WE – DO NOT AGREE!

I would never hurt or treat women the way they have hurt, treated me, mismanaged me, handled me, harmed me, devastated me, destroyed me, used me, planned and plotted against me, stolen my voice, taken away my chance at happiness, used me for profit, public gain, notoriety, denied me my rights under the constitution, denied me free access to the internet, denied me rights as a human being, denied me rights as a woman, denied me rights as a thinking individual, denied me the ability to seek out and pursue a life I want, denied me my right to happiness, and denied me my right and ability to say, write, and share the truth of my story.

In a million years I would never give a woman or man food that I knew and/or had added calories to cause and force weight gain, indigestion, the shits, bloating, or any other digestive problem.

I know what it’s like to be overweight.  I know what it feels like to be looked at by other’s as an overweight woman.  So, I would and am steadfast in my support and my encouragement of humanity.  For, there is nothing artful about forced weight gain.  Forcing weight gain and losing weight is not an art because any person can lose or gain weight.  Not every person can be an artist, singer, writer, actor, or performer – not even if they have the ability.  There is a huge difference between the two.  And, that distinction must be made.

The way you treat others is a great measure of self-worth and character.  It is easy to hurt, harm, and manipulate.  It is a great deal harder and more difficult to defy other and declare yourself a great woman.

I am first and foremost embarrassed for the women who’ve been involved in this show that has forced me to gain ten pounds in a matter of days.  It speaks so little to their character, to their humanity, to their growth as a human being living on this planet, to their very fundamental nature, and ability to choose between right and wrong.  I would never have thought my fellow women would be so low and cowardly.  I would have only seen women as I see myself, one who would help, protect, and work for the betterment of all mankind.  This is a proven fact.

I have proven this fact over and over and over for years.  It is an established, documented, and proven fact as I have been spied on through my employment, friends, relationships, through the radio, television, and my internet being hacked into.  I do not know of any other person in the world who has had to prove their sexuality, character, worth as a human being, or as an employee for as many years as I have.  I do not believe there is another human being on this planet who has been more thoroughly vetted as I have been for years, and continue to be.

There was never anything wrong with me to deserve being drugged, locked up in some isolation chamber while a shrink worked on me while I slept.

I am ashamed to have learned this lesson about my friends.  I am ashamed they were talked into participating in any way.  I am ashamed and embarrassed for every person that has been involved in all of this since it started.

It is a show and a policy that must end immediately.  Everyone involved with deception and trickery – this time come has come to an end.

For art cannot be measured by the pound, nor dollar amount.  Some works are priceless.

The original text had been altered when I brought this file up on my computer.  Almost every file, declassified or otherwise, has been altered if not all of them.  I have tried to go back and correct the text to reflect the real and truthful version I first sent out.  I first sent this out to the only source I knew could get it through to James Franco.  Then, I tried, unsuccessfully, to get this to David Wolfe who is the last and closest person I can call a friend.  However, that is quite a loose translation of the word.  I do not know the meaning of the word friend that would do, say, or knowingly allow the things that have happened to me.

David Wolfe:

FYI

July 13, 2017

You motherless fuck James Franco,

Bitch, you ain’t my black!

Who the fuck do you think you are?!  You think because you’re some stupid celebrity you have the right to tell me what I want, what I like in my cunt?!  You think because your face is in front of a camera you have the right to deceive, manipulate, and trick me?!  You think it’s funny to laugh at someone who’s been raped?!!  Because that is the only way I will ever see the events that took place in this townhouse.

You are not welcome in my bed in any fucking way!

Bitch, you are not welcome in my fucking head!

I have been fucking SCREAMING at the top of my lungs since I found out you fucking deceived me, screaming that I only go and do ONE fucking way!!!!  For over three years now! April 2014, you stupid fucking bitch!

You thought it would be funny to humiliate me like that while I was at work?!  At every work place you humiliate me like that.

You honestly, think I have been so stupid and dumb to believe this stupid marriage bull-shit?!  There is not any man I have ever met that I am interested in marrying.  To make me think there was ever any stupid notion of “marriage” other than a way to perpetuate this stupid story is reprehensible.  I am not that simple.  When really it was just a matter of my brother’s fake marriage and sitting at the wrong side of the fake marriage.

I would never have voted for you, or purchased anything connected to you if I hadn’t been coerced and forced into as a means of keeping myself employed.

Please, do not do me the disservice of feigning any notion of love.  There is no love between us.  I don’t know you, bitch.  I don’t want to know you.  If I was allowed to be employed elsewhere I would be so gone.

You fucking douche bag, you thought I was gay?!  Is it my fault no men find me attractive?!  Is it my fault you have me locked up away in isolation I am not able to meet any men?  Is it my fault the men I find attractive and sexually appealing are not interested in me?!  Is it my fault men do not ask me out?!  It’s not my fault the only men eHarmony set me up with were either too short, overweight, unattractive, uninteresting, boring, and not sexually viable!

Either side of the glass, it was never you!

Either side if the glass it was never that person!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To set me up with some skin suit, dildo wearing, dumpy fuck is beyond explanation, or any apology you could give.

I don’t want to hear your explanation.  I heard you owe me an explanation, let me free you of that burden.

I don’t want to hear from you again!

I never believed in you.  I never believed you ever had any feelings for me other than a co-worker.  You used this notion of marriage as a way to perpetuate a lie.

Bitch, I ain’t your bitch!  Got it!

Now stay the hell away from me!

Please let me go!

Please allow me to move on with my life.

Have you ever had a friend so jealous of your weight loss, and ability to maintain your weight loss for years they make a special trip, go out of their way, to make themselves feel better by harming and hurting you as if your emotions and feelings were whims for their use and entertainment?

I have not one single person I can call friend anymore thanks to The Container Store.  Truth.

Every single woman and female friend I have ever known has recently used me, tricked me, hurt me, physically abused me, mentally abused and scarred me, kept me from being able to have and find real love, and share the rest of my life with him.

It’s a shame you don’t know the meaning of the word – friend.  It’s a shame you don’t know how to stand up for a friend.  Instead you’ve played a part for your own purpose.

How fucking dare you Rachel Robar!

New Year’s Eve 2012

Sitting side by side with a white-haired old man, drinking and talking politics, I spent New Year’s Eve in a stranger’s backyard as I tried to move on with my life.  A phone call from a friend asking if I wanted to spend New Year’s Eve at a small house party.  Was I going to get out of this house?  Yes?  I’ll go.

My hair and make-up – this is an important point because I no longer know how to wear make-up – was done so that I looked my best.  Wearing my emerald colored blouse that had a casual sophistication, black leggings to flaunt my gorgeous new body, and ballet-style shoes to keep the look a refined simple elegance, I walked out of my house meeting the gaze of a man on a motorcycle across the street from my house.  Who in turn looked like he was in shock.

That looks like David, I thought to myself.

I tried to get a better look at him as I drove by yet, he turned his head as far away from me as he could.  Hours later I am in a someone’s backyard drinking and talking with this white-haired old man who suddenly asks me to have lunch with him.  As much as I was enjoying the conversation, I was not about to lead this old man on.  I did not want him to believe I was after him for his money.  Isn’t that usually what happens?  An old man with money seeks out a younger woman to show-off his success?  It is what I thought at the time.

After midnight, a sort of contest started between this old man and a young kid (he was probably in his twenties which makes him a kid when you are twenty years older than him) about who was going to take me home – in a manner of speaking.  I don’t think like a man, so I had no idea what was going on at the time.

This kid was no match for me because I would have won every single argument or conversation.  It wasn’t even worth my time to show teacher how uninteresting it is to watch me rule over a man.  I was light years smarter, more intellectual, had more experience, more ideas, thoughts about how the world should be, I could go on and on – I think you get my point.

I hope you get the idea.

One, was not a match because he was too old, not how I wanted to spend my time.  As an old man’s way of getting back at the world, and making himself feel better.  The kid was not a match or interesting because I would have been the one to make every decision, and probably pay for everything too – story of my life.  Do you know how many men have used me for free food and drink?!  It is so depressing.

Somewhere in the middle of the evening, I took a picture.  A quick snap from my phone with my friends on either side of me.  Here I am, deflecting my good looks in a self-deprecating way, playing down what could be perceived as intimidating beauty, I stuck my tongue out to the side with playful innocence, and looking out of my eyes to speak flirtatious fun.

Months and months afterwards, I signed up with an on-line site hoping to find a man to love who would love me in return.  I used that New Year’s Eve photograph in my profile because it was such a great photo of me.  Wish I still had it.  However, in the background of the photo, sitting down is that old man.  That old man stuck his head in my photo.  Why did that old man stick his head in my photograph?  I cropped out the old man sitting down with the Maryland crab artwork on the wall.

Before arriving at that New Year’s Eve party, I got the signal from the go-ahead letting me know I was not alone which colors everything for me.  My perception, my feelings, my mood.  It changes things that I do not understand in each exact moment.

Here I am five years later, I still do not understand why David Wolfe stuck his head in my photograph.

 

December 31, 2017

This is what I was thinking, Coffee and Breakfast will be one of my regular postings.  I will write in food to share my thoughts, for those like me who are at present unable to create their own diet, meal plans, dining experience, menu, or grocery list, and are simply missing the joy of food, breaking bread, and sharing it with loved ones, family, and friends.

This is not a special New Year’s Eve for me, this morning all I can manage is water.  A pitcher of ice-cold water, and nothing else.  My bad belly feels like a medicine ball has been lodged where my intestines should be, my whole body is bloated and swollen, so I am miserable.  I want to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my face, and just die.  I am so miserable.  I can’t even manage coffee today.  It is a bad, bad, bad, day for me.

Do not even get me started on my underwear situation.  You will hear more from me later on the matter.  I mention it only to get it out, so that it is known how miserable I am.

Perhaps another day I will feel better, more like my old self again, and not like some caricature of someone else’s idea of a character that does not even resemble me in any way shape or form, and I will be able to give of myself through writing in food.

Unfortunately, I cannot give you anything more today.

I hope everyone else will be able to celebrate New Year’s with a kiss, I will not.  Just like every year anymore.  It’s been decades since I’ve had a man to kiss.  How depressing.  For a woman like me forced to live the rest of her life alone.  How long can that last?  Of course my opinions have changed about people given that fact.

Here I am eyes swollen shut, and miserable because it is more important to have my house clean before I leave for work.  Why?  Because of those fucking trolls!

Will another set of locks help?  How many do I have to go through?

Will another job help?  Is that what will keep the fucking trolls away?

So unhappy.

Drinking left-over coffee, dried-out taste-less baked items for breakfast because I have to hurry up before the trolls get here.

Oh yeah, and more bad dreams.

Will someone please keep these trolls away from me, and out of my life for good!

Here’s hoping everyone else is having a better day, time, life, and food than I am.

July 6, 2017, July 7, 2017, July 8, 2017

To J                           ,

This is a little FYI, it is not important to me to keep the same people (character’s) around me.  I know that none of it is real it is not in me to pretend to talk to people as there is no way to make a connection or create relationships.

I believe it is completely unfair to not allow me to get another          , or to end this.  I am sick and tired of being used as a science experiment.

I want James Franco denied all access to me.  He can never make up for the harm he’s caused me, or others have caused in his name.

You know something has to be done – I do not enjoy not being able to have my own freedom of choice.  Instead of working around my choices of purchases items are placed in front of me which pressure me into a purchase I would not normally make for financial reason, or because I feel like eating, or wanting something different.  It is not fair to me.  And, I am fed up with not being allowed to choose for myself without any repercussions!!

Do you know how organized I used to be?!  I didn’t used to have to even think about it, I just knew the answer.  I knew in my head.  I didn’t have to search through hours and hours of paperwork to get order back again.

Am I not allowed to ever have          red or otherwise ever again?

I am at an end.  Because of the faucets and what happened to my hands.  Because you allowed me to brush my teeth therefore ingesting that into my system I no longer wish to continue.  That breech in security has caused an absolute shut-down in my brain and mind.  I am so depressed.  I am so disgusted.

Do you know how I know this is in no way about love?  If you love someone you let them go.  I have written this before because this has been shoved in my face so many times before.  I was happy for David Wolfe and his love and happiness.  Because even if it came at the expense of my own heart break as long as he was happy, I was happy for him.  But, the real truth is I was never in love with him.  There is a difference.  I keep repeating it because it has been repeated over and over to me…1, 2, 3 for going on three years now.  How unfair it is to me to not be able to make new friends, or memories while everyone else gets to live their life.

So unhappy.

Going through all the bankruptcy stuff it is so hurtful realizing how people have lied to me and for so long.  Telling me                  I didn’t have to worry about bankruptcy or paying my bills because it was going to end soon and I wouldn’t have to worry about money then.  That went on               for a while.

I am so devastated by the events and security breach of the faucets, I do not want to continue.  I do not want to write anymore.  I know you do not like to hear this, however it is the truth.  I would rather kill myself than to continue living like this.  I do not have the mental ability to now find a doctor to figure out what is growing underneath my skin, on top of the bankruptcy, on top of all the lies about my mother’s death, on top of all the misdirection and miscommunication.

The toll this has taken in my body is tremendous.  If it ended today I wouldn’t get out of my bed for months.

I’m spent mind, body, and soul.

So here I trying to tell you everything before I have to rush out the door – not looking like myself at all – and it is impossible to get it all done and live at the same time.

I am gonna forget things I want to tell you for clarification and whatnot in the process.

They should have been kept me at The Container Store if people wanted to talk and interact with me, then at TCS I was surrounded by products I enjoyed, employees who cared about each other.                   Because I felt I was doing something worthwhile when I worked there.  I have never felt that since.

Because of the faucet situation I feel compelled to no longer wear my Reebok shoes.  They have taken on a meaning that I do not subscribe to and have never subscribed to.  Plus, I am so disturbed by the violation of trust; I feel my shoes along with wanting to share thanks, gratitude, and what I see in people ended.  It shut a door in my heart, and I’ve locked it for my protection.

The dressing of me and connecting to purchases such as gas, garbage, and so forth is oppressive!  It is asinine.  It has stifled any form of creative expression I would ever be able to make.  Because somewhere along the lines someone allowed a person to have control over my life and force me to only have one option and if I did not do otherwise, I was penalized, punished, and humiliated.

I want my life back.

Cherith J Gjestland

PS The reason I did not have the H&D coffee was due to the           on the paper packaging.  Now, my             coffee is ruined since I went to the mailbox it no longer has any flavor.  – Fucker!

I apologize that I do not have more to offer on this one, but it is simply too long ago already that I do not have much more to go on.  Also, the fact that I was misdirected into my movies and theater had an effect on my viewing of the film.

In case that was too sublte, knock it the fuck off!  Stop allowing others to play dirty!  It is ruining everything for everyone – fucking cowards!

I do appreciate the sharing and exposure of the deaf world to the hearing world.  There is not enough done, in my opinion, to expose the world and audiences to others, to people of different cultures rather than what is fashionable, chic, trendy, or popular.

Also, I have great appreciation for what it feels like personally, as well as, from others I have known, to be unheard, misunderstood, and/or unable to communicate.  It is a terrible pain to not be heard, or able to communicate.  Brother, let me tell you.

You will probably find this hard to believe, but casting Millicent Simmonds was a lucky find for everyone.  It is a tenuous task to go from the deaf world to the hearing world.  It is very difficult to show and express which she did quite well.

I apologize I do not have more to give you other than that at this time.  For, I cannot see more in my head, I cannot see it in my head any more than that.

I am sure some people wanted more than this, but I cannot give any more than I already am.

In watching The Darkest Hour I was expecting to take away two – please, do me a great service and do not get hung up on the number – certainties.  I knew I was going to enjoy Joe Wright.  I knew I was going to enjoy Gary Oldman.  How much and the extent of my enjoyment was entirely left up to them and what they put on the screen.

It’s a shame – for me – that I was not able to write this when it was fresh in my mind.  I am only human, even if others disagree with me and believe I have super human powers.  The truth is I do not, for I break all the time.  I live in a constant state of delirious sleep-deprivation not to mention actual relaxation, and un-plugging of my brain.  A lot of what I was going to write about Joe Wright is gone at the moment.  I am sorry, Joe Wright.  I cannot offer more at this time.  There is only so much I can do and retain.

I want to mention this too, I am writing this one first because of what Joe Wright and Gary Oldman gave me in viewing the film.  If for any reason there is any debate, or contest between the movies I write about.  I chose to look beyond the smoking cigar and watched the performance.  I am an extremely demanding audience.  I am probably the worst audience a director, actor, producer, or anyone in the movie industry would want in the theater.

See, I knew I was going to enjoy Joe Wright because I have seen Pride and Prejudice more than once.  I believe it to be one of the most different of the Pride and Prejudice’s.  From the moment – No, I stopped myself just now, I was about to go on about Pride and Prejudice, but that is another movie.  I don’t want to take anything away The Darkest Hour.

Joe Wright has an eye for beautiful.  He creates it in every film.  He creates moments in every film he makes.  The running across the screen cut-aways – fantastic – it is a movie in itself.  It is complete.  It needs no beginning, no end, it exists on its own.  Audibly fantastic.

Looking up from his computer screen, other than being a darker version of himself, I have no idea what else he looked like, for I did not see him as the altered version of himself trying to blend in with my surroundings.  I saw beyond him.  I saw him as he was, in that moment looking at me, before the actor took over and started working.  Gary Oldman looked at me from the corner of his eye with an almost timid curiosity, is this going to work, how is this going to work, is she going to recognize me, what will she think of me?

You are going to hear this from me more often, perhaps to the great begrudging of others as I am constantly asked for words to define the moment, or a person, or a place, etc.  Although some things defy words, can only be felt, and experienced.  It was the briefest of glances.  But, I saw him and knew him in that moment.  However, as not much has changed since then, I was miserable.  So, my experience, the experience of seeing others is controlled by how little I enjoy my present.  But, do not forget or mistake me, I saw him, and I knew him.

What fun!  I exclaimed this over and over while watching Gary Oldman in The Darkest Hour.

I will say this first because it is one of the first thing I noticed about Gary Oldman as Winston Churchill.  He must have loved and hated the experience.  I could be wrong, and that is ok.  However, what I saw was the joy of being able to portray a character.  I saw the love and enjoyment he had for being a character.  I knew this from watching him in other films because is there anything that Gary Oldman cannot act in?  Nope.  He is one of those great actors with ego he takes to the stage, then sheds his ego for the character.  I love it.  It is very rare.

He loved it, to be able to play such a character, and hated it for the bodily form he had to endure to play Winston Churchill.  It must have been annoying and wearisome to be burdened with a heavy body – it is what I saw.

Being able to wipe the floor with someone.

This is what I say when I know with such certainty that there is no one greater than me in the room.  I know what it feels like to be in front of an audience, or crowd, and perform, or audition knowing that no one is looking at anyone else other than me.  To command complete attention.  To fill the entire room with my presence.  So, I know it when I see it in others, and I have seen other actors just wipe the floor with another actor.  We all have.

Here is Gary Oldman in front of the camera, delivering a performance unlike any other.  Yet, the best – for me – was not that he could wipe the floor with any of his fellow actors.  Because he could have.  He could have wiped the floor with any of them.  The best part was watching Gary Oldman egging on his fellow actors, come on!  Match me!  Be here with me in this moment!  Egging them on and cheering for them in the same moment!  Fantastic!  Scene after scene!  Do you have any idea how fucking rare that is for an actor to purge ego for the greater good of the film, project, character, and audience?!  I fucking do!

It was fucking fantastic to witness and watch!  A battle not to compete, but to perform.

So, here is the thing.  I have had this idea of writing film appreciations for more than a decade.  Since, at the moment, it is killing me to write I am uncertain how much more I want to watch and write about.  If, however, I do continue to watch and write – be prepared.  For I want it all on the screen.  I want everything an actor, director, writer, producer, every single person on the crew has to give, and then I want some fucking more.  Do not let me see a cheapened, hollowed-out, imitation, or copy of a person, or character.  I want all your blood, sweat, pain and agony, defeat, your tears, your burden, your joy, your sweet and simple, your fucking disgusting, your rage and compassion.  Do not chicken-out on me.  I want the expanse of your universe shoved down into that deepest well of truth we all have and hold onto, shove it down, then given with precision and purpose.

For I will take nothing less.