.  However, NOW I am not allowed and able to be properly clean.  In part because I am now longer able to make my own decisions.  Choose whatever products without any ad placements on any such nonsense.

The first car trip to the west coast should never have taken place as such.  The manipulation during my sleep sent me driving to the west coast without all my money, passport, or my cats.  I believed I would have been able to drive back and get them after I had found a new place to live and stay.  But, that was never going to be possible.  So, why bother?  Just to get footage from my vehicle of me driving?  I have all the camera’s covered because I am not able to do things like stop for a coffee, or drink water, chew gum, or eat anything in my car.

So, the Bluetooth, surveillance, my previous computer, and so on all knew I wanted to go to Vancouver again.  I made sure my passport was current.  I had Canadian money.

You stole my life from me by not allowing me to be able to make decisions on my own any more.

Nothing I wanted to do, I have been able to do.

On the car ride to the west coast was when this all started that I was no longer able to pay outside as I have always done before.  I had to pay inside.  It has caused me great unhappiness to say the least.  It is not natural to me – is one way to put it.  For so many reasons I prefer not to pay inside.

Also, I had a conversation with Joe at The Container Store about my family history as it was told to me by my mother.  I guess I find it hard to believe, yet I have no reason to doubt it.  I don’t believe my mother would make up a story.  According to my mother my great-grandmother is from the House of Orange.  If not full lineage, she is related to the House of Orange yet married a commoner because she loved him.

There were a lot of family conversations about heritage and my family tree.  I remember in Carmangay with my mother at Pete and Connie’s home they were discussing the family lineage.  At the time it was difficult upon hearing the names of people to place them, so I could order and organize them in my head.  As I am a visual learner.  It goes with the dyslexia.  I have worked very hard to over-compensate for my auditory-dyslexia.  It has been taken advantage of greatly in being able to move me about rather than listen to my logic.

So, I have a soggy crotch again because I parked next to a tree?!  Are you fucking kidding me?!  What gives anyone the right to do that?!  That doesn’t make any sense to me.  Here’s why, I protect myself by not stepping over the black outline stop.  I protect myself over and over by not doing things.

You find ways to invade my house and make up excuses for your behavior.

At this point you can forget me writing about Barak Obama and Donald Trump.  Along with a few other pieces.

I want another job.

I am no longer changing the tape machines.  Forget it.  Stop wasting my time.

I want another job.

I want another job.

Sweating to death for no reason this is going to be another week of the same.

I want another job.

I want another job.

No more writing about food.

I want another job.

I do not want to be FORCED to be around David Wolfe and family anymore!!!

I want a life of my own without ANY OF THEM!

My anger, frustration, disappointment, outrage, and hurt goes beyond just the Wolfe family.  I’ve had it with all persons I’ve seen in these last six years!

I want another job!

He is very far away from me.  There is a sadness there, I question.  It feels like it is not enough for him.

I question his approach to me, I believe, I feel, he should have done differently.  He’s chosen to step back, and coordinate as if I am a member of his team.  Talking at me, telling other’s to handle me as if I am a member of his team.  When he has felt and seen me differently.  So, I question why it is not possible to treat me more like a person with special knowledge and access and less like a person needing to finish tasks, chores, or a list of assignments.

He has grown greatly dissatisfied with the arrangement recently.

He is slightly frightened of me – this is a good thing.

Doubts circle his head.  Does he receive flak because of me.  Because I am only a civilian who comes from nothing?  Yes.

Astonished to find out he wanted me to visualize myself in dresses like those not off a sale rack, at a function where money was so abundant.

Outside a small town in Texas – oh, there are a lot of problems in my head going back to the first drive – I parked at a nursing home.  Why, I don’t know.  I was told to.  Walked around the landscape, through a neighborhood, there was a big cross, a school, more neighborhood, I got back to my car as the sun had just gone down.  The lights of the town below in front of me were twinkling in the dim light.  It was a beautiful picture.

Jerry Jones.  There is an unspoken connection.  He does and gives a lot away for those persons not seen.  A lot.  He feels it is never enough.  He’s probably right.  However, he gives to them.

While at Hilton, a trainer complimented me on my outfit.  I remember because as I can describe it now, it was not a compliment from her.  I was wearing denim overalls with a light sage green cardigan.  I had a scarf around my neck.  Make-up and hair neatly done.  I probably had my Sak’s Fifth Avenue loafers on, the shoes I don’t see.  See, I may have been overweight, yet in my head – I was not.  So, I didn’t read as a heavy woman.

My brain is too tired.  Synapses dulled, hurting, greatly unhappy.

You should know I am a little upset with you.  You are selfish with my time.  Greedy.  Am I disagreeing with you or someone else?

He wanted me to visualize me at a fancy function, in a gown.  It is not just because I wrote about it.  Then, what I get is bowling ball food, food and drink keeping my head unworkable and in bed.  Indigestion.  Bloating and pain.  Body unclean.  Leaving me un-wanting to brain-speak.

Yeah, you have approached me incorrectly.  Because you are dishonest in your feelings.

Lying down again.  Wash cloth on my head.

My face is on fire.

My hands are cold and I am feverish.

I often times feel like an anvil is placed on my head.

Would you like to wash every article of clothing you own every week?  I mean every hat, sock, glove, scarf, blouse, slip, and item you own?!  I am worn down from it.

Could you buy new body wash, soap, and detergent every few days?

Could you replace all grocery items, sundry items, and spices every few days?

It is too much.

They are killing me.

Not to mention recovering from the events of 4/24/2018.

The organization is gross?  Organizing For America did a bad thing?  I already know.

Go back to one?  Sit on the family tire?  I stopped doing this because of the welcome mat they wrongfully made into something else.

Tits and Ass, really?!  I would almost believe it was one man, and one man who was smitten with me.

No one asked if I am smitten with him.

Al can Tara?  Interesting.

There is a push to go see another movie, yet I am unwilling to hurt myself.

I can barely get out of bed because of 4/24/2018 and the food.

Healing doesn’t happen on a time-line.

You will have to wait.

You will have to deal with what you did.

That means wait and see.

It is hardly news that I am not doing well which also means I can barely keep up with my every day life too.

Broke and poor and you expect me to run an agency, defeat terrorists, and bring down bad people with my mind.  Who are you fucking kidding?!

Let’s get this straight too, this is my brain and my mind first.  I am not sharing half of my brain.  Orange and Green.  My head.  My brain.

Back to bed.  Covers over my head.  Cold wash cloth on my face and head.

Thanks, Cherith.

I have told this idea, ideal, and picture I place in my mind to more people in person and in my head than I can count.

The Well of Truth is something I place in my mind’s eye.  It lies deep in my gut.  We all have one.  I just created a picture for it.  It is a measure of truth.

When something is soundly true.  So real and truthful I place it there to measure it against my knowledge, mind, heart, intellect, instinct, and gauge its validity to and for me.

The Well of Truth is a deep cavern of water surrounded by massive boulders deep within the Earth with just a small amount of light shining though on the right from above illuminating the water.

When someone tells a story, says something, lies, creates laws, speeches, artwork, or just the person themselves, I go to my Well of Truth place the words or the person there – in the water.  If it is real, the more truthful it is the more still, extreme calm and zero disturbance there is in the water.

The Bluetooth knows this picture.  The fire alarms from the sleep-talking-brain “therapy” they did to me here knows this picture.

Everyone does this.  Most people probably don’t visualize it.  I am very mindful.

Now everyone knows the source for the importance of water for me.

It is more than my name.

Just to clear away any copy cat notion that the belt used to track Jon Hamm’s character in the movie Beirut is not an exact match in my life.

We are talking about a computer.

My computer I bought at Staples wheeling my mother.  I remember the man who helped me.  I got that amazing memory every one tries to fuck with and destroy.  My computer is what they used to keep track of me because I had quit Disney.

Since, this appears to be a Jon Hamm day, anyone remember my trip to New Orleans?  I remember.  Going to the US Mint museum seeing Jon Hamm looking down the stairs.

I guess they brought him along because of the phone call we had at Disney.  I bought a salad at WaWa, then went to work.  I got a call from a man who sounded like a pissed off Hamm telling me I got the wrong one.

Also, the reason for the teen-ager you placed behind me at work.  Is she old enough to drink yet?  Didn’t look like it.  A teenaged model covered in black paint.

As if the only color paint there is black.

I’ve seen a lot of Jon Hamm over the years, I have no idea why.  Perhaps he likes to work.

• After a run on my way to my mailbox, Jon Hamm in a truck.
• New Orleans.
• Phone at Disney.
• Golf cart at Disney’s Wide World of Sports.

Is that all?  That’s a lot of Hamm.

Did you really have to put that crook in the movie?!  Fast and a crook.  Something in electronics.  I don’t like it.  He has keep away all over him.

He was not the only one, but…

My head is burning, so back to bed.

Looking at my neighbor’s heathered green front door that should have been my front door all along I am saddened at the loss of years of my life.  Nearly six years since moving here I have yet to have a home here.  I barely have furniture.  There is no hominess about.  No cute touches that show a life is lived here.

If I had not made it clear in my earlier post about the lemon water, B.C., neighbor yelling over the phone at his pool, these are puzzle pieces.

Recalling the time we lived in Oldsmar, it is when I first saw Young Sherlock Holmes on Showtime.  Why I remember it was on Showtime, I have no idea. I watched it over and over.  Cable was free in the Village at Old Tampa Bay the apartment complex we lived in.  I name the apartment complex for a reason – it is known around here.  That is to say the role the Bluetooth plays around here.

In my opinion, the role of the Bluetooth should change.

As I see it the role of the Bluetooth is to gather as much information from my head while I am at home then spread the information around media, people, communications as a way to push a program rather than create one.

The hand-off, are you kidding me?  At my front door, the light is to the right.  This man is busy, working.  Don’t bother him.  Still, it did make me laugh.

When we lived in Oldsmar we were so broke, I did not have a bed.  I slept on one of those fold-out chairs that turn into a foam mattress.  Like a glorified sleeping bag.

One morning I woke up to a noise that would not go away.  I finally figured out it was scratching.  Scratching at the wall.  When I looked I saw my cat Mimzi scratching and clawing at the wall.  When I looked further she was attacking a snake that had found its way into my room.

I got up.

I went to tell my mother, trying to figure out what to do who immediately went into her room and shut the door.

She was scared.  Terrified.  It took me a bit of time to figure out, she was scared.

I got a broom, I think, and took the snake of out the house.

I didn’t kill the snake.

I wasn’t scared or careful with the snake, I got it out is all.

It is not the first time either.

When we lived in Plant City I opened the front door to discover an Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake.  I told him to leave the premises at once.  Yep, I talked to the snake and told him/her to leave.  This snake looked at me.  A bit perturbed, then left.

I would find snake skins all over our yard, rat snakes were very common.  At the time I didn’t think much about it for a suburb it was somewhat country.  However, I wonder now if the wildlife was not placed in my yard by disapproving neighbors.

A constant in my life – surrounded by people who neither like, approve, believe, or care for me.

I am unable to keep track of what every person knows around me.  What the Bluetooth knows, what the surveillance knows, what my brother the spy knows, what my blog knows.

My mother was getting sick when we lived in Oldsmar.  Our apartment had a shared wall.  My mother believed they were selling drugs out of the apartment.  She called the cops who came to our apartment to speak to her.  Of course, the smell that was making my mother sick was not present when the cops showed up.

Two policepersons, one male, one female.  I remember the woman asking me about the smell asking me if it was pot.

I said, I don’t know.

She disbelieved me.  Her face, her whole body said every teen-ager knows the smell of pot.

Ahem, I am not from Florida.

I did not go to public high school in Florida, so no.  I did not know the smell of marijuana.  However, I have been to college in Florida, so now I know the smell of pot.

I have no idea why the Bluetooth and surveillance wants me to write about this.

The colors of the front doors are significant to those who created this complex.

They were wrong.

Is this true?  Someone from out-of-town with years of experience assessed me and placed me in this house with the shared front door rather than the model home which should have been mine?  I believe they mistook indifference with unknowing.

Caring what a person does for a living and knowing the kind of person they are – are different things.

I don’t understand why all this food now is bad.  Eating less than 1,000 calories a day and gaining weight, indigestion, bloating, terrible pain, and discomfort.

Recalling a conversation with my brother, I said to him, you like Steve Wheat, his manager at the time.  He answered truthfully saying yes.  But, who was Steve Wheat really?

Guesses?  I have a few.

Going back a second, the surveillance taken of my playing with the little ones which was later used as a puzzle piece, I can almost see.  They understood they had made a mistake.  However, it was too late to go back.  They had already set plans in place and could not undo the medical disinformation.

I can almost see how they were touched at my honest laughter, and joy I created in the children.  It is true.

They could see.

This is to say this is not the same as being able to have children and get prego/pregnant anymore.

People in charge who don’t understand what truly happened.

Is a solider or General the same in battle as they are when they return to their families?

Do you see the solider when they play with their children, babies, and little ones?

No, not always.

I must lie down now.

This bad food is killing me.  This bad soap is destroying my body.

It’s good to know not everything before moving here has been destroyed, altered, and edited.

It’s also good to know that real reporting can be done and is helpful.

If something has been a certain way your whole life it is difficult to realize you are different, or not every person has a brain like yours.

Synesthesia, what a relief that was to discover and learn seeing words, numbers, and letters in your head in specific colors was neither a bad thing nor terrible.

Watching the television program that described synesthesia helped me to understand my brain and myself better.  Unlike the persons portrayed in the program it did not interfere with my life.

In the program, synesthesia interrupted the persons every day life because of what they saw in their brain and mind.  It is not that way for me.

The alphabet was in specific colors.  Numbers had specific colors.  People names were in certain colors.

It was a way for me to organize my brain, helping me to place letters to form words to create sentences so I could communicate.

It’s the way it always has been.

There is nothing wrong with that.

There is nothing wrong with being able to see words in your head.  There is nothing wrong with being able to create pictures in your head.

I am still feverish, sick in my stomach, brain-tired, and weary.

Going to rest.

I am in such pain.  Bloating.  My organs are hurting, writhing, it is painful.

The closest in the last few weeks I have imagined food was a tuna fish sandwich with cottage cheese instead of mayonnaise.  Serotonin.  I was trying to get my head better.  Still, uncertain if the pain in my head/brain is due to injury or if it has been assigned to my food due to the parking situation.

If I understand correctly will be remedied soon.

I write this to put minds at ease including S.C.  It’s hard to believe what I believe I saw.  If it is true and real why is he so happily, excited?  I don’t feel well enough to participate in joy.

All these years I have been told over and over that I don’t know that I need to be told that I HAVE to be shown the way, yet that is untrue.

I have known all along.

I am going to forget these last few years for a moment.

It was an argument over the phone at a pool in my backyard.  The neighbor behind me was in his backyard yelling and being yelled at while on his phone – over a wedding.  I didn’t hear the words he said, I saw the words and conversation in my head.

You can get the story from David Wolfe and family.  This is after his break-up with his girlfriend if anything on Facebook can be true.

Benedict Cumberbatch on BBC America, Graham Norton show, drinking water with a lemon wedge talking about an 18-year-old swimmer (Brook Bennet is the Olympic swimmer from Plant City).

And…?

Your deadlines are killing my beauty sleep.

I must lie down.  I still don’t feel well.

My work is better than you thought was possible.  It is not so difficult from a woman as you thought.  It is not so difficult from this woman.

It took me four hours to write my last piece, Coffee and Breakfast: Problem.  It doesn’t normally take me so many hours.

There is still a big problem in my head.

Being made to urinate while at work and home is a problem.  Unacceptable for any human living condition, being made to urinate on themselves.  This should be removed immediately never to return.

I was asked whether it was work that helped my head get better.  The answer is yes and no.  Yes, because then I will have more income.  No, because it is time alone that helps not any activity.

Puzzle pieces: BBC America, Graham Norton Show – Rhianna talking about the old Russian woman who waxed her.  Kate Winslet talking about helping Sir Richard Branson’s mother escape the fire on Necker Island.  These were brought to my mind again last week, I was about to write about them when I ran into interference here at my home making me unable to write about them.  This interference must leave immediately never to return.  It causes damage that is incalculable.

I just noticed somebody painted a dog’s nose on my pen cup.

This left and right facing must be from the caricature painted on glass that was made of me at EPCOT in an oak frame.  I am not sure I still have it anymore since the events that happened in 2014 causing me to get rid of, throw out, and dump nearly every possession I had.

Did they actually think it was possible for me to move away when they have not allowed me to be employed on a salary in which I would be financially independent?!

The first driving trip I could write for days and days about, but it would take a great deal in my head to get me there.

There is a failure within your system of “choices” that you fail to see as a great problem and threat to my health, brain, and capacity to function.  I am the only one who is living this life so let me paint the picture of how it feels to me.

It is as if someone is building a house every so often replacing the solid wood with Balsa wood creating collapses, closures, cave-in’s, complete demolition of the structure.  All because of a choice that is never made clear or understand that is never a choice my brain would understand since my brain is in my head and no one else’s.

The timeline as I see it for me to be able to write the picture of the events on 4/23/2018 is weeks away at best.

I want my Tuesday and Thursday back alive.  They never should have been taken.  There never should have been any co-existing.  It is inhumane.

Russia Ate My Homework.  The physical work goes too fast.  At this point I am uncertain that they didn’t put an additive, chemical, or drug in my food to make me work so fast and furiously.  That time has passed.  As that was a one-dimensional character alone.

If it is true they placed drugs in my food, added calories, it should be investigated and sentenced for it.  It creates an unfair advantage or disadvantage.  It should never happen.  It creates interference and nothing more.

Struggling to maintain order in my home, I am failing.

I need to go back to bed.