the current situation

11:59 AM 6/22/10

Well, here is the current situation.

He spoke to me Sunday. We had a few hours working together. He told me that he will be losing his driver's license for three months, and then for six more months - there are two separate crimes. One crime was underage possession of alcohol, the other was driving under the influence. He says he will walk to work, but I am hoping his parents will take him, or maybe he can get the manager to arrange his hours to fit around a bus schedule. It's possible to walk that far, but it's hard to do it, and he will show up late for work a lot. I've seen it happen before to someone else who tried to walk a long distance to McD, and was always showing up late because of it. He got fired for being late, but the manager who fired him was a, well, there's no nice way to say it. She wasn't very popular, and she was just being mean. That sums it up. I just don't want Curtis to get fired for being late, that's all.

I told him that I would've wanted to know what was going on the past week, but I couldn't ask, because I couldn't get emails through, and then I got de-friended. He said that he had been drunk every night this week. He vaguely made it sound as though, maybe, he had de-friended me, and written the unkind email, while drunk. He didn't openly admit to anything, he just vaguely suggested that anything could have happened while he was drunk. And still, even now, I won't know whether he really wrote it himself, whether it expresses a true feeling, whether they were puppet words that he was forced to say, or whether the computer hackers wrote it and he had nothing to do with it at all.

This doesn't explain much. It doesn't explain why all the OTHER text messages were never answered, and it doesn't explain why he never called me back when I left a phone message months ago, and it doesn't explain why he didn't answer the direct questions that I asked him in the written notes. It only MIGHT POSSIBLY explain one small incident, one time.

So on Sunday he did things to get me to be friends with him again, talking to me often, since nobody else was there. I walked in on everybody having a bad day. The lady up at the front of the deli started talking to me the minute I walked in, and told me she was covering for somebody else who wasn't showing up, and she didn't want to be there. It got so busy that she needed help closing the deli because she was running behind, so I helped her a little bit, and I also visited Curtis a couple times, and in reality, it was only a couple minutes of talking when I first came in, and then, I went to the cooler later because a big stack of boxes fell over and spilled blueberries on the floor, and when I saw it, I laughed, and he said it wasn't funny (and the voices attacked me for the rest of the afternoon because I laughed, but it wasn't directed at him, it was because of the weirdness of a huge pile of blueberries all over the floor - it wasn't like, ha ha, you klutz, you knocked stuff over, or ha ha, you get to clean that up - it wasn't like that. It was, ha ha, oh my gosh, that's a huge pile of blueberries on the floor where they don't belong, I've never seen anything like that.). I think I'd better end that sentence - apparently, my sentences aren't coherent this morning.

I accidentally forgot to write Louis a note telling him that I didn't get to do the strombolis. I knew I would never even get a chance to begin the strombolis, because I came in at 5:00, and it was one random thing after another, and even on a perfect day, 5:00 is too late to try starting strombolis, when I have chronic fatigue, and I'm being zapped, and I can't jump efficiently from one task to another.

The voices woke me up the next morning with fake feelings of fear and shame over having forgotten to tell Louis about that. In the real world, I would have been totally clueless - I would've forgotten it forever, and that would've been the end of it. They wanted me to call him on the phone and apologize.

They also urge me to do unnatural things like tell my dad Happy Father's Day, and I might actually do that - in the real world, people like me will have a friend, or a spouse, who urges them to do those things, but it is *NOT* acceptable to have a murderer pushing buttons on a machine to force you to get urges to do trivial things like that - that's what real-world friends are for. So, I didn't call Louis to apologize about the strombolis and apologize that I forgot to write him a note.

I still don't know how well Curtis is able to read my handwritten notes, but 'they' still keep urging me to write notes to him anyway. In fact, they won't leave me alone about it. They keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing for me to write him another note. In the past, he has responded to notes that I've written, but he only responded through his behavior. I've written him a note that said I loved him, and he responded by being friendly and secure and calling me his nickname, and showing more trust. He's able to read them enough to get the general idea. But they're filled with unnecessary crap, because the voices have to insert a million tons of garbage into them, instead of letting them be direct and straightforward.

I was getting attacked again this morning about sexual fetishes. It started when somebody was talking to me about all my on-hold, or abandoned, projects. We were looking at all the things the projects have in common, to see the different categories of projects, to look at the different levels of purposes they were trying to achieve. There are high-level and low-level purposes. I need to do chores every day, like eating, and cleaning things, and those will always be just mundane chores to maintain my life. There might be better ways of doing them, but in the end, I will still need to do something mundane like prepare a meal somehow. Then there are projects that have higher level purposes, like, saving up enough money that I will be able to use it in my old age, when I can no longer work. There are projects like, 'increase my income.' That kind of thing.

So, we were going over all these projects, and they noticed that I had a lot of old projects from the past, where I wanted to learn something or try something, and they were random things. I wanted to go to a certain place just to see it, or try some random activity just to try it, or learn something just to learn it. They wondered what all that was for, and what all the random things had in common. I said that I used to have a manic feeling that I had to learn, and do, everything in the world that there was to do, and not miss any opportunities. I didn't like choosing one path, and neglecting another path.

This is where it went wrong. Somebody, one of the murderers, started to interpret this in a sexual way as 'gluttony,' like I had to eat the whole world. You can laugh, and it might sound funny, but this is the same, stupid, pathetic bullshit that they do to me all the time, over and over again, misinterpreting non-sexual things as being a sexual symbol, and then forcing me to see disgusting or horrifying sexual images, which is what they then did. They showed me a disgusting, terrifying image of a person who was trapped inside a small thing that looked like a pipe, full of water, and only their belly was sticking up out of it, but their face and the rest of their body was under water, and they were trapped there by someone else who forced them to be there, drowning and panicking. This is the typical image that they show me, pictures of people being suffocated or drowning and panicking.

Then they started arguing, and I know this is fake bullshit, but they started 'pretending not to understand,' when in reality, they do understand, there's a big difference between anything that I fantasize about, versus what they themselves are doing. When I fantasize about something, it stays in my head and is never acted out in the real world, and the intentions behind it are drastically different. What THEY are doing is pushing buttons on a machine to force innocent people to see disgusting and horrifying images without wanting to see them. Then they started telling me that I was doing the same thing by walking down the street wearing shorts when I don't shave my legs. It's not the same thing at all. There is a big difference between unshaven legs (a natural thing that everybody has, it's harmless, we evolved that way, the human brain doesn't get any NATURAL instinctive fear triggers from it, and if any fear is triggered, it's social anxiety, nothing more) versus the image of a person trapped inside something and drowning and dying, being forced into my head while I am lying in bed in my own house, from a person whose company I do not want. So they pretended not to know that there was any difference between these things, because they wanted to upset me enough that I would threaten to kill them. They always want to upset me enough to trigger death threats.

There is the 'reward' behavior that they do. I want it be 'Life is a journey, not a destination' - I want to enjoy the process of what I do, every moment, as I do it. THEY, on the other hand, say 'Life is a destination, not a journey.' Life is about doing something you hate, in order to get artificial 'rewards' from an external authority figure. I finally fixed my car, and the murderers 'rewarded' me by allowing me (or I should say, forcing me) to think about my sexual fetish, one time, for one day. So I'm supposed to do 'good things' and be 'obedient' in order to 'get a reward' later. That is how they view the world. They don't understand what it means to enjoy every moment of your life, in all that you do, because you aren't being constantly zapped by some kind of energy attack that makes you unable to focus your mind. And no matter how many times, no matter how many ways, I explain it to them, they don't understand that the 'reward and punish' belief system is foul and evil and it destroys human life.

So this morning they were making it seem like they had to go in people's heads and watch their sexual fantasies and look for any sexual deviants because all unusual fantasies meant that you were an evil serial killer who was really going to act on those fantasies, and that's what gave them the right to destroy my life. And they have to suppress the fantasies, in order to achieve no particular goal at all - it doesn't stop people from doing evil things, because those people weren't going to do anything evil anyway. It just ruins people's lives.

Back to Curtis. They're attacking me about him, because I'm supposed to verify that he didn't really say, or didn't really mean, the thing that the email said. But I don't even want to do that. I can't get enough time to talk to him. And they won't leave me alone about it. It made me distrusting towards him and reluctant to be friendly, and I certainly don't want to give notes anymore.

They did the same thing to a guy named Chris who used to work here at the same time that they were trying to force me to get together with Martin. Chris and I were friendly to each other. One day, he complimented me about my long hair, when we were alone together. I thanked him and I was talking about it a little bit with him. The murderers reacted as though he and I were going to start having sex that very instant, at work. They forced me to say something to destroy trust and 'put him down.' I looked at him, and felt like I was searching for something to say, and all of a sudden I said, 'What is on your HAT?' in a disdainful tone of voice. And that was NOT ME. I could clearly see that what was on his hat was a bunch of stickers. They had been fooling around and they put stickers on his hat, for fun. I've done that kind of thing myself, just goofing around. So I didn't need to ask what was on his hat, or express disdain. They were stickers that we have from the workplace, I forget what, just some of the stickers we use in the deli, like stickers that say 'PAID' and that kind of thing.

So he suddenly became flustered and ashamed, and he felt ridiculous, and he said that they had just been goofing around and put them there, which I already knew, and I would never, ever have said that in the real world. After that, he was never the same again. When he spoke to me, we had been equals. Now, he was inferior. He would look at me in a hesitant, apologetic way, and be a little timid when he said hello. The feeling I had, the feeling I compared it to, was a friendly, trusting puppy dog, who would always go up to you and get petted, and one day, you kicked it for no reason, and it was in the dog's nature to go up and be friendly to you again afterwards, but never as trusting as before, and it would go up timidly to be petted again, and you'd pet it, but it would always be a little bit afraid. I've seen this happen with dogs. And I can't remember when I saw it, because I don't go around randomly kicking dogs to be mean. It's more of a general idea, from years of experience with dogs, my own and other people's dogs and stray dogs.

I couldn't explain to Chris, 'I am the victim of a crime. Murderers put words into my mouth, using electronic devices, and force me to say things. I did not say that myself.' And even if I told him that, he might not understand it anyway. His body, his brain, remembers seeing me, my face, my voice, saying those words. It's recorded that way in his brain and his body.

I feel the same way now with Curtis. I don't know whether he really said it, or really meant it, or not. And now, they have me doubting whether he's able to read my handwritten notes.

I can't get Curtis to say this: 'I was drunk every day this week, so I don't know what I did. I never found the email you were talking about. I don't even know what it said. I don't know whether I deleted it or whether I even wrote it. And the thing that it said, was false.' I can't get him to say that, because we would need a lot of time to talk.

********

A long time ago, I used to spend all day writing in my journal. I remember that. This is what I'm doing now. It's my default activity. The quality of the writing is not that great. I write best when I write with a purpose and an audience. I'm capable of good writing.

One small nice thing: the seeds that I planted are sprouting. I enjoy watching them grow up. There's a variety of herbs and ordinary garden plants out there. I think I have broccoli in there too. I'd rather have a cow that I could milk every day, and free-roaming hens laying eggs that I could eat every day, but I have a tiny green-plants garden instead.