Saturday, May 14, 2011

impressions and things

I've had several things lately--all things I think I can share. Some things are not "pleasant" with regard to others, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't share.

Other things are just recollections of dreams and thoughts.

I guess, since I'm starting out my morning this way, with reflections, before hopefully doing more important work later...I'll talk about my music choice.

Last night I had so many songs come to mind before sleep. Bare Necessities, and I don't know if they do it this way, but I sang part of it in buzzes, after singing the "bees are buzzing in the trees, making honey just for me" and then got the idea to sing it like a kazoo.

During worship this boy played guitar and the song that got me before we even got to the chorus was one about "Show me your glory".

This morning I put on portishead's "Glory Box" and wanted to hear this one sort of new punk group but I'll go to it later.
***************************************
Last night I had a dream that Knoxville was very small with no skyscrapers and that I wouldn't like it. However, it was just a dream and I don't think it is true. I've seen photos and it's larger than that.

The night before, I was at a place I've been before in my dreams. I recognized it in my dream and upon waking too. But in this dream, it wasn't the house of someone else, but my brother's house. In the dream, the night before last night, I decided to take refuge and start some kind of organizing force or group and decided to move into my brother's house. In the dream he owned the house and his girlfriend has moved out and there was one other man there. It was at the back of a road, all kinds of trees and things but then off down a dirt or gravel road and you had to drive or ride a bike to get to it because there was no bus. There was some kind of dumpster at the very end. His girlfriend had been living there, in the dream, and when she left, he let things stack up and I went through and was cleaning and organizing things. This other man was in the background and there and we were talking about what we were going to do. Then, the main part I remember was that I found some kind of beads or necklace behind the couch. No, at first it was a string of christmas lights. Then it was suddenly this string of beads and I cut one end and as I cut it, I was taking off all the beads and they fell into my hand and then I thought, "These should be saved for making jewelry later". Then I started finding string after string of necklaces that I had lost or had been stolen from me, and ones that I had saved to restring someday. I found some of my old pearl necklaces, and I was taking all the pearls and beads off and then I woke up.
************************
I asked some questions about a few individuals recently and felt I got answers to some things. These are the things that are not pleasant. I'll just share 2 of them right now. I asked about Michael Middleton. I asked, because while it may not have anything to do with him immediately, I had strong confirmation that people backing the Middletons had comitted murders and torture. I didn't get very much. I only got a small piece. It was from scripture leading, mainly, and I think it could be questioned, but what I got was that he was someone who ignored those in trouble and was self-centered on himself and his family and their immediate interests. It was that he was very materialistic and self-absorbed or centered and as for the plight of struggling or tortured or less fortunate, his attitude was, "it's not my problem." This to me, made me think this was maybe not just a family that had a "safe" daughter (non-activist) for the royal family or Establishment, but also had others who were "safe" in the sense that they could be counted upon to think only of themselves and not "meddle" in other affairs. As part of the working class, he was not going to assist the working class. They are social climbers and will do what is required to remain in the good graces of those who could further their own family and other interested groups. They are political, or there wouldn't have been murders and torture. But those who wanted them there are doing the politicking on their behalf. I got a scripture verse for his philosophy and it was--let me find it. It was from the Old Testament. I just looked, and will have to look again later. It was about a man turning his head aside to the plight of others and saying he is satisfied with his own lot and saying it's not his problem and they should do more for themselves. When I find it I'll publish the verse. I have never read one single thing about him in my whole life. I have read his name or heard it, and something about being an air attendant once and that's it. I have never heard or read anything about him and I've never done a search on him either. I don't plan to look him up, now, either.

The other person I asked about was this psychic woman whom I have already named and mentioned: "Kathy Bussy". She is gifted, but I believe she's also not a christian as she claims to be. She's done some things that indicate she uses her gifts for the machinations of others who might even have higher positions. I was staring at her in chapel yesterday and finally asked God to show me something. I got two different verses about deceipt. That were about a person who was deceitful. Which actually sort of lines up to something I had been wondering about because when I first met her she said one of her parents was from the Caribbean (5 months ago) and more recently she left this out, and when I asked about the Caribbean, she denied it. When she denied it more recently I wondered why. Because some parts of the Caribbean are under British rule?

One verse I sort of got about her and those she might associate with is found in Jeremiah 8:19, about being given over to foreign idols and being an unfaithful people. Making their tongues ready to shoot lies. About "every brother a deceiver" and "every friend a slanderer" "they have taught their tongues to lie and "you live in the midst of deception, in their deceit they refuse to acknowledge me". The other verse was about the "anti-christ" and how an angel will seize the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a 1,000 years...and throws out the key and locks and seals to keep him from "Deceiving the nations". What I got in scriputure matches what I've seen from her. She looks and appears to be a very strong and free-spirited christian and she talks the right talk, but something is wrong with her and I also know she has tried to work against me. When I slept next to her she would, for example, one day try to harass me with one thing by putting things out in front of me and then the next day making a spread of Kate & William news with interlocked bejeweled bracelets on her bed next to the article and then she would leave it there like that and put her head on it and smile. This was before the wedding. I mean, she did some weird things and I don't deny she has some kind of gift but she is also malignant. And I will tell you what--she has always said she was "protestant" and that she goes to some non-denominational christian church and she knows a lot of the "right" answers. I asked her one time, "How does one determine whether someone is a false prophet or not?" and of all things she said, "They will not lie." She also rocks back and forth in church with a big smile on her face, and really "looks" like she is worshipping God. By all "appearances" she is an innocent type. It's not as though I picked her out because I thought she was "catholic". I don't think I can believe anything she tells me, now, but I know this--she has worked against me, in concert with others. One of her friends is another woman I've mentioned who does psychic work: Anna Cruz. There are a few others. But they were doing all kinds of things to ensure the wedding moved along as planned.

In the meantime, on the other side of the nation, my son and my family were being tortured and intimidated and trying not to cry for several weeks up until the wedding, and claiming "nothing is wrong" when I knew they were being forced to lie.

I was being tortured and psycho-analysed at work with coworkers that had Vatican and other connections. Sometime I'll write more. It is not possible for anyone who has a psychic gift to know my son and I have been tortured, just because they have a gift. Not everyone will know or have this ability. But some do, and have concealed the truth, even when they have known what the truth is.
**********************************
Other things...Last night before the message in chapel I had a lot of verses come to me about oil.
***************
I love this song. By the Heartbeats, "The Knife" from "Deep Cuts". I put on "Bjork" and have had a lot of interesting songs this morning. I like this last one I mentioned, as something to dance to. I also loved "Play Dead" by Bjork and "Frosti"--frosti for the instrumentals as summing up what icicles and snow are like, sparkling in the sunlight and making that sound. It's mostly a snow song. More snow than icicles. She is describing the snow in the sunlight, I think, or that is what I think of. Icicles would sound differently, there would be some musical description of the way they harden in the cold and keep form, or of the way they melt on a sunny or warming day. The sunlight would play off of them in a different musical effect as well, with bright sparks here and there as they capture the sun like a prism or mirror and then shoot forth a ray of light. They might have some kind of a blurry tone if capturing the landscape around them. The way she plays the music for frosti is light and the music sparkles in small fragments just as it's caught and twinkles back the sun like glitter. Whether packed or softly fallen, or even caught breath in the air, it's different. It made me think of how I wanted to sing with a bees effect, buzzing effect, for part of a song. So many ways to paint a song. Music and art are very intertwined for me. I see art when I hear music and I hear music when I see art. When I see art I feel like writing poetry or eating good food. When I see science I see art too. Things in the natural or supernatural world are of course, things that inspire art. Which is why there are sometimes even odd dynamics and beauty in even photos of catastrophes. Sometimes just the balance of fallen and flooded buildings is beautiful or the way trash may end up bumping up against trash makes something of a knock-out. Which is sort of why I have liked some things by Alexander McQueen. A few days ago, on the same day that I saw a television episode about his dresses and collections, I came across "brutalist" architectural design online. I thought, "They are alike." For whatever reason, they both used words like "brutalist" or "savage" to describe what they created, and they had the same idea. I ended up reading about brutalist architecture completely separate from McQueen. I didn't do a search about him at all. I was onto some totally different idea and then I found a connection or symmetry in the styles and ideas and made a nice conclusion that they were of the same genre.

As for Middletons' dress, I guess it was by his designers, the show said, but it looked nothing like McQueen. It looked like his other coworker's idea and I never would have thought it was McQueen. When I saw it on a magazine stand, I thought, "That looks like my mother's wedding dress." It was the same as my mom's wedding dress and headpiece. Which was weird. After my talk about how Middleton had been wearing a skirt that I wore which had belonged to my mother, I thought it was very strange that the Middleton family decided to create and pay for a wedding dress for their daughter that was a copy of my mom's wedding dress.

Personally, if it had been me, I would go for sleek. It's fitting for something "royal" to have this ballooning skirt, but I would have wanted something victorious. By this, I mean, speaking of justice and reflective of my ideals of hope and justice and triumph of good over evil.

I would have wanted something sleek and elongated, elegant and sophisticated and with laurel adorning everything. And combining nature with old and ancient traditions and buildings.

And now I'm sensing a sad vibe from someone, somewhere, so I guess I'll quit talking about that. I did like the neckline of the dress, in a sharp 'v' which was basically like the black dress with the 'v' that I picked out for myself and wore in D.C. There was sort of a twin idea there too. I'm not really sure who the wedding was for or about but I don't get the feeling it was all about middleton. Which is odd.

I guess since I'm on a fashion/art/architecture track (which I didn't plan at all) I'll write what I thought about the outfits at least. I didn't watch it and don't look at magazines but I have seen one or two photos in passing.

I think what William wore was perfect. I don't think I have ever seen him in red before, and in the early morning photos of him waiting, before going to the church, I thought it flattered his complexion and I was shocked to see that he looked good in red. The only hint I had of the wedding was an impression I had of this color, when I asked God to show me something small, just one thing. I didn't ask about the dress, or anything. I asked what he was wearing and I saw red. Oh YES my dear, did I ever. (haha, okay, just joking a little there). But I really did and I doubted myself because I thought, how in the world could he be wearing THAT color for a wedding and it didn't seem very "wedding-like". So I dismised my thought and thought I must be wrong. But I did see red and I also had this phrase come to mind, "Red is good", the sum of something I had read about how Russia loves red and says "red is "good". So later when I saw this red color, that phrase came to mind. I also thought about that magazine cover where Diana wears a red dress and just looks amazing. When I saw her dress, in photos later, I immediately thought it was my mom's dress. My mother wore a veil like that, and her dress was simple and long sleeved and puffed skirt and covered in white lace. I guess I thought it was nice to be more simple. I guess, thinking about it now, it also resembled my white lace dance dress except mine had gloves and was sleeveless.

With Diana's dress, it was out there but it was culmination of the 80s and a fairytale. So it was spectacular but fine for the event and for her. Sarah's I liked for the satin that was used. I don't think it was silk, but it had almost the sheen of fine silk. I liked the color and quality of the satin. With Kate's dress, it was probably the right counter-balance to his uniform. He had this small hint of white in places on his uniform, which tied in with her dress. He really stole the show, if you ask me. (You Carnie You). Then, of all things--Harry was wearing my underwear. My underwear was black with yellow trim and had torn and was at one angle, just in time for the grand occasion. Of all things, he was wearing a frickin' uniform that was asymmetrical and had yellow stripes to one side. It matched the exact line of my underwear and I wondered who in the world had put him up to it. Here Harry, and you have to wear the bumblebee suit that matches Cameo Garrett's underwear. Harry looked quiet and sheepish anytime I saw a photo.

I could have mailed him my underwear for his head, but I flushed it on the same day. I thought, "I cannot believe he is wearing my underwear." And as my underwear were falling apart, I tore them up and flushed them down the toilet so no one could take them as a souveneer out of the trash. Let me describe why I thought "He is wearing my underwear." Imagine this...The material was black and then it had a border of yellow which looked like a string of yellow. So there was this yellow strip at the top and then on the border. I have no idea how this happened, but a few weeks before the wedding, the black material started to tear on it's own. I did not tear it. Besides, why in the world would I tear my own underwear when I only had 2 pairs? It just started to come undone on only one side. Like the threads were coming out on that one side. I kept thinking, "I have to buy some new underwear." At first it was just a small corner tear and then, by the day of the wedding I was shocked to find it was so torn that the entire side had come undone and was flapped over to one side and turned over like that, it was black. So I had these little bright yellow lines or strips, and then the front of my underwear had torn or come undone on it's own to be flapped over to one side. It was this weird black and yellow asymmetrical thing. So when I saw Harry's photo later that day my eyes bugged out. "He is wearing my underwear." And I then tore it and flushed it because I figured it had served its purpose at that point. I tried to tear it into a bunch of pieces but the cotton came out and then the rest, the yellow part, just ended up in a large circle. When I saw it was a circle, I thought it would be wrong to tear it again so I left it and flushed it that way. I deeeeddn't brAKE deee cIRcle (just kidding).

No one saw my underwear like that either. Not unless someone had been photographing or videotaping me without my knowledge and consent. Not even one woman saw it. I was the only person who saw this happening and who knew. I changed in bathrooms and never in front of others. I may have torn one side part off, but it was a g-string so this is how it ended up with a full circle. It really sounds ridiculous but if I were able to sketch it it would be very convincing. I am not kidding, and it was nuts to think what I thought, because it was the exact same thing as Harry's uniform. I think I decided to toss them after I had bloodied the towel on accident and they were bloody, and I just thought, "This is not something to keep for others to see." I couldn't throw them into the trash and they were only covering half of my front part, forming a triangle on the one side. Hmmm, what side was still there? I guess it was the right side. They somehow started coming undone on the left side and little threads were pulling out and it had to be from rubbing against my jeans or something. I was left with this triangular flap starting at the center and covering the right side (my right). I actually never thought about what side Harry's design was on. Never thought about it until now. So I had this zigzagging of bright yellow and with the front flapped over, black triangle. tres bizarro. I guess I know it's "tres bizarre" but I want to add bizarro.

Then of all things, I bloodied a towel on the same day. "Something is very wrong here. What am I? the virginal blood for the white towel?" At the same time Kate Middleton was saying I do's in a white lace wedding dress with a white veil on her head, I was wearing a white towel around my body at the gym and a white towel on top of my head. I came around the corner that way, to grab another towel and heard "AMEN" and see the Queen taking a bow. And that was it. I laid in the sauna thinking about how bizarre this was.

After lying in the sauna, I was changing and that's when I saw the 2 large red spots of blood on the towel and above a v angle. And I threw it in the hamper and someone made a big deal about it and after it was out for all, I just wrote about it. I've never bloodied a towel before but it happened and then all these jokes were made about it. Having someone make a big deal about my towel is exactly why I will never throw out my underwear into a garbage can but will only destroy them first. I took even my server notes home with me because I didn't like the feeling that people were taking my notes for writing samples.

Anyway, I sent back to my black rose lace underwear on that same day. I had 2 prs. Which sounds terrible and is not normal for me of course, but I've been tortured, my son tortured, my family blackmailed and traumatized, and then I've had everything stolen from me while people try to "get to" me. I just washed them out everyday by hand or in the shower, but in the time that I worked, I bought nothing for myself aside from shampoo and a little make up. Nothing else. I spent money on gifts for my son, paying for passport, bills, and other things. And I have basically nothing left.

The entire time, I was tortured.

And they delightfully fired me, after using me and tormenting me, and keeping me from getting to anything normal, on William and Kate's Wedding Day, April 29th, as a present to...

?

They specifically withheld firing me until the special day. Literally, they told me to come back (3 or so days later), "On Friday, April 29th", so they could fire me on that day, after William and Kate were married.

There are so many crooked and criminal people, I really do understand that it might be impossible to ever know what happened to Diana. The things that have been done to me are proof enough. You get enough doctors, religious, military, and intel with their groups, working against you and anyone can cover anything up. I've been kept down and made out to be a totally different person than I am and then had horrible reactions, but in what CONTEXT does anyone measure how I am acting, or what I say or write or think when I am tortured and harassed on a monumental level?
**********************************
I got up this morning and thought, "Today is your day as a victim and survivor of torture. Keep it real." Last night in chapel I thought, and wrote down how I am to keep this real to myself and make it part of my reality. Because one thing that I have allowed myself to become separated from, is gross reality of torture of me and my son. Being a victim of torture has become an almost "out of body" experience. Being degraded even, has been something I just deal with now. Since I've been sitting here typing I've had someone, a few times, use something while I am here. And I believe it's the hispanic employees who have had the most access to the areas close to me.

Everything I do and say from this point on, must be focused on the torture of me and my son. I mean, my everyday reality is that of a victim of torture. My son has been brutalized and tortured. My duty is to be faithful to the truth and to stop ignoring each instance as if it's normal and commonplace and just something for me to live with.

It is my duty to assert my rights and talk about who has degraded me or my son. It is my duty to represent other victims and survivors of torture. It is my duty to not ignore this or put it to the side as if it's just something to accept.

I have been so beat down, I got to the point where I just ignored or refused to talk about what was still happening, and quit affirming what originally happened to me and my son.

Someone wanted me to pick up my check from work yesterday and there was no way I was going back there. I asked them to mail it to me.

It is my responsibility to make sure an investigation is done to apprehend those who have tortured both me and my son. It is not just a right, but my responsibility.

If my rights are not recognized in this country, I will go to another country at that point, and ask for their assistance in putting together a report and claim against the U.S. for failure to protect me and my son and for allowing public corruption to replace justice.

There must be an investigation for me to stay here.

If there is no investigation, there is absolutely no point.

I fled this country, because of torture. I have been beat down by people who were able to do the most incredible and unbelievable things. I have lost time, money, and my talent, in this country.

I EXPECT someone to investigate.

I also expect to be believed.

I have the right to have my report, claims, and timeline investigated and the right to have my testimony believed, and be believed as mentally normal person who has been tortured.

And medicated without my consent, by the way.

I am still showing zero evidence of normal hair growth, and this means that I am still under the effect of medications that have doped me up and altered my energy levels, my ability to focus, and my horomone levels.

I started to get upset about things that were happening, right before the wedding and some British and U.S. persons doped me up and then "Thanked God" about it. After they doped me up, my entire body reacted.

I wonder who the Colombian woman and English man were, that got married the same day I went to have a license signed with my Colombian ex? The English man didn't like me.
******************************************************
Back after having lunch.

Put on Bjork into genre selection again and got "The Hunter" (which I love!) "I thought I could organize freedom/how scandanavian of me!"

Ahhh! I am not the only one smiling!!!! 1:17 p.m. I like every part of the lyrics.

HUNTER

If travel is searching
and home has been found

i'm not stopping

i'm going hunting
i'm the hunter
i'll bring back the goods
but i don't know when

Thought that I could organise freedom
how scandanavian of me!
you sussed it out, didn't you?

you could smell it,
so you left me on my own
to complete the mission
now I'm leaving it all behind

I'm going hunting
i'm the hunter

(you just didn't know me!)

(you just didn't know me!)
*********
I like Radiohead too. some of the shifts in the music are interesting. It's all the same and then there might be this one interesting jump. Lyrics are decent too. i like 6 underground too, by sneaker pimps.
*******************
Yesterday when I curling my hair in the morning, I sang some psalms. Psalm 76 several times, and psalm 20. They were the ones I had turned to randomly and just went with shorter ones. At some point, at the end, I had the impression of someone playing violin as I sang. I'm sure it was my imagination, but I read the psalm was for stringed instruments and then as I sang (impromtu), I began to hear violin, 1 violin, playing with me at the same time. I wondered what it was, I was trying to discern what stringed instrument it was and it was violin. I don't know what that was. I thought it was my imagination at first, but if so, why did I have to ask which kind of instrument it was first? I had to stop and listen more carefully and it was violin.

sudden wave of someone wanting to cry--1:31 p.m. and Bjork's song "unravel". then there was this cool song by a man but I can't find it...trying to find it. I liked everything about it,and then "ingenue" by? right now it's telling me to sign in but it's still playing and I can't see whot he artists are.
*************
I was thinking, I wonder if this is what my great-uncle talked about...my Uncle Howard, the pilot who was a test-pilot at Boeing in Seattle, WA. My Aunt Mary wrote to me that he told her and others how he "heard beautiful music while flying". He wasn't delusional. Some people really can "hear" things and it's not paranoid schitz--it's an artistic gift. I wonder if it was some kind of mozart-type of effect, like that of composers, when they suddenly "hear music" and then write it down. Because also, my Uncle Howard was a child of Lebious Garrett, the man who was the musical genius (at least one them) in the family. All the sisters played for silent movies in the symphony and for other things and Lebious was the one who taught violin and instruments at University level, in a University in Virginia or W.Virginia, when he only had an 8th grade education. He was a bona fide genius. He's the one who is rumored to have fathered another family, squirreled away somewhere in Pennsylvania I think. I might have relatives I've never met and they are probably musically inclined. They might know they have a connection to the name "Garrett" and indirectly to the "Howards".

But yeah, I really did hear someone begin to play along with me and I heard how the strings were being played but I don't know how to write music. I don't know music theory. And I thought about it and realized it was just 1 violin and it was violin, not guitar, cello, viola or anything. It was violin.

I just looked up the Psalms to find out which one it was and it was to Psalm 76. I was just now curious about who Asaph is so I looked up Asaph. I sang the first one in a more solemn manner and then Psalms 20 in a lighter, more joyful way. And it's a blessing song with "May you be ____" and on and on so it's meant to be that way.
***************
So anyway, when I got something about "oil" in chapel yesterday, it was first from the parable of "The Widows Oil". She was broke and asked the prophet Elias what to do. He told her to go out to the neighborhood and ask for as many jars and vessels as they could spare. So she did. Then from her oil reservoir he told her to pour and when she did, the oil miraculously multiplied and she filled all of the jars and vessels and still had oil leftover. So he told her to then take this and sell it to be able to feed her family. A prophet cared this much about woman who became a single mother. Then I came upon something about making a sacrifice or offering to the Lord and something about "a hin of oil". Oil was given as an offering not as a form of sacrifice for sin. It was more of a goodwill offering. Anyway, I kept coming across passages about oil.

And then, I prayed for healing and the ability of people to be able to believe in the healer and the balm of gilead. And I said a very short prayer about this and then it so-happened that this is what the sermon was about last night. It was that God heals and the man gave a testimony of a healing that happened to him personally.
************************
OH MY WORD.

I was looking back at what I wrote about Harry's uniform looking like my underwear and I thought, "I never got a very good look at what he was wearing and what side his yellow decoration was on."

So I just looked and burst out laughing out loud in the library.

It's on the right side, and it looks like someone decorated his arm and chest with my underwear.

I typed in "harry's photo, william's wedding" and the one I saw, where I saw him for the first time, facing fully forward, is from "santabanta". http://www.santabanta.com/. I don't want to look at the photos but I had to see this one. Anyway.
**********************
I really enjoyed the music from the bjork genre but I then switched to jennifer knapp. I need to get some work done. I might switch back to it though because I was getting to hear some very good music and I sense a sadness right now and don't know what's wrong (3:15 p.m.).

I guess the last things I'll add was that I had something come to mind about someone while at chapel. Oh, and the other day I was talking to this one woman and it was the first time I talked to her and I said, "Can I ask if you've been hiking in a foreign country?" and she stopped and then said yes and I asked where and she said Korea. Because, as she was talking to me, I started seeing her hiking somewhere and then I asked if it was very green in Korea and she said yes and I nodded. That's the only place she's been to I guess, but I sort of wondered if she'd been hiking on some more rocky or brown countryside too. And for some random reason Australia came to my mind but she's only been to Korea. I didn't bother to ask about Australia. She was in Korea while her husband was in the military.

Then I was last night thinking about something and I had the word "furlough" come to mind. Something about a furlough and I couldn't remember what a furlough is. Some kind of break or vacation but I don't remember in what context. I got "furlough", this word all on its own at the beginning of chapel, at around 6:45 p.m. or so.
************************************
Then I go to CNN for news today and there is some woman featured with a cello and about her OCD. "Obsessive Compulsive Behavior". I think it's great to feature things like this, and about others who have gone through things, but for the record, that is not me.

I'm sorry to say that I and my son were tortured. PERIOD.

Anyone who then tried to cover this up wanted to say I was mentally ill.

I see large People magazine stories about Catherine Zeta-Jones and she is one of the most outstanding and beautiful women out there. She says she has bipolar disorder.

I see examples of amazing people who also struggle with illnesses, ALL THE TIME.

There is no shame in mental illness and it's very GOOD that people like Zeta-Jones come out about it because it really does help with the stigma.

But there is also NO shame in

being a torture victim and survivor.

I am tired of public officials and criminals who are corrupt, defaming me to anyone who will give them an ear, that I am mentally ill.

If I am unemployed, I am bored and therefore I write more. I have written my entire life and been creative and artistic my entire life.

My main problem has been in recognizing and accepting the fact that I am a victim of TORTURE, real literal torture, and a number of other crimes, and not allowing others to tell me to quit saying this or they will throw me in the nuthouse, or they will take my kid away.

The State of Washington tried to claim, after attempting to cover their own DIRTY and illegal deals, to say I was mentally ill and that there was no chance for progress because I did not recognize or have insight into "her illness".

I don't have an illness.

I have a problem with serious public corruption and if I do not get justice for me and my son in the United States and an investigation of crime and torture and collusion to do these things, I will leave this country.

I look at the people who have accused me of having mental illness and how they have tried to ruin me. All of them have connections with either
1. military,
2. catholic church,
3. jewish faith

If they are Protestant, I have discovered, time and again, that they are directly linked to U.S. military. Michelle, the social worker--directly connected to U.S. military and admitted this in trial. My lawyer, Justin Titus, with the catholic law firm, but claiming to be Jewish and then claiming he never said this (not true)--directly connected to the U.S. Department of Defense and the catholic church.

Most of the people who have really done a lot of harm and have the most to cover up, have been catholic. I mean, over and over and over a long period of time too.

I have had people, just today, use military technology on me while I was typing away about other things I've blogged about. I can't keep track of all these people.

The U.S. has a major problem and my family has a major problem.

My aunt and uncle do not do whatever they want to do. They have State workers and corrupt police and gangsters that work with the corrupt government and law enforcement, telling them what to do, or threatening to take my son out of the family entirely.

My family has no hope aside from me. I am my family's hope.

I am the only hope because I am the only one free to say exactly what is going on. The others have been pressured to keep their mouths shut or worse harm will come to me or to others, and to my son. And then they have demonstrated what they are willing to do, to both me and my son, in retaliation. It is an effective way of keeping my family tight-lipped.

I used to even get so upset with my mother and father, feeling they betrayed me when they even came close to saying there was something mentally wrong with me. And then I realized, this is exactly what these people want. They want me to devastate my parents and turn against them and think they have betrayed me. They haven't.

Now, when my mother writes me a long note about how things I describe are just works of the devil and spiritual, I am no longer angry. I no longer question my parents.

I don't question them because I know someone is putting them up to it. They have become some of the world's greatest actors, and they have done this out of love for me and my son, and are somehow trapped or feel trapped from being able to speak out.

I am the one who has the freedom to speak out.

I am the one who chooses to be more independent than anyone I know and I am punished for it. I do not take orders from anyone other than God.

I have seen pastors and protestants and others even, who just go along with things and I choose not to.

I am free and yet I have lost everything in order to be free. Why in the world did I ever decide to give my tormentors what they wanted? a lie, to say nothing happened to me and my son and it was just creative writing. We have been tortured and continue to be tortured.

I began to go along with the lie, as I was told by powerful people that if I didn't, we would all suffer more.

Guess what the biggest tactic has been?

"No one will believe you."

"Go ahead, say whatever you want. NO ONE will ever believe you."

Lying and defaming me to be mentally ill is the primary means of discrediting my testimony.

My testimony is so horrific, it is hard enough to believe as it is. But all that the criminals had to do was seal this potential that someone might believe me, by getting false evaluations of mental illness.

Every allegation of my being mentally ill has come after crimes were committed against me and my child.

How funny that I was never "mentally ill" before.

(I was listening to worship music but felt this sadness and knew I was supposed to go back to bjork genre. I don't know why. there is a reason for everything. Might just skip around for awhile. I quit the bjork genre. That wasn't it. I thought of Danish for some reason. so clicked on Danish traditional. I like this one..."Herr Christ, Der Einig Gotts Sohn by Johannes Weyrauch on Dresden Kreuzchor." There was a different song and I skipped to go to this one. I like this one. I don't know what they're saying. I might try to guess...it sounds like a combination of a patriotic song and a hymn. Something sounds patriotic. I also like Visan (the song) for chorus by Moses Pergament. I skipped ahead to "Stimmung" by Karlheinz Stockhausen. Ah, good energy there. Sadness in the song but something full with it too. First I was thinking it sounds like mourning in the morning and then I sort of snickered thinking of how they are saying "Wow" in a very long-and-drawn-out-way. I don't think I could listen to it for a long time unless I was making floral arragnements or something. (what I wrote is not even funny but I swear someone out there is laughing). Now I like Old English Carols (4) too, for chorus by Gustav Holst. I like this piano piece too...could probably paint to it if I were wearing a warm sweater because the crowd in the background sounds like rain on rooftop. It's like a hesitating love song, putting a foot forward very carefully. La Fille Aux Chevaux De Lin by Debussy played by Bronika Kushkuley. I just looked it up and it means "the girl with the flaxen hair". Motets (4) on Gregorian Theme by Durufle, maurice, on Trinity College. This one is sort of a stained glass window song.

No comments: