WE – DO NOT AGREE!

August 3, 2017

David Wolfe:

David,

For years I held on to the moments when we would stare into each other’s eyes, where the world would disappear.  For me the space between us felt the most real.  For me I’ve never felt or had anything like that before.  For years I have been loyal to you even though you dismissed me as delusional because I dared to call you out on following me, driving by my house, keeping tabs on me, turning your back to me as I drive by.  However, for these years of being loyal to you have left me with scars, hurt, and pain that will never heal.

There was a time when I believed we could always be friends, but that time has passed.  I cannot go back anymore.  The time at Sloppy Joe’s when I said everything bad between us disappeared – has gone.  Anytime I see you anymore like the black Cruz scratching his head all I see is someone who does not have to work for Amazon.  In fact, I am happier turning from you.

The truth is what I feel for you, David is disgust and great unhappiness.  The truth is I despise you anymore.  I don’t know how to feel anything different.

I have no idea why you allowed Edison/Ben/Cat in my life at all.  I have no idea who or if there was anyone on the other side of Edison that day at Panera when I walked outside, so I didn’t have to see or be near you sitting there inside Panera’s.  What I do know is I was trying to prove to you that day, David is we didn’t have to see each other anymore, or be a part of our lives anymore.  Edison did nothing for me ever.  Never for a moment did I ever feel anything for that 2-bit hustler.  David, you made me feel I had to prove something.  Let me tell you Edison couldn’t find a G-spot even if it was on a map.  I never had one orgasm with Edison.  More importantly, I never wanted Edison at all.

It is not possible for me to go back to a medium-sized man as it is not the kind of man I am attracted to – never was before.  Size matters to me.  I had to prove something to you, David.  And that is all.

You have stolen and taken years of my life away.  You have found a way to make money off of me, and nothing more.  Because I am nothing more to you than a means to extorts and make money off of me.  A woman in her forties is in the sexual prime of her life.  You have taken from me the chance and opportunity to spend my years with a man who I love and who would love me.  Because first and most importantly, I want and need a man in my life who was born a man, has always been a man, who will always be a man, who loves women who love men.  Anything and everything else in life comes after that.

You have taken that from me.  You have taken years of my life I could have spent having and being in love with a man.

Going back as far as election 2012.  He walked out of the toilet at the campaign headquarters drying his hands, and at the site of him I literally stammered.  6’3” ex-football player and drop-dead gorgeous.  I was so desperate to touch him I shook his elbow as he was drying his hands – true story.  On election night, I had him to myself.  Talking to each other drinking beers all I wanted to do was take him to bed.  Then, I saw the women in the room – working the room.  Suddenly, he wasn’t talking to me anymore.  He had been ushered away from me.

That night someone put something in my drink.  I will always believe that as I have never gone too far in drinking before.  In all my years, I have always kept a balance and awareness while drinking.  So, I know that what happened that night after he was kept away from me was intentional.  I literally woke up in a car with some man on top of me.  Trying to get my head together this old, dumpy, short man took me to a hotel.  And, I did not share his bed.  Because it was not my choice to be with him.  He was not the man I wanted.

I have always been and will always be a woman who will not be with just any man.

Helicopter flying overhead, he and I walked to his car the next morning.  He wasn’t unkind, or violent, or aggressive, he simply was NOT my choice.  I have a say as to what kind of man I want in my life and what kind of man I am attracted to.  I do not know who is responsible for the events of that night, but it is unforgivable.  The football player, of course, spent the night with an 18-year-old girl.

I had never felt more unattractive, disgusted, and ashamed because it was not my choice nor of my doing.  Years of my life, David.  Years you have taken from me that can never be replaced.

My mind will never change on the virtual-fucking, nor has it ever changed since it started.  The virtual-fucking is not-consensual.  I have never agreed to be virtually fucked.  I have had no choice.  Anytime someone is watching on the other side is NOT of my choosing.  I never know who is on the other side which is why it is NOT consensual sex of any kind.  Regardless of who it might be it is NOT consensual since I can never see them.

Years of my life when I could have had a man in my life who would love me.  Years of my life being loved by a man.  Years of my life I could have spent in bed with a man feeling his body.  Having the smell of him on me hours after having made love.  You have taken this from me David, so you could make money off of me and nothing more.

Just like I knew it was you, David as Craig Slotty that day at the car show, and your tell was asking me if I liked motorcycles.  I knew when “Cat” at The Container Store told me I looked nice and he/she liked my calves, I knew there was someone else talking through a person watching from the overhead cameras.  It wasn’t until I met him at Home Depot did I put it together that it was Benedict Cumberbatch talking through “Cat.”  He had the exact same effect on me.  I blushed when “Cat” complimented me that day.  When Benedict approached me at Home Depot I was just as flattered.  When, he touched my arm something else happened that made me pay attention.  It was a powerful touch.  I was so horribly flattered because of the sight of me.  Broke, starving, exhausted, barely alive, and a woman who never smiles anymore.

You monitored my reaction trying to trick me into something I knew was never real.  Because I knew that it was not because of “Cat” that I blushed.  I KNEW something else was going on.  This should not be news as this is not the first time I have explained this before.

Going back to the day of trying to get to the grocery store.  It must have been December 2014, I tried to go to Winn-Dixie, but I refused to walk in with that tall black woman.  So, I drove to Publix, pushed off the road and nearly run into.  I pulled off the road to get my head together when a black woman whom I had met while working on the campaign approached my window telling me how she had seen the whole thing.  She told me she was a teacher.  She said it was best for me to go home.  There was sky writing above the Publix.  I had absolutely no idea what was going on.  I still have no idea what any of this was.  Since I did not understand the sky writing, I thought she was trying to help me.  I believed she was warning me of danger.  So, I went home.

I still have no idea what any of that driving was all about.

Perhaps David, the reason you just gave people money was because you had this idea of funding this reality.  Perhaps, that is why you tried to force “meets” after you wrote me off as delusional because you wanted to watch me date other men on television.  Unfortunately, I have been aware.

The problem for me is I have been aware and it is not possible for me to “pretend.” After Edison, all the walls came down.  I have been disgusted by all the disguises.

You have taken years of my life, locked me in this house with that punk bitch I never wanted to see or be a part of again.  You have trapped me with the NYPD, something I never wanted.

I never wanted to be a part of any of this.

Because of the radio.  Because of seeing Vanessa Redgrave.  Because of what has happened to my hands.  Because of what has happened in this house.  I will not say thank-you anymore.

My mother is gone.  You cannot replace family.

Never did I want to return here or to this fake house that is not a home, or my home in any way.

No longer can I simply, copy that.  No longer can I follow after a movie or a song, and play along.  I am so much greater than that.  David, you have not allowed me to be who I really am.

I couldn’t be anymore unimpressed with celebrities or famous people.  So, when I hear in my head because I have just seen Dr. Dre in the car next to me, that I am in the presence of greatness.  What I say in response, without missing a beat is, Yeah, but does he know my name.  I had wanted to wear my bracelet from South Africa as a sign of respect for him.

When I see Eminem at the European Gourmet store giving the man behind the counter free samples of Monster sports drink, or at my door-step handing me my package from Amazon.  I have no idea what I am supposed to do with that.  Because I don’t know what I am supposed to do with all these celebrity sightings.

I was going to write about them, so I could feel I was participating and not having it happen to me.  But, that all changed in an instant.  I want nothing to do with them anymore.

BTW, I would have imagined Viggo Mortensen’s penis to be bigger.  It looked like someone spliced and edited that dick from a shorter fatter man.

Maybe you thought you could make me believe I was in love, David.  Maybe you thought, I would be so desperate for a man I would settle for a man less than what I am worth.  I am ashamed to discover how little I mean to you.  I mean so little to you, you give people money with no understanding of what they will do with that money.

The impossibility of my life you have placed me in.  I can no longer drive passed the high school as it is Gaylords.  I am forced to drive the other direction keeping me stuck in a fake reality I do not want.  You have me surrounded by women without any male companionship.

The moment I saw Edison was just a disguise and not a real man all the friends I had made, every connection I had built up over the time was severed and gone.  You have left me here all these years without even a single friend.  Even friends I had before Edison and TCS are severed and gone.  Their friendships cannot be restored.  The relationships with my family cannot be restored.  You have left me without any male companionship.  I never knew you to be so cruel.  You are cruelty, David.

So, if the only expression I get to have is to place a heavy or fragile sticker on the Amazon smile, or turn the smile upside down, I will do it.  Because you hurt me over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and over again, and where is all that hurt supposed to go?  I have no one to vent to.  I have no one to use as a sounding board.  Worse still, the very set-up of every single job including TCS is that my employer is my adversary.  What a terrible thing.  What a terrible thing to discover, David is actually my enemy.

David, while you get to enjoy life and have love in your life, you have deprived me of having real love in my life.  All for the sake of money.  So, you could make money off of me.

The truth of these years spent with you making money off of me and nothing more is all over my face.  My face is hard.  My mouth never turns up anymore.  I wear a permanent frown.  My upper lip has disappeared entirely.  My brows constantly pinched together from angry pain.  My eyes are the worst of all.  The color from my eyes has disappeared.   The Norwegian blue of my eyes that I had inherited from way back down the line has been replaced with a dull grey.  Bags, dark circles that never go away regardless of the amount of sleep I can get, and the lids of my eyes hang with an unspoken burden.

The only explanation can be – you are making money off of me.  I have asked for years for this to be over with, so the only explanation is how much money you are making off of me.

You are dumb if you think the celebrity sighting mean anything to me.

It does not matter to me if I see:

• Bono as the waterspider asking me what supplies I need.
• Justin Timberlake at DRC security pushing up his glasses.
• Jesses Eisenberg at DRC.
• Rooney Mara at DRC.
• Holly Hunter at the store.
• Billy Boyd or Dominic Monaghan at Amazon.
• Billy Crudup at the barber shop wearing a shirt with a heart.
• Cate Blanchett at the beauty parlor wearing tons of makeup motioning me to go across the street.
• Talk to Matt Damon on the phone at DRC. People in the room stopped talking which was a tell, then the push button of squeezing my belly tighter.
• George MacKay with a worn off black nose. Yeah, I remember going to a Mary Kay make-over, so-fucking-what?!
• Johnny Whitworth behind me at Amazon.

And, so many others over all the years.

Let me make sure you understand this point, I will never allow you to do what you did with Edison again.  I will never again sign up for on-line dating for you to make fun of me again.  I wouldn’t wish this fake reality upon my worst enemy.  I will have it real, or I will have nothing at all.

I did not return the Grand Tour hat, nor the shoes I bought because I loved those Top Gear guys years ago before Amazon.  And, I am tired of not having any clothes, or shoes, or choices for that matter.

I placed an order at Kohl’s for a few clothes, PJ’s, and shoes that were Shaun T endorsed.  That order either through my computer, or the internet, or some other means did not go through.  I was not able to make that purchase.

I cannot copy the black and white wolf from Lady Hawke.  I remember Erin at TCS saying she was going to help “Cat” to become a lady, and a proper dyke which is why I can only receive groceries at night.  Because I do not even like James Franco because I do not even know James Franco.  And, David you are not a black man.  You are from German descent.  So, I cannot play and follow this nonsense of copying and following movies.  I cannot say it enough times, I am so much greater than, copy.

The days of Pebbles and Bam-Bam are gone.  I have always said it has been taken out of context when I spoke of you, David making me so angry I saw red.

I can never say it enough times how much I never want to see that fuck-o Franco again!

Please David, let me go.  Please allow me to have a life again.  I am so unhappy.  You have no idea the harm you have done and caused.  There is no way to go back to the people and friends we were before.  Please stop abusing me for your profit.  You have left me locked up with a man I never wanted, nor do I wish to ever see again.

Please let me go.

I can never think of you the same way again.  I will only ever be able to despise you for what you have done to me.

Please stop hurting me for your financial gain.

Release me in all ways.  The hurt is too deep.  Too much time has passed.  There is no going back.

I will despise you for the rest of my life for what you have done to my life, and how you have allowed me to be handled as a baby and not the grown, capable, amazing woman I used to be.  You have taken it all from me.

Please stop pretending this is about love, or marriage, or anything other than money for you.

Let me go,

Cherith J Gjestland

This is several hours behind the actual event, however I am running out of time quickly as it took me more than eight hours to clean up after some troll illegally entered my home while I was at work.

And, you wonder why I won’t marry an orange t-shirt?!

Oh, yeah, not to mention the enormous zit that appeared between the top part of my butt cheeks.  Right, where my G-string panties would make contact.

YGTBFKM!

You Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me!

To say I am miserable would be less than an understatement.

Fucking pissed about the clean up!

Unbearably sad that my cats were taken away from me.  I want my Tuesday and Thursday back!

Do you know when my brother left with my cats in his car, I called him back immediately.  He wasn’t gone a few minutes before he came back.  I wanted to tell him how unhappy and what a mistake it was to allow “Kat” to cat-sit for my cats while I went to San Francisco for a few days.

I wanted my brother and people to know how upset I was that I was talked into allowing “Kat” to cat-sit by “Marvin” at The Container Store.  It felt wrong at the time, and it proved to be a bad decision.

When my brother returned the cats were not making any yowling or crying noises in the car.  I believed at the time, they had already been handed off to a neighbor.  It is what I believed.  The Bluetooth knew it.  So, of course it devastated me to read that my brother sent them to the pound.  When I went to the pound for answers I heard a crying baby in a car that sounded fake.  I believe all of this has been people finding ways to send my driving in my car #1 To watch me from the hidden cameras in the car, #2 To have the radio on, so people can watch me with audio.

So, of course, I am beyond consolable.  I am beyond over the real damage people do to me just so they can watch my real tears.

The last time I saw my mother alive, my real mother was at a dentist appointment the nursing home set up for her.  She wore a purple shirt that was not anything I bought her, or had left at the nursing home.

Do you know I no longer FEEL emotions.  I no longer have the emotions attached to memories.  Memories like my mother.  Just a few short years ago and they are all gone.  Like a light turned off.  Severed.  It is a terrible thing to allow to happen to a person.  Years and years, and decades of memories – shut off.

And, you wonder why friendship or communication between David or James could never again be possible, for they are linked to the terrible-ness that has happened to me in the last few years.

My mother wore a purple shirt, she was happy to see me which was her norm.  The midget of a dentist I never understood.  He did not look like a dentist to me.  My mother’s teeth had never looked better.  I told my brother they had to have sedated her to get her teeth so clean.  I know what it was like trying to get her to brush.  She did not like it.

I never should have given up caring for her even if it killed me.  This life is nowhere near worthwhile.  My mother would be ashamed of me and the state that I am in physically.  Unable to take care of myself.  I am ashamed of myself.

Very few things can truly compare even less can truly be replaced.  People – well, since I am not allowed in the real world it is difficult to say that people can be replaced.  I have not been allowed to replace the men in my life.  I have not been allowed to move on with my life even though all of the other men have been able to have women.  How could I ever look at anyone I once knew the same again?!

The dentist visit with my mother was very strange.  Not to mention the GPS in my phone that never got me to the correct location, just so I would be very late to the appointment.  Straws.  My brother made a mention about getting straws of different colors which was odd.  There was a blood drive bus in the parking lot.

Writing to my mother while waiting for her bus outside, I remember the wind blowing my hair.

I don’t feel her anymore.  I don’t feel my mother or connected to the memories anymore which is a terrible sin and crime.

This mediocre banana bread is why I started writing today.  Here’s what it needs, a kind of glaze to go on top.  Nutella cut with maple syrup, chopped peanuts, chopped walnuts, fresh sliced banana, then sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.  But, not the plain cinnamon you get at the grocery store, I want the cinnamon with real flavor.  I used to have a cinnamon tree.  I know the difference.  Maybe some fresh-cut strawberries to help balance the palate.  Served with a generous sized latte, followed by an espresso.  Then, I might deem it palatable.  Then, it might be acceptable.  But, it’s not right now.

Plus, I am tired of not being allowed lotion for my dry skin, and I cannot stand lanolin and grease in my soap either!

God sent his only son.

Anyone heard this story before?

I think so.

God sent his only son, so we can live by grace and not by law.

While working with “Cleveland” at The Container Store, he made a comment along the lines of flirting with him at work.  He spoke of not getting carried away with him by having too much fun and flirting with him.

To which I famously replied, I don’t think so, I am a professional.

Meaning – I have to clarify this since it has been taken so far out of context – my work life, my home life, my personal life, never crossed over.  I used to be a professional.

My mother called it business-like.  I think it used to surprise her when I was able to not be the cute little girl.  I imagine it must be most difficult for parents to see their children as adults, for they will always be their children regardless of their age.  Please do not be too literal, or take this out of context.  For, I was not born in a lab – I used to have parents.  Before this house.

In the last few years a lot has been made to me for swearing.  A lot has been made about my swearing.  There are those who used to know me who would not be surprised or offended by my vocabulary.  There are others who do not like it.

The Ten Commandments.  In the Old Testament.  Rules for which Christians were meant to live by.

Do you believe it is possible to follow rules, follow orders, follow guidelines, and your heart is no where in them?  I believe that.  And, I am not the only one.

God.  The God I know.  The only God there is, cares nothing for following orders, or rules, or checking off items on a list.  He is and will always be most interested in our heartmind.

God could have created life to do as he pleased whenever He asked of it, yet He chose to give man and woman free-will.  Ask yourself why he would do that?

Free-will.

God wants and desires the relationship.  He created the entire world, yet He looked it over and saw it was missing.  It was missing what God wanted most which is the relationship.  God did not want to be alone.  God does not want to be alone.

I used to be a professional.  When I was at work, I was at work.  I always did everything the same, so that my supervisors would know my work.  So, that I could never be called into question about my work.

I used to tell people, children are the small, sticky people.  This is a bit I took from Rita Rudner, and it was only in jest.  I was never serious when I spoke in this way.  I used to say my children are four-legged.  For, how else could I explain how a woman my age was still single, all alone, without any make prospects – ever – and did not meet the requirements of what normal should be.  I was embarrassed about myself, for my life, and where I was in my life.

Also, I was protecting my harmful past.  I was protecting  the fact that I had an abortion, and to this day am still conflicted by it and my decision.

I will never understand how someone else gets to have control over another human beings decisions simply because they have money.

Again, I will never believe I needed surgery.  No one will ever be able to convince me again.  It is an unrecoverable loss.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree as they say.  My mother was in her sixties before I ever saw her wear denim.  My mother never wore jeans – ever.  She always used to dress – well, the best way I can say it – she was not from Florida.  She grew up rural.  In a very small town, extremely poor.  She used to tell the story of returning from school one day to no food in the house.  The only item was black pepper in the cupboard.  She took a glass of water and put the pepper in it, and drank it.

I understood my mother better once she told me this and her stories.  She was not a woman who wanted to go back to nothing.  She always did her hair, make-up, wore jewelry, accessories with her outfits, and so on.  And, I was the same way.  That was before this house.

See, I think because someone placed a camera in the X-box, gave it to my brother and told him to bring it in the house, that they thought they knew who I was.  It is a great untruth and a lie.

It would take close to $30,000.00 to replace everything I have given away since this house, and that is not including my car that was totaled.  Items I was made to feel I had to give away.  This house is not who I am.  This life I am living is not who I am.  It never will be.

I used to be cute, I used to dress up, I used to wear make-up every day.  I used to wash my face.  I used to be a real person.

I never wanted to return here.  I never wanted to stay in Florida.

Let me tell you a story:  “Erin” broke up with her partner “Rene”.  “Erin” made these big crying scenes, spoke of abuse, and how she had to leave.  She was going to move out, I offered to help her.  Why would I not?  Why would I not help a person who was hurting or in need?  I am making this point because it has been used against me for years.  Caring for others has been used against me – for years.

“Erin’s” house and household was never of the same quality, or caliber of which I would have felt equally compared to mine.  Did I judge her, no.  Why would I?  How she lived her life was her decision – not mine.

I offered to help her move which she knew I would.  I remember texting “Eric” about sweating so much, and that I was helping a friend.  When at her house, she was rushing around cleaning which never seemed clean to me.  It was one of the oddest experiences I’ve had while at The Container Store.  The next time I saw her at work, I told her she was going to get back with her partner.  Because something was wrong with the whole scene.  I was NEVER going to hang out with “Erin” while she was separated.

It is a huge deal.  For which I want credit.

I understand that while working at The Container Store, they used the cameras to put on a television show for which I never received payments, nor gave permission to use me.  Also, they edited my shift there.  So, what I believe the whole world knows and knew the stories of what went on there is probably not true.

Again, I was never going to spend time with “Erin” after her separation, and she did get back together with her partner a week later.

David Wolfe, I want you to know and admit you have created a hostile work environment for me.  I want you to admit that in Las Vegas, when the man at the limo held his hands in pleading, as if he was trying to offer marriage – was nothing more than a lie.  I want you to admit that you made out with Courtney at the beach to try to force/push me into dating again for the sole purpose of re-creating the Edison program for which you make money off of, and nothing more.  I want you to admit you knew I was never going to date again after Edison because of your deceptions which made it impossible to believe I would be able to date real men and have a real physical, intimate relationship.  I want you to admit you have made it impossible to ever be your friend again.  Because you could end this all and give me back my life, yet you choose not to.  You have made it impossible.

James Franco, I want you to admit your marriage proposal was never real, and it was nothing more than a publicity stunt.  You never meant it to be taken seriously.  You never meant you were proposing to me.

For your information – and this covers years here and is not limited to Sims4 alone, I am referring to all the games (which is why I drove past game-stop) and camera work that has gone on for years now – I cannot now nor will I abide by your definitions and descriptions.

My father purchased a french-door refrigerator for our plant city home.  This has nothing to do with any famous persons or anything to do with the name it is simply the design.  I liked the design and my father purchased it for me, for the house.  True story.  With my mother in the wheel chair.

I still like the design.

I have no idea why I was subjected to a wet bed.  Being forced to bed-wetting.

I have no idea why I was subjected to urine-soaked clothing for which I had to take a day off from work.

How very un-cool, unmanly, inhumane, and ungracious of you.

Not a nice nor kind way to repay patronage.

I cannot be driven, contained, ordered, told, maneuvered, nor persuaded into placing items in my game, or in any other purchases in my life.

For clarification, my t-shirt that reads masterhood, in my mind and thought process, has nothing what-so-fucking-ever to do with a hood or hooded sweatshirt, or anything else.  It has to do with push-button control and nothing more.  And, you know it.

I like what I like.

Every person does.

You cannot starve a person emotionally and expect that to ease their pain they will all of a sudden switch teams.  It does not work that way, and you know it.

I like the colors I like.  I like the look I like.  I like the height I like.  I like the light I like.  I like the sun I like.  I like the daytime I like.  I like the moon I like.  I like the night-time I like.

To do otherwise will always ring false.

To force otherwise will always ring false.

Step aside.

Step down.

Stop yelling.

Man up.

And, fucking listen for once.

Good-bye, Charles!

I warned you.  I told you.  I told you, motherfucker.  I gave you all the bad signs.

I told you.

This is my body!  You don’t own me!  You don’t control me!  You don’t manage me!  You don’t handle me!

It is MY body!

I choose!

You don’t get to tell me what to do with my body!  You don’t get to tell me what to wear!  What to eat!  How to dress!  What to watch!  Who to fuck!  Or how to have sex!  If I want a man to eat me out, he will!!!  And, it will not be his fucking fingers I want!

He will not tie me up, I don’t find that sexy!  He will not hand-cuff me, I don’t find that sexy.  He will not beat me.  He will not hurt me.  He will not stick his fingers or his tongue in me every time I sit down!

It will never be anything other than a straight man!!!!!!

I have been telling you for years, but you don’t know how to listen properly.

I would tell you to grow a beard and become a real man, but that would be a waste of time.

So, good-bye!

There is just not enough time (not a code) in the day.

I know if everything were to go back to pre-this house it would take months and months if not years to recover.  These days off and I am still a mess and in PJ’s.  I am not back to my norm.  Restricting me indoors only.  Restricting my exercise because I am not allowed to go running anymore – Problem.

Pay attention to the signs as the call on yesterday (Saturday) was not the same.  It was Not A Problem (NAP).  NAP, at all.  Not the same.

I need to work because I need to lose weight.  I am too heavy.  I don’t like it.

Overwhelming sadness.

I am uncertain if I will publish the rest of the letters and journal entries I shared with these two computers.

I was looking for a particular entry I know I wrote, however I could not find.  I will write again.

Let me preface this with:

I bought Japanese beer.  I bought Kirin Light beer what I received was pain and infection in my mouth which is why I have stopped laughing and smiling anymore.  Plus, I am sick of being hot and sweating to death.  Also, I know the reason my license plate was not given to me by random.  Blockbuster used to have a program called Genius which would recommend movies based on previous rentals.  The Blockbuster in Plant City where I am most recently from, the main one I used to rent from has now been turned into a optometrists.  While caring for my mother I was able to rent so many movies I probably put them out of business myself.  It is a figure of speech.

Two things: Master class.  It is another figure of speech alone.  I longed for Master class performances, movies and films to learn from, expand my world and understanding, develop myself, to be transported beyond the walls that kept me, etc.  I could sit through an entire movie of boring and lame if it had at least one moment that defied, was more, was an experience that has to be felt and lived.  So, I rented anything and everything.  I mean everything.  Very seldom did I stop watching a DVD, but it did happen.  Some were just too, well, you get the idea.

Genius recommended Akira Kurosawa’s Drunken Angel.  It was the first of his films that I watched.  Fifteen minutes into the movie, and I stopped it.  And, started it again.  Because I realized I was watching something that was more than a film.  It was great art.  It was revolutionary politics, empowering gender equality, and performances that I can not believe have not been mentioned more, discussed more, and given credit.

Takashi Shimura – Wow!  What a great face.  OMG!  He doesn’t have to say anything.  His face says it all.  He is compelling, and moving, and so unbelievably credible.  Seven Samuri is my favorite of his performances.  Just, wow.

Toshirô Mifune – You got to be fucking kidding me?!  This man is a movie star without saying a word from the moment he is on-screen.  You cannot teach that.  He just is.  The drunk scene with the doctor, grandmother, and the other woman (I forget her name) with Mifune not saying a word, yet commanding complete attention.  As I have spoken before he used every square inch of real estate in the shot.  WOW!  It is amazing to watch.  So much so, that Johnny Depp and Tim Burton copied (figure of speech – I am sure it was more of an homage) it in Edward Scissorhands.  He is by far one of the greatest actors I have EVER had the privilege of watching.  Ever.

BTW, I cannot help it if these fuckers have editing control sticking tongues everywhere.  Plus, I did it first.  I wish I still had that photo, to show you the difference.

Akira Kurosawa – This man is amazing to me.  If the translation is correct than the dialogue in the film was calling (figure of speech, don’t think so much about my word choice and listen to what I am writing!) for women to not be used, abused, and beaten for their sex, for their ability to create status through marriage, or for any other reason.  What?!  If the translation is correct than the film was calling for an end to sacrifices, to HariKari, to ancient traditions that are not a true reflection of feelings, or pain, nor did it solve what created the pain and hurt.  It is mind-blowing to this day.  That in 1948 a Japanese man created a message for the whole world to remember and know for eternity post WWII enough was enough.  There were and are greater things in the world than killing, and hurting others.

I very much doubt that Akira Kurosawa ever had to show his work to teacher.  For he was speaking through film without explaining every single detail.

This is who I am, I was so moved by the film, I rented, researched, and read everything about Akira Kurosawa.  I wanted more.  For what I saw in him, Akira Kurosawa was a man who put everything he had in his films, in his art.  I have spoken this before – He directed from his heart.  Let me explain this: He was directing from his heart place of emotion that cannot be guided, or controlled, or manufactured, or taught – it simply is.

I was conflicted, I am conflicted with my appreciation of Akira Kurosawa’s work for what I also saw was that his great film work probably was at the expense of his family, his family life, and his family relationships.  For how could a mere mortal give so much of himself, his heart, his emotions, his passions, and his art and not have to take away from another area of his life?

I had no idea why I had never heard of Akira Kurosawa before.  I believe it was racism.  For he should be spoken about over and over and over and over.  He is amazing.

Continue reading “Declassified Files: A Series of True Events Being Brought to Light”

Went to sleep at night for a change.  Sober as a skunk.  To images of slashing, cutting, stabbing, jabbing, taking the length of a knife down the middle of my forearm ripping out my veins as the knife went.

Is there anyone who can explain this me?

I didn’t think so.

I took a shower last night, hoping that I might for the first time (not a code) in years be clean.  Nope.  It didn’t happen again.  I have no idea why I am not able to receive items unaltered as I order them.  Without discussion.  Without debate.  Without coded words.  Without anything other than the product as it is supposed to be.  Coated with lanolin, or coco butter, or oil of some sort – the hand lotion I ordered sitting on my skin like a stiff blanket.  It’s gross.  It’s disgusting.  And, it sent me to a state of depression I cannot abide.

I am not doing well.

I feel there is an interest in puzzle pieces, so I am writing.  I feel they are waiting, however I am at an end with puzzle pieces.  I have had too many years of hands, and dildos.  Too many years of only hands.

I am beyond sad.

Sims4, I took my name off your game because I am so disgusted.  It is how I feel.

My soup needs meat.  Bacon.

I want it known, I despise speaking in my head.  I despise conversations in my head.  I cannot stand it.  I abhor it.  I have never for one moment liked it.  I have found it nothing but obscene abuse.  I believe any abuse to be obscene.

Puzzle pieces:

My brother gave me a book to read.  The timing on this is muddled for me.  I remember having the conversation with him about what I thought of the book, however the book was of a nature I did not want to relive.  A Russian prostitution ring, where the women were being held in a house, ball-peen hammer being used on their hands, and other places to hurt them.  What I remember of the book is Russian prostitution, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer, ball-peen hammer.  Over and over.  I was looking to literature to be transported out of my life, out of where I was living, into beauty, and a place where belief was possible.  I was not interested in reliving a past, or my past.

Thanksgiving 2012.  I was still recovering from surgery.  Yet, this house is alive.  Everyone failed to understand what this house would feel like to live in since it is alive.  All the electrical appliances are alive.  All the lights are alive.  All the fans are alive.  The A/C is alive.  The walls have ears.  Camera’s everywhere.  This place is a far cry from rest, relaxation, and comfort.

Is it any wonder I wanted to leave here instead of spending my first Thanksgiving here?

I will never be able to fully explain the way it feels to have to live here.  There is not enough tin foil in the world.

I had visited Savannah, GA before, it is a great city.  It is the first engineered city in the US.  It is a day’s drive away from here.  So, I left.

I will never understand the motorcycles constantly in front of me as I am driving.  I was worried about making the correct turns, however I believe this to be the work of the Bluetooth in part.  I stopped at the beach as soon as I got to Savannah.  It is something I had been dreaming about while taking care of my mother, being outside, being free, not being on a schedule anymore.  Feeling the wind on my face, in my hair, smelling the purified salt air, my bare feet on the sand and water regardless of the temperature.  A beautiful piece of driftwood was on the beach, so I took a photo.  Ryan hearts Abby in black sharpie.  A large family that looked like they had just finished their meal, took to the beach with a football.  How nice for them.  I was far from being in the holiday spirit.

I checked into my hotel as it was getting dark.  I put my luggage in my room, then walked to the corner gas station for a bag of chips and a six-pack of beer, a turkey microwave meal from the hotel lobby, and my first Thanksgiving away from my mother, I sat on my bed and watched Castle episodes before finally falling asleep.

I went to the Naval museum, where the tour guide pointed out the carpet design that hid a vent or some other function of the once famous house.  What?!  Come on, who does that?  Moment.  Snap-shot in my head.

I walked and walked the city.  I wanted to get a drink at a bar and walk, yet there was this – thing in my head I hadn’t figured out how to tell them, you don’t own me, motherfucker – so I kept walking.  I wanted to find a handsome man and have a romantic travel adventure.  I believe that day is past anymore.

I went to Burt’s Bee’s shop which was lovely and full of things I hadn’t thought about.  I bought soap.  I bought Christmas presents for my brother.

I went to this cute shop that was part antique store, part old-fashioned ice cream soda shop, part chic, contemporary coffee shop.

I went to the antique stores because I have a thing for antique stores.  You would think I was a lady the way I go goofy over antique dishes.  All sorts of pretty tables enter my mind, and I dream of the luxury of pretty things.  Also, I have this silly notion about a wedding ring.

As a little girl I did not dream of getting married.  Actually, that is partially untrue.  When we lived in California I used to brush my hair in front of the mirrors in the living room, in my white nightgown, saying it was my “be married” dress.  I did this in front of company, so I have been told.  I don’t remember it.

When I was in my early twenties I dreamed of finding a wedding ring in an antique store.  This was after having read in Vanity Fair about Blood Diamonds.  The thought of buying a new diamond ring disgusted me.  So, I thought what if I got a wedding ring from an antique store?  There is no way to put the diamond back once it has been removed.  Plus, what if the ring had a story to tell?  What if it could be a continuation of another couple’s great love.

I am a silly girl, I know.

I went to all the antiques stores, book stores, clothing stores.  They have some great stores in Savannah.  I just have never had any money.  There is a great fountain in Savannah.  I took pictures.  It is a fountain that is so well placed it is hard to take a bad photo.  My stage name at Disney used to be Fontaine.

I had fried green tomatoes and watched the guys in the black SUV watch me as I ate.  I went on the tall ship that was docked.  I love Tall Ships.  I have always wanted to take a long vacation on a tall ship.  I saw David Wolfe, zooming by on a boat while I was by the tall ship.  Wish he would leave me alone.  There was a lot of unusualness in the air in Savannah.

I posted in my blog at the hotel before returning home.  It was a piece about feeling like a nomad.  Because I had yet to find a place that felt like home.  Norwegians being nomadic, wandering the world, conquering peoples, exploring, basically wearing the t-shirt that reads, you can always tell a Norwegian, but you can’t tell him much.

I stopped at Daytona Beach on my way back home.  Walking and walking the shore.  Freezing to death as it was too cold in the wind for what I was wearing.  Finally, I returned home to my cats.

I want to know why my cats had to be taken from me.

Savannah is a great city that feels like a town.

Whoops, sorry.  Almost forgot.  Just before I got to Orlando, “Aubrey” called me wanting to know if I wanted to meet them at the Thai temple for a ceremony.  Sure.

Something to know about me, I am high energy.  How else do you think I was able to work full-time, go to school, go to Thespis meetings, go to student government meetings, and keep the morale of those in the Thespis society going?  Because I took naps?  I don’t think so.

Do you know when I ran for Thespis President, I ran unopposed?!  Perhaps David had something to do with it, or perhaps everyone understood what a waste of time that would be.  In Reg’s speech at the Honor’s Society I received for Leadership in the Thespis Society, he wrote about how much I put into not only the required facets of the position I held, but also the human relationships I spent my time and energy on.  For, the only way I know how to lead people is through relationships.  I do not believe in leaders who dominate, control, torture, or demand.  Haven’t you known a person that you would do what they asked of you because of the person they were?!  That is a person that does not need a title to be great.  They simply exist in their skin, and the rest of them extends beyond their skin.

When, I met up with “Aubrey” and her daughter – two things.  One, the relief that washed over the man’s face who had been following me as I met up with “Aubrey”.  Two, she mentioned that watching Castle was sort like porn.  Snap shots.  Not a problem.

When I worked at Disney, I received a call from a man who booked a vacation and spoke to me about the difficulties he had with the Russians while adopting Russian children.  He adopted more than one child, the exact number I am not certain.  The only thing that was amiss to me was the fact that he did not seem overly excited about children he travelled to get, and all the money he was spending on them.  This phone call was in no way – a problem.

I doubt anyone was surprised by my reaction on Sunday.  I believe it was expected that I would continue and not pursue medical attention.  How many domestic abuse victims and cases go on unreported?  How many rapes go on unreported?  As those in charge are aware of my past abusive boyfriend.  I did not, nor do I wish to share this information about Sunday.  I am only doing so now for Russia.

Let me pause, for a moment.  I wanted to read James Joyce.  I wanted to read The Dead.  I wanted to continue my literary journey.  I went to Barnes and Noble, looking for books.  No James Joyce.  I asked the aproned help about James Joyce, they could not help me.  Now, there was an African-American man standing in Barnes and Nobles looking at me so much that I wanted to ask him if I could help him.  I believe he was wearing his badge, his gun was in his car.  Can I help you?  Like a sore thumb he stuck out.  I will never understand this, following me everywhere.

Can I help you?

I mean, come on.

Sunday, what felt like an electrical charge that started at my neck, went down the length of my back, and across the middle of my back.  I made no noise.  I started to let out pain, but held it in.  I ignored the pain as much as possible.  Breathing was very difficult.  I could not get a full breath in, by the end of the night I was grunting to get breath.  It felt like I had broken ribs.  It turns out my neck and back were badly burned.  Then, two days later one side of my neck was swollen larger than a softball.  For me, by not uttering a noise, I was turning my back on those who did it to me just to watch me suffer.

I am not interested in writing anymore about it.

Adults who use diapers as sexual play things are gross: Haven’t you ever watched something on tv that you would never do in your own life?!  I remember flipping through the channels and finding things like that.  Adults dressed as children and babies and having sex?!  Yuck!  But, you sit there, or at least I sat there, however in my head I was thinking, do people actually do that?  Is this made up?  Is this just for show?  Who would do this?  Who would go on tv and do this?  What would interest a person to do such a thing?  What kind of personality does a person have to do something like that?  On and on.  And, not just that show, all kinds of shows.

Have you ever had to teach yourself to laugh again?

When I was taking care of my mother I felt myself in a very bad way.  Flat.  Emotionless.  It is hard to explain.  I remember watching home shopping shows just to hear people talk.  Is that how people talk?  I remember watching “church” shows to hear people talk.  I remember seeing sex show (it is the best way I can explain it) to remember what sex was.  Is that what sex is?  Is that what sex looks like?

This is unbelievably embarrassing and hurtful to have to share these stories.

I remember laughing at The Container Store and thinking to myself, was that too loud?

I’ll let you think about that for a moment.

I was completely unaware of how to feel, behave, or understand how I was perceived anymore.

Turns out, I wasted my time teaching myself to laugh again.  For, I don’t laugh anymore.  Not for years.  Nor smile.

When they took away my ability to have children, they left me without the ability to be penetrated by a man.  Visualize that.  Think about that.  Instead of a hole there is this hard rubber disk that does not open or expand or bloom.

All those years dreaming of finally being able to find a man and get married, and it has been taken away from me.  Hands do not do it for me.  It is not what I want.  It has never been all I wanted.  There is a difference between keeping up sexual maintenance, and sexual fulfillment.  And intimacy.

In a way they left me disabled.  I am not able to have a full sexual life.  No one will be able to explain this to me.  No one will be able to tell me why this was acceptable to do to another person – to do to me.

I wish I had never had that surgery.  I would have been better off in an emergency room for I believe it would never have happened.  The doctor told me it would have been a year and I would have been in an emergency room having an emergency surgery.  I will never again believe this.

I will never understand why my sex was taken away from me.

When I understood Edison’s deception, I stopped believing in David Wolfe.

David Wolfe and his girlfriend made these You-tube videos which basically made fun of me, however I was proud of him for doing something and making videos.

However, I stopped believing in David Wolfe because of Edison.  It will never be the same again between us, ever.

My sex has been forever taken away from me.

I am no longer sexually viable.  I am no longer sexually attractive.  My sex has been taken away from me.  Like a eunuch.  In this day and age, I have been subjected to such falseness.  They have left me like a eunuch.

Why would I ever think a man would want to marry me?

Best Reference Letter I Ever Received Because It Was All True

Christian Television Network 1992

WORSHIP was a program on satellite.  Back in the nineties that meant you had to have property to house the gigantic dish of a satellite.  My brother was a computer programmer back then, he had been working for the new network for a short while before I got the interview.

I had just sat down.

Well, I know your brother, so if you’re anything like him then you have the job.  Do you have any questions for me?

Just like that I was hired.

No.

I did not think about it.  If they did not want to run me through an interview it was fine by me.  I knew who I was, I knew I would be good for them.  I am good for any company I work for.  No false modesty.  It is simply the truth.  I take whatever job I’ve had, as my own – this is me, my whole life.

It is part of why I disagree – a lot.

I was hired to pray.  A Prayer Partner.  I was hired to sit in the audience and pray while the on-air talent, the personalities delivered their message to the camera.  It was not long after being hired, I was given another job as well.  Phone Screener.

The personality host would take live calls during the program.  So, there was a need for a phone screener who could separate the weirdos from those truly interested in the program.  Delivering a message that could be used on-air while coordinating with the Floor Director, and the personality host.

I was good.

Our team, the Floor Director, the personality host, and I were good together.  We were the misfits, the outcasts of the Christian world.  We were the ones who had partied before, gone off-the rail, or, I think the popular term to use is backsliders.  We, each of us had backslid in our lives.  We worked well together.

There were time slots to fill.  The floor director needed from me a certain amount of calls, so he could fill his required air-time.  The personality host had his time slots to fill.  Blurbs he had written to preach, share the word to the world.

On one phone call, we needed on-air time.  I received a call.  Blah, blah, blah, and I knew what the caller wanted to talk about.  So, I spoke with the personality host.

Listen, this caller says she wants to share a poem, but I know she really wants to talk about – I think, it was something in the news, or politics, something that could be potentially divisive and un-airable.

It was also a part of my job to make sure my personality host did not get left hanging while on-air.  Given an uncomfortable situation, he had to talk himself out of while on air because it was live.  The program was live, then it would repeat over and over all night.  I never had to have this spoken to me it was something I knew was just part of the job.

I’ll take the call, he said.

I wasn’t angry, or determined, or with any attitude of, you’ll see.  I gave him the information I had.  I allowed him to make his choice of how he wanted to proceed knowing the information.  So, he took the call.

It didn’t take very long for this caller to start off subject from what she said she was going to speak about.  I cut her off.  I had the ability to mute, and end calls.

After the call, during the break, the personality host sat down on the set, contemplative for a moment.  He looked at me, we spoke a bit about the call, and moved on.

Money is always a problem with religious programing.  Finding funding, finding a financier, and keeping it going with money.

The entire floor was laid-off.  They kept the personality hosts and floor directors, and that was it.

Everyone was mad and upset.  Mostly everyone was hurt by the sudden lay-off which happened just before Thanksgiving.

The personality host I worked with was nice and kind enough to give me a letter of recommendation.  It was one of the most thoughtful, and specific to my talents, of a letter.  He wrote about how much he trusted my judgement from working with me.  It was near to gushing about me, my abilities, and the benefit any employer would receive while I was in their employ.

I never got to see him again.

I was given the letter in an envelope on my last day.  However, I was very grateful to him.  For not only did he recognize that I was right, he acknowledged his own short-coming, and he shared how important it is to have people of worth that you cannot see with the human eye.