Category: Uncategorized

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January 7, 2019

 

I hate that job!  Under normal circumstances I would have found another job after only a few months of that work.  It is a long shift.  Feet, hands, my whole body, I am not a teenager anymore.  It is not of any interest to me either.  Just keep going faster, and faster, keep working faster and faster, so you don’t think anymore.  Well, I hate that job.

I think she is addicted to killing.  Who the fuck let that fucking bitch anywhere near or around my work?!  She is psychotic!  I hate that job.

Don’t food write anymore, I hate that job.

Don’t write about whatever I want to write about, I hate that job.

Don’t work during the day anymore, I hate that job.

I don’t get to do anything I want to do or like anymore, I hate that job!

I used to weigh 109, I hate that job!

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January 6, 2019

Somebody lied to you, David.  Of course, I never spoke to my brother about you, David.  It is so obvious that I would not speak to my brother about something so intimate.  The day we said good-bye to each other as you went off to University, I let you go.  I knew you had made a decision in your mind, and I was no longer there.  The love that used to be there is gone.

You did not see, you failed to recognize that is was not David that I needed.  I did not need David to be the proxy.  I went straight to the source, immediately, as soon as I saw it.  I have done so every time.  I can, turn it off.

I used to weigh 109, I hate that job.

I understand that it is how someone saw me.  Benedict Cumberbatch is the best approximation of me, my talent, my skill, my charm, my good looks, my attractiveness, yet as a man.  I am obviously seen as a woman.

It has been taken waaaaaaaaaaaaay out of context.  Because you are not able to understand how quickly it changes and moves back and forth within the script.

How could you associate with those neighbors, David?!  How could you stand there in their driveway, watching me work in my yard, and not even walk up, walk over, and just start talking?!  All you could do is stand there and watch me?  And talk about me to those neighbors?!

Sirens, alarms, SCREAMING, in my head in the presence of Nicole.  SCREAMING!  SCREAMING!  SCREAMING!  SCREAMING!  SCREAMING!  IT SCREAMS IN MY HEAD AROUND HER, ALWAYS HAS!  She is mean, cruel, vindictive, manipulative, it is very bad!

If you in any way cast an Adam because of the Adam that my brother was seeing, God help you.  That Adam I had such a bad and strong reaction to, he is on his own.  They used him through my brother to get to me.  He is nothing more than a piece of trash who used my brother for money.

If you in any way allowed “KC” to create the scenario of my hysterectomy, God help you.  Obviously, she cannot be my father.  Obviously, I would not in any way have my father perverted in such a way.  You couldn’t be more wrong.  She is sick and looks like she has some delusional fantasy about me and my family.  She needs psychiatric help.  Not from me.  Wow, I must agree to everything she says and does, or my job is in jeopardy, I hate that job.

You (many people) were sold bad information.  The betting on his life, Mycroft’s life, is about them doping my food to create the scenario of my hysterectomy.  It is not about weight gain.  It is about how grotesque obesity is seen.  It is like people sitting around a police scanner listening to the calls going out and “guessing” I bet the husband is guilty of the domestic violence, or I bet the neighbor stole this or that.  “Bet”, is just a figure of speech.  However, someone did take matters into their own hands, someone who is incapable of reading people, of reading me, and decided I need a hysterectomy, that I never needed to be with a man again for the rest of my life, that I never needed to have love, or anything I want, or like again for the rest of my life, wow, I hate that job.

I don’t ever get to work during the day anymore, I hate that job.

I don’t ever get to be a real person again, I hate that job.

I don’t ever get to do anything I want, like, or enjoy, I hate that job.

Lambert, shoots people out of the sky, he is a gunner, he is a sharp-shooter, he is a marksman, it has absolutely nothing to do with the direction, down.  You are wrong.  I hate that job.

My blinds are closed because I feel tricked from last night at work.  I hate that job.

They use the air to bald me.  Because?!  Because they took the top off my light outside my garage and I am supposed to change it with the one next to me?!  I hate that job.

Wet underwear!  I hate that job!

Balding me!  I hate that job!

I used to weigh 109!  I hate that job!

Here’s what the Peak t-shirt designs say to me, the yellow semi-truck shirt, is just about racing cars.  The airplane t-shirt is just about using Amazon as a cover for a drug business, obvious to me, I don’t agree with that or will allow it.  The Peak shirt with the smile on the sleeve is just about Lambert and Maurice, they both have slim waists.  None of them are that interesting to me.  Not anymore, I hate that job.

I don’t ever get to be a real person again, I hate that job.

I don’t ever get to do anything I want, ever again, I hate that job.

I am so unhappy, so upset, I hate that job!

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January 4, 2019

Wow, this cannot be a surprise.  I hate David.  I hate that job.  I hate this life.  There is love gone and nothing more, anymore.

Wow, I just miss being able to watch television like every other person in the world.  It is a strain on my mind not being able to know what’s going on the world, or just watch television and not have to think for a few hours.  I am so disinterested in your fake news stories that amount to nothing more than what Cherith ingests or wears.

Only do it this way.  Only have this food.  Only have that.  Only have women and being surrounded by women for the rest of my life.  Only have it black and white, or else.  Never ever being able to have sex with a real man for the rest of my life.  Wow, I guess I hate that job.  Wow, I guess I hate this life.

Nothing happens when I don’t write for a day.  So, end it.  I want my life back.  I used to be a real person.  I hate this life.  I hate living like this.  I told you, weeks ago while driving, you are too late.  I am a real person, with real emotions, with real feelings, and I told you, you were too late.  I am not a television show to script and schedule.  Any momentum I had achieved, is gone.  You are too late.  You do not get to script or schedule time for damage done to my emotions.

I do not believe that the Eel is real.  Not anymore.  I believe you created a fictious person and fictitious UN alarms, so you could create another series or television shows or films.  You are all on your own.  I am not interested in helping you.

I couldn’t possibly be any less interested in being a guidance counselor or a counselor to persons in prison.  What a waste of my talent and skill.

Can you look at a man and see that he works in a micro-brewery?  That he created a beer with cinnamon and pumpkin?  Can you?  Can you hear a voice and in your mind travel around the world and LOOK AROUND IN YOUR MINDS EYE?  I can.  I do.  It has nothing to do with a Crown or surgery.  Something I’ve had my whole life.  What a waste of my talent and skill.

They had me “talking” to a “prisoner”.  A prisoner where significant progress had been made because of me and my lead.  Then, I see in my head they are using a translator.  Using video conferencing.  I see it is a woman.  I said, I question her motives.  I questioned her motives for wanting to help and wanting to volunteer.  Just like that, almost that fast, she was gone.

Must have been the 15^th of December when Chelsea walked over to me to give me my numbers again having to listen to her while alarms are going off all over the world.  I am in such a position that I am better off dead than to be Chelsea’s numbers.

Constantly being told one thing by one person at work, then to be told to do it a different way by someone else at work.  No one is ever accountable for their actions.  They changed all the boxes in line 4 at work.  If an item went down the line that did not fit the box, the monitor (or computer program) that programmed the size of the box, then the item was supposed to go to Problem Solve because that item was NOT supposed to be in that line.  Wow, I guess I hate that job.

As soon as I do any head work, talking in my head, helping people in my head, solving crimes, saving people, helping the police, helping the FBI, helping the CIA, helping any number of agencies, helping different countries, here comes Chelsea walking over to me with her numbers.  Placing me in such a position that I am written up for made up numbers that don’t exist.  Does Chelsea walk over to anyone else and give them numbers?  I am better off dead than to be Chelsea’s numbers.

Jim Moriarty is not a real person.  Of course, he is a real person many times over.  He is killed, he is dead, he is caught, he is sent to prison, he is sent to jail, over and over, and over again.  We, the audience know this fact on an unconscious level.  It is only when it is asked of us to analyze the characters and events that we place the words into fact in our brain.  Jim Moriarty is just crime and criminals having him be a character is just – storytelling.  Nothing more.  Jim Moriarty is caught, over and over again.  He is not a master criminal that gets away.  Do not be fooled.

Wow, I am not living in the past.  I am not in love with David.  I am not interested in reliving over and over again three nights of the worst sex – ever.  I never came once.  Wow, I am not a whore.  They had ways of projecting people.  There was the camera in the television, the electronics, the surgery, the Crown, they had ways of projecting people that were not here.  Wow, not in a million years.  How dare you place people in a sexual position with me that I would never approve of, agree with, agree to, or ever want.  It makes every person involved in those three nights an accessory to my mother’s murder.

Wow, I am not a whore.  I am appalled at these hand years.  It is not the same for me.  I do not feel anything more from any of the men.  Do you actually want to tell me that the way Hollywood, actors and actress work is only by sleeping and fucking each other?  Wow, I hate that job.

I am so appalled at David’s participation.  He is so revolting to me.  He is not worthy of me.

I am so appalled this sort of thing happens to American citizens.  My life has been taken from me.  I have no choices of my own anymore.  I don’t get to have a job that I enjoy where I can live on my own by my own means?

Did you all get to spend the holidays with your family and friends?  I didn’t.

My brother and father should probably go to counseling together, and perhaps separately as well.  My real paternal grandmother is Swedish from Sweden.

I went to work last Tuesday and through the air while at work while on the clock they used the air to place a massive boil, pus-filled sore on my taint.  They thought I wouldn’t take a picture of if on my phone.  I must work with some of the most abusive people in the world.  Wow, I guess I hate that job.

You failed to follow my lead on everything.  You failed to understand everything I was saying and writing.  You have me in such a terrible position I am better off dead than living like this.  I would rather be dead.  Wow, I am not interested in giving you any more displays anymore.  You failed to support me over and over.  I am better off dead.  Now, whenever I die, if it is soon or years from now it can always be said my death will not be from natural causes.

Just look at the color of my eyes.  My color is gone.  Wow, I hate that job.

I miss being a real person.  I want to date real men.  I miss real men.

I used to think creatively in my head while working until Chelsea came along.  I used to write adventures of my cats until Chelsea came along.  Wow, I guess I hate that job.

I am so upset, I am so upset with the instability Chelsea has placed me in with my job being able to be terminated from one week to the next, and not being able to get another job, a different job; I am not changing my shirts at work at all, ever.  Until I feel otherwise.

I hate that job.  I hate this life.

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January 2, 2019

 

So unhappy with the numbers on my scale.  So unhappy with the size of my stomach and shape of my body.  So unhappy with all of you.

I did not want to pry.  How very English of me.  It is constantly being asked of me, why didn’t I already look and read someone.  Well, I didn’t want to pry.  I am able to walk about the world without my mind scanning and looking at them with my brain.  It says a great deal about me if you are unable to understand that one sentence.

She is something else, Cherith is something else.  This is what has been said of me for as long as I can remember.  As a small child, friends of my family would say of me, she is something else.  Something they could see in me as a baby, as a child.

Did you miss me?  I used to say this almost every time I would arrive home, talking to my cats because they were at the door waiting for me, happy that Cherith was back.  My cats are not my nemesis.  My cats are not my enemies.  My cats are characters.  The only nemesis I have are those who steal from me, so readily.

It looks as though my mother was told to bring me to Timberline Lodge.  They were filming The Shining there, however, if they were filming at all it was not being done at the lodge.  It appears they asked my mother to bring me there to be seen, for a reason.  Not entirely bad.  The Stephen King connection is a bit vague at present.  All I remember is my mother speaking to a man who was keeping people away from the ginormous fan in the snow.  It has NOTHING to do with being a fan of Hollywood or celebrities.  It was as if to give me a look into production, so I would have an understanding.  I would have been nine years old.

When I was being tested in school for “learning disabilities” they could have done the testing in an unused or empty classroom.  They used a room behind the broiler because it most resembled an interrogation room.  Not a police interrogation room, and interrogation room used for terrorists, or spies, or something of the sort.  He was not sent to test or evaluated my IQ, so much as to watch and observe me.  He probably filed a report of finding that was used – this is so laughable – in the field.

Do you get it?  Do you understand, yet?  They were sending grown men and women into the field from the direction of a child.  The child being, me.  It is too absurd to not be true.

There is this story that is being told to me that I do not completely believe.  The story being that David and Courtney got pregnant after he had sex with me through that stupid man.  If this is true it is either that David was so virile after having sex with me that he got Courtney pregnant, or it was told to Courtney that she was losing her man and she should get pregnant to save their marriage.

David being so happy with the pregnancy and being a father that he had to share it with me somehow.  He had to tell me.  The reason he placed himself in front of me after I helped the persons with a baby at The Container Store.

It this is true, it is not the same for me.  I do not need to be involved in his life at all.  I do not need to know about his wife, his life, his family, or anything.  I want my own life, away from him.

To further the horrible lies, if this story is true it makes the timing of his hands on me – to me, disgusting.  He did it while Courtney was pregnant.  It is as if to say he wanted me to be the mother of his child.  As if he couldn’t help himself in any way.  He wanted it to be me.  He wanted it to be with me.  He wanted me to be the mother of his child and children.  As he has always wanted it to be with me.

I cannot say I agree or feel the same.  Not at all.  I have wanted nothing more than to move on from David.  He needs help, and not from me.  He needs therapy.  He needs help.  It is sick to me.

What you people have done to him and to me.  It is sick.

Here’s a surprise, Sculptress bras.  Sculptress bras were a line of products with Nutri-Metics.  Nutri-Metics was the only make-up and skincare I used to use.  They used to have the best ingredients.  Sculptress bras were different from other bras in the stores.  They were designed and engineered after the Golden Gate Bridge.  Designed and engineered to give support to the breasts without pulling and putting pressure on the straps and shoulders.  The design took the breast tissue from under the arms, putting the breasts and breast tissue in front.  They were, by design, a natural breast enhancer.  They did nothing but use your own breast tissue.  They did not squash, squelsh, smoosh, flatten, pancake, or droop breasts.  In my experience in wearing them the support alone, offered the best breast health.  Just by wearing them.

My mother sold these bras for many years.  She helped many women.  She helped many women who had mastectomies also.

If they still exist, I have not seen many bras that are able to offer the design that Sculptress bras had.  We like to think that the fashion of a woman’s silhouette should be a certain size and shape.  I say, at what cost?  Should fashion, should my breasts come at the cost of my health and the health of my breasts?  No.

Women, take you own body, take your hands and move the breast tissue from under your arms making your sides flat.  Notice the difference is your breasts.  Then, take your hands and place them under your breast and notice the dramatic difference in the appearance of your breasts.

Breast health is important.  Health is important.

His death, Michael Clarke Duncan’s death was meant to be a warning to me that I was supposed to notice.  How could I?!  I should not have taken the advice of a doctor who worked not only with my mother, but myself and my family.  A woman that I had known for decades?  Was she used?  Was she set-up?!  Should she have known better, yes.

It was meant as a warning to me that I was supposed to notice.  To not go through with the surgery.  It is out there in the world.  Very powerful, important people do not like these persons who have used and exploited me.  I am not to be messed with as I see from them.  I am not to be altered in a way as to keep or deter me from being, something else.

You should know by now; my real father is not much of a talker.  We would have had a better relationship if my parents had divorced.  My mother would have been happy.  My father would have been happier.  I would have been better able to communicate with him.  All those languages he speaks, I would have liked to have been able to know too.

I would be his unending joy.  I would be a man’s unending joy.

I am so very unhappy.

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January 1, 2019

 

I am beyond unhappy with the numbers on my scale.  I am beyond unhappy with the size of my body.  I am beyond unhappy with the ugly, bloated belly.  Should I thank you for making me feel UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE, AGAIN?!

Yesterday, quite literally felt like the first day off I had.  I almost started to feel like a real person again.  Then, I was hurt by the arrest of one of the men who hurt my mother.  An old lady.  It takes a really big man to hurt an old lady, to harm an old lady.

You will not be able to hide the money when I return food items that have been tampered with anymore.  The money will go back to my credit card where it will be seen, rather than credit added to my account.

It makes Publix complicit also, a friend visiting a Publix worker standing at the back door waiting to hand off a tampered product, and many other versions of this idea.  Publix selling tampered items making people sick like myself.

What did they do with my organs when they removed them?  Research or more?  Leaving me with a scar that can be seen from a great distance.  I am not a person to get a tattoo or a belly-button piercing.

Did you actually let something happen to that protective man because you underestimated the threat level here, again?!

If you are looking for a full book report on The Green Mile, I am too upset.

I wonder if my brother reconsiders some of the things he has done, some of the communications he shared knowing now that I see they paid someone to molest him as a child to create an asset to be used and manipulated.

I see their thinking.  They do not think highly or much about gay men and their lifestyle.

The conection in Sherlock, BBC, I know human ash, is the death of Arthur Ashe and the Biltmore death.  The connection being the Presidents men as a source.

If you haven’t figured it out – what I see – there was, there is, a plot, a thinking, a group, persons, set about to home-grown terrorism striking at people when they are most vulnerable, in a hospital.  In capacitated.  Also, creating chaos, damage, while putting money into health care to further their need.  To further the need for them.  Death in the form like a disease or illness where it could not be traced back to the originator.  Therefore, a criminal never caught.

It looks as though having my family moved to Oregon set about an action plan, so to speak.  Oregon is a big problem.  There are a lot of people there with hidden motives.  It is a spear-head, it is the best word I can think of at the moment.  There is still a man there in Oregon, a doctor, he is not the only doctor, who should be brought to justice and jailed for his actions, for the rest of his life.

So, miserably unhappy.  I want to be a real person again.

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January 1, 2019

Is Carrie Fisher really dead?!  Did she actually pass?!

You fucking morons!  She spoke to me at Disney!  On the phone!  The second time I worked there!

You haven’t caught that fucking bitch in Guest Services at the Tampa call center!

This woman in Guest Services was KNOWN by every person I talked to in Guest Services!  My first conversation was KNOWN!!  The first conversation I had with her was so bad, she wouldn’t take anymore of my phone calls.  She would push the mute button to pretend she couldn’t hear me!

Then, my mother ends up dead?!

You are all morons!

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December 31, 2018

 

Who would want to deprive a man of the happiness I would give him?  My adult life, all of my sexual adult years, and perhaps before that I have been denied men in my life.  Having a man, being in a relationship with a man, I would make him so happy.  There are persons who want to deprive and keep the male sex from being able to experience that happiness and the effect that would have on them from happening.  In return, I would be so happy to be able to have a man in my life and have a life with him.  I would be his never-ending joy.

However, not just any man will do, I actually have to be sexually-attracted to him.  It has been proven disguises don’t work.  I see you’re a friend of David’s.  I see this, I see the connection to this person.  Stop pretending you are not taking my life from me by pretending you aren’t there.

I have not finished The Green Mile; you people are so greedy.  John Coffey literally just means Starbucks.  People go to Starbucks every day.  Millions of people go to Starbucks.  Don’t be so literal.  You stupid copy-cats who understand nothing.

Michael Clarke Duncan actually died, didn’t he?  He is actually dead.  Him being a black actor literally means death by the color of his skin alone.  No, it is not Asian.  It is American.  There is more to his character, but before people go crazy his name is just Starbucks.

And, the reason Michael Clarke Duncan died?  Because you people set me up for a surgery that never needed to happen, and someone did not like it.  They killed someone for it.

Be careful because I am John Coffey, just not his body in any way.  I am the person who is not violent toward other people.  I am the one who makes people spirits, moods, demeanor, and attitudes change by being near me.  There are a lot of people who bring joy and happiness to others just because of who they are.

The ingestion of the badness and illness, I see and understand it better than I have time or want to write at the moment.  It is slightly more complicated, however none of this is very difficult.  Nearly anyone could have seen the connections.

I do not ingest badness or disease when I am around people.  I dispel, or repel, that is more of the mind I have.  However, I have been fed really bad stomachache’s – that is not a good thing.  A slow death, if it takes years or decades is a death, and it is a serial killer.

I am devastated that someone wanted to hurt my mother, then use it as fodder for a television show or entertainment.  Wanting to kill my brother in a car accident is a different animal, I have not brain-worked it.  My brother is not the same as me.  My father they have destroyed by having us move from our home in California.

I was correct, I needed a break, a mind vacation, I was in desperate need of time-off.

I see people are anxious for my reading of the movie, The Green Mile.  I am not yet done.

Yes, I am so upset I took Norway off my computer.  Think about it.

I would make him so happy.

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December 28, 2018

I am not your sister, Roy Campbell.  You are not my family.  I am not your friend.

 

My Mother’s tormentors and killers would be excited whilst being scared of being terrified.

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December 28, 2018

 

Pound for pound, I am not your friend.  I doubt it is possible for you to ever be correct.  Redbeard is not a dog.  A bread recipe from a newspaper clipping from the LA Times that is not a black woman or black hole, nor is it black ink.  It is just a way to tell me my mother was correct, you are too dumb to understand.  My real mother was finding the connections in the news stories and she has been killed because of you people.

Right lane ends.

The belt murder is not a knife, it is something ingested is all that killed them.  You should have been able to figure that all by yourself.  I didn’t need to hold your hand.

I drew the eagle it is the only reason I chose the design.

I am not your friend, David.  You see me as a gross, overweight, ugly black and white woman.  Who the fuck do you think you are?!  I am not your friend anymore.  When was the last time you saw me laughing?  I do not see you as Lambert the Good, David.  I have no idea anymore when you were last good to me or protected me.  If ever.  I want to be away from you for the rest of my life.  I want nothing to do with you, your wife, or any children you might have.  I want nothing to do with you.

I did not want to hold your hand.  Is that the best you could do?  You couldn’t possibly talk to me face to face?  You couldn’t possibly court and date me properly?  The best you could do was hands?  It makes you look terrified of me.   You should be.  You would never be the same again.  I am not your friend.

I want to work during the day.

Do not look to see me running anytime soon.  You are all on your own.

No, I will not of my own choice be working for the US government in any capacity or its military.  Someone got their wish in that sentence alone.

No, I will not be working with any foreign governments or their militaries.

No, I will not be working with any intelligence agencies.  You will all have to help yourselves.

I am not your savior.  I am not your hero.  I am not your protectors.

I am not an Anglophile at the moment.

I am not the criminal.  I am not your sister.  I am not the criminal.

I have only one brother, and you ain’t it.

I am not your friend.  You should be very frightened of me.  I can do the things other people take credit for.  I can, they cannot – PROVEN!

Somebody wants me to believe the Eel is a made-up person and not a real man.  You got your wish, I do not believe he is a real man or a real criminal.

You fail over and over and over, you fail.  You think the best and all that I am is guessing who someone is behind the person speaking?!  I surpassed that years ago, as a child I surpassed it.  You think my brain-thinking is just a memory technique?  I have been places in my mind, I should not know about.

The last thing I need is some gay man in love with me, so Bing was removed because of it.  New York Times was also removed.  I am not your friend.

Figure it all out on your own.

I will not be helping you.

I will not be saving you.

I am not your leader.

I am not your friend.

This is not the White House.  I will not be helping or working with anyone there or here.

I am not your friend.