Murdered Indian Nurse

I'm wondering about the murdered indian nurse right now (it's  my opinion she was murdered but I'm not psychic).

I thought about her as I was looking at the ropes over my door, knotted up.  I wondered if it was possible to arrange it so that they held a candle without burning the rest of the rope, like on a tree that has burning candles.  So I held up a candle to see if it would hold and all of a sudden, it caught some of the wires of rope and burnt them immediately.  I suddenly thought about the nurse and how, in her photos, she had gone from having all this hair to looking like she hardly had hair at all.  One of her eyes, in one of the photos, was bugged out, as from torture.  And then, she didn't look like she had much hair left and she was still young, so what happened to it?  Was she being burned alive?

I'm now listening to "Luka" by Suzanne Vega.

Then I was thinking about her and a spider began to spin down from the light under the lampshade above me now.  Dropping down in a straight line from the old-fashioned Watts.  Then as I watched, it decided to climb back up.  I thought how interesting that a hanging is like a spider caught.

Suspended from the ceiling, in a line, this body.  Just like spiders, but of course living ones go out and do other things and make webs and other designs and go up and down.  I don't know if I've ever seen a spider, a real spider, dead at the end of a cobweb line.  I have never seen this before.  Usually they are in their own web.  So it's sort of a like a spider that is still alive.  The idea of hanging I mean, is like a spider at the end of a line but since spiders are never dead at the end of a line, it's like a spider that is not really dead at all, or one that is placed there in that position deliberately.  Symbolically I mean.

I've thought about all kinds of things lately, because I know the government is torturing my family and that various mafias have bought it out (the govt).

Winter term I revisited a story about "The Yellow Wallpaper" which is by a woman who was most likely punished for being psychic.  Her existence was likely less artistry than it was trying to escape concentration camp.  Her husband was killed on one coast and she was on the other coast.  She was put into a psych ward but everything about her smells of U.S. torture and experimentation and research.  She was before the technical advent of MKUltra so I guess it was whatever came after WWI or II immediately, those programs.  The first time I read the story, I thought of a certain interpretation and slant, and then the next time, I saw the same things but a different aspect. 

I also had a few grim moments of thinking about her as I opened the door to my stove, because she and her servant both died with their heads burned in a stove.  It was called suicide, supposedly, and if so, who puts their head into a stove to burn it, for a suicide attempt?  and then who gets a servant to do the exact same thing?  I hardly know of any servants who would do this kind of thing, to make a statement following after their employer.  So right about the time I was reading this story, I was composting of course. 

Growing up, we separated dry garbage from wet-food garbage. So dry things went into the wastebasket under the sink and food leftovers went into a compost bowl or pot or dish with a lid and then were taken outside to be composted.  Granny did this, my mother did this (though not all the time) and I have done this.  I do not have a stove that works, so it is used as a cupboard to store other things.  I have some things set aside on one shelf and then a bowl for compost which I empty and clean each day.  In composting, I compost food and hair from my comb after I've brushed my hair and that kind of thing.  Around the time of the story, I opened my stove door one day and there was this mass of red hair, inside of my stove.

Just like the author, how she (or someone else) chose for her to die.  Her head in a stove.  I thought, that is very strange...I wonder if there are some people who are so intuitive or psychicly gifted, they even know about people generations ahead of them, before they were born, and what is going to happen to them.  How many people have a ball of hair in a white bowl, inside of their stove?

When I saw this, which was something I'd been doing for many months, after reading the story and then her biographical information, I thought, "She was psychic and trapped over it, forced to produce, and then killed."

For me, when I saw this, and reading her bio, it was a symmetry of prisoners in concentration camps.  Who goes into the gas stove?  Or gets fried?  and it made me think of the story of Hansel and Gretel, where the wicked witch is burning people in her stove.  For me, it was like seeing a reflection of concentration camps in my own life, and in her life and lives of others as well.  Her wallpaper...well, she was psychic.  Not that everyone who is psychic is honest.  People can use their gift to manipulate others.  But she talked about the striped wallpaper with roses and designs on it. 

I had a bag of cookies at the back of my stove.  They were given to me 2 years ago, almost 2 years ago.  They were from my parent's hired man, who I didn't trust, "Bob Little".  So I took them to my house when they were offered and then I put them inside this Mission plastic bag that is yellow with a stripe across it.  I saved them because we were being drugged around that time, and I thought maybe I would have something tested if necessary.  Or keep them and make sure my parents were okay after their share.  They have pink and green on them, like the roses in the wallpaper, and over time, they folded up and crumbled, just like the wallpaper.  Basically, I have her "wallpaper" at the back of my stove and then I was putting my hair in there in front of it, for my compost but of course, one day, what is so innocent and unnoticed, stands out like a electrical shock.

The author was against use of electrocution for the death penalty.  She and her husband worked against it, and as someone who was forcibly put into a psych ward, who experienced "electrotherapy" treatments, she was against use of technology on human beings, for "treatments" or as excuses for gross human experimentation and torture.

At the time I realized the sight of my stove, I was also using it to store my 2 pots/pans, one made in Germany and the other made in U.S. "Revereware".

I can't think it is only a coincidence.  It is too bizarre to be coincidence.  I had the feeling that maybe she was talented as well as psychic, and she was making money for publishers so this is why she was cranking out books.  I don't think all of it was what she wanted to do.  She was put into a psych ward when she began to resist.

I am not sure why I didn't throw out the cookies.  I still haven't and it's one thing I never felt I should be throwing out.  For whatever reason.  And then it ended up taking on this odd symbolic meaning.

I just looked at the bag again.  I remembered some pink ones too but I don't see any right now.  They all have green sprinkles and are other kinds and squares.  It's a yellow striped Mission bag that says "An Authentic Tradition" with "Gruma" on a corner, not sure what that means.  On the back the ingredients say "treated with lime".  There is red, hot pink and yellow stripes and through the clear bag cookies with green sprinkles and a bar and chocolate chip and some other kinds. 

I had them on the top shelf at the back, the pans and pots at bottom and middle, and the compost bowl which had my hair on top, at bottom.  I keep another mass of hair in a cupboard higher up, which I save for analysis and for thinking of my "hair" and my heir and what I read in a poem by a woman, oh I mixed them up!  Sylvia Plath I think, for the story about her hair rising.

She is the one who I thought is psychic.  Plath.  The other woman too, to some degree, but then Plath's poem about the hair rising, "I rise with my hair", around the same time of this other womans' work, had me thinking about HER psychic abilities.  I randomly read in my Bible that they put scarlet wool on top of sacrifices and this seemed to me to be part of her inspiration.

Plath is the one who supposedly killed herself sticking her head into a stove, with her servant following her design later.  I think both women (authors, of the poem and of the short story) were born about the same time and they both lived in New England.  I thought the one who wrote the wallpaper story was on the run from being tortured for activism and that Plath was pushed to produce stories and poetry.

I don't believe either of them was a regular writer--I am positive both were psychicly gifted.

What the meaning is in the Indian nurses death, I don't know.  I would like to know what color and kind of scarf or tie was used, and how it was done and what was around her at the time, mainly because I think it was possibly symbolic in some way.

The strangest thing is that I am realizing more about symbolism.  I had thought seeing a saint prayer card of Jesus was just some kind of nice thing in FBI Raul Bujanda's car but I don't think so now.  At the time, I had no knowledge of mafias and FBI and what they do, and I hadn't read enough stories or seen enough crime movies to know about some of the traditions.  One of them, according to a book I read, is giving an "omerta" (shut up or you're dead warning) with a sign of a black hand.  I guess some Catholics use the sign of the hand and burning heart of Jesus as the "hand of Omerta".  How should I have known?  I stumble upon everything by accident and then sometimes, it looks like I know things I don't.  I've learned some things, but very often,...for example, here is an example...

I hadn't even read this book yet, but it was at my house and I was walking for exercise and waving to be friendly.  Then this string of motorcycles and cars came along, 3 in a row, and instead of waving each time, I just held up my hand and kept it up, forward, at shoulder level, as they drove past and this motorcycle man looked serious and I thought, "What?  why does someone seem spooked?"  So then I got home and read this book about "the black hand" and how it was given as a sign of omerta warning to people and I thought, maybe that guy was in a motorcycle gang and knows about this?  I don't know.  All I'm saying, is if I do something sometimes, I don't always know how it could be interpreted by others, even if they think I know.

Regardless, the U.S. has had my family in what is not better described than a concentration camp.  I am really not joking around or exaggerating, and they've done the same thing to my son Oliver.  It is a tradition of persecution.

Oh yeah.  Looking at Plaths bio just now, she wrote "The Bell Jar" which is interesting as I have cookies in a Mission tortillas bag with a bell on it.   She compares the bell jar, in her novel to the feeling of being stifled and unable to breathe and then she ends her life by stifling herself (if she really did it) by putting her head inside of a gas oven. 

("Does she know?" 
"No, and she doesn't need to know.")

Plath was of German and Austrian ancestry and raised in Boston, which is where a lot of the U.S. abuse and research experiments have been conducted, and where a lot of material from other states is going.  They seem to be part of the "production mill" in exploitation of victims of U.S. government "programs".   She wrote the book under the pen name "Victoria Lucas".

Shall we have a baby that bawls within the palace walls?