Monday, August 23, 2010

a handwritten note; dreams; random topics; electronic harassment - ultrasonic attacks

8:42 PM 8/23/10

curtis - no phone, nickname, note, dream
new tables?
watching movies - a substitute for socializing
feeling optimistic, which means sjw exposure
not trying to do online dating now
flat tire
new refrigerator
dreadlocks progress

I'm not sure if I have enough mental focus to write a blog today. I have a few different things to say. I could tell the dreams first. The dreams are always fun to write about. There were a couple of sexual dreams. This happened because I gave Curtis a handwritten note. I told him that I had texted him a bunch of times the other day. He was shocked and surprised. He didn't get any of them, and he didn't get the voice mail message I left either. 'Maybe they shut my phone off already,' he said, as though he had been using it up till now and thought it was okay. His phone is being shut off temporarily because he didn't pay the bill this month. He hasn't worked enough hours to make enough money. So that was why I decided to give him a handwritten note. He told me he also doesn't have internet right now, so he's not getting his emails.

I gave him a note which didn't ask him to *do* anything specific. I told him, 'Humor me,' and handed him the note. 'Don't worry about it - it's just a reminder,' I said. In the note, I summed up all of the things which I've said to him again and again, many times, in various notes and text messages and emails that he hasn't gotten. The note's theme was, 'I always say the same things.' I always tell him that someone's blocking my emails and phone calls, so I worry about how I will reach him if he, or I, leave our jobs for any reason. I always tell him that I want to be friends with him away from work, and that I'd like to be friends with him a long time, not just temporarily. Sometimes I tell him that I love him and that I want to touch him but I don't want to make him uncomfortable.

Later that day - after he probably read the note - I walked past him, while he was standing with a bunch of people, and he was watching me with big, big, wide eyes.  I don't know whether that emotion was fear, excitement, shock, or whatever, he was just wide-eyed.  That is something I love about him, how his face, and his whole body, express his feelings in a dramatic, visible, obvious way.

He has always responded positively to my notes and to my touch. He keeps coming back and calling me pet names. He doesn't avoid me or act grossed out. In fact, several times when I've given him notes in the past, the name-calling started happening even more than ever before. I looked at his girlfriend, and I decided, yes, I'm ugly, but she's ugly too, and he's marrying her. So he's able to tolerate ugly girls.

Well, since I gave him that note, I had dreams that night. In the first dream, I was kissing a very little boy, a prepubescent child. I didn't expect to kiss him. I was just leaning over close to him and he started kissing me, if I remember correctly. Then he started rubbing against me and he had an orgasm. It was sort of unrealistic. He ejaculated a clear liquid and it sprayed up between us. Then a voice said, 'You didn't expect him to get hard.'

Then there was another dream the next day, in the morning sometime. This was a 'symbolic' dream that the voices explained to me after they woke me up. It's complicated, so I'll just tell what happened and then explain the symbolic interpretation. My ex-boyfriend Eric and I went over to 'John's' house (my brother). We were playing video games on his computer because I had a problem with my own computer at home. It was a role-playing game, something like dungeons and dragons. The character in the game was controlling an animal using magic. I couldn't tell what the animal was, from the image, but the voices told me it was a goat. It was standing up on legs and walking, so it didn't look like a normal goat - it must have been an anthropomorphic goat. That's when they woke me up, and then they proudly explained to me the interpretation of their dream.

John (my brother) = I moved into John's apartment because I was kicked out of my parents' house, so John = Carrie, Curtis's girlfriend, because Curtis moved into her house after getting kicked out of his parents' house. John represents Carrie.

Eric represents me. Eric was my 'older' boyfriend. Now I'm the older one.

I was Curtis in the dream.

(Yes, every person was somebody other than themselves, in a different role.)

We were playing a 'role playing game.' Every person was in a new role this time. The game was a sexual game, and the animal was a goat - the goat represents a penis. I had to use this computer at my brother's house, without asking his permission, because I had a computer problem at home - they told me that I would be on Curtis and Carrie's bed (the 'computer'), without Carrie's permission, instead of my own bed, because I don't really have a bed here at my apartment. And we were afraid that 'John' (Carrie) would find out that we were using this 'computer' (the bed) to play 'role-playing games' on. And the voices got even more complicated with their explanation, saying that I was controlling the goat without touching it, by magic. I'm not sure what that meant. I couldn't see what the video game character was doing to magically control the goat, because that's when they woke me up.

It's complicated when I look at what I've written. My brother John was Carrie; I was Curtis; my older-than-me ex-boyfriend Eric was me.

Those dreams weren't quite as cute as the furry black bull dream, but they were okay.


I can't stand to do online dating right now. There is this inhibition stopping me.


My life seems to go nowhere, because the attackers constantly prevent me from thinking. I could meditate and get a perspective on my situation and quickly decide what is the best thing to do, and then do it. But I can't do that. I get zapped every time I think. They were doing it the other day, and if it were possible to kill them, I would have done it that day. I was trying to think about finding a REAL husband, not a young guy who's extremely attractive but can't be reached and already has another girlfriend that he'll be marrying. They kept forcing me to fall asleep *EVERY TIME* I tried to think about the real husband. Curtis isn't going to be my husband. He is someone else's husband. The most I could be is an extramarital affair, if that.

The nickname: He must have received the BAD text message (but not the good ones), because he acted like he'd gotten the message that I had sent him, telling him not to call me that name anymore. Then again, it might have also been because he called me the name in front of Stan, and I responded by acting hurt and then saying, in a slightly angry voice, 'Yeah, THAT'S ME,' and then walking away. Anyway, he either got the text message or he didn't. Regardless, he changed what he was doing. He started calling EVERYONE the nickname, at least the adjective part of it. (I wrote a blog a week or two ago saying, pretend the nickname was 'my fair-skinned beauty,' and he started calling everyone 'fair-skinned'. It's like that. It's an unusual adjective that you wouldn't use in an everyday sentence.)

He saw me walk into the back room, where I went to write a department transfer, and he was drunk on Dayquil that day, since he had a bad cold. (It was so bad, he went to the hospital the next day. I don't know how exactly he was sick, or why he needed to go to the hospital, but he did, and he said they gave him two shots, in his butt. He was limping the next day. What kind of shots do they give someone who has a cold? I hate mainstream medicine and its placebos.) So he was acting even more talkative and friendly than usual, being drunk on Dayquil, and when I went back to do the transfer, he said, 'Is that my fair-skinned.... Orry? I thought you were fair-skinned Orry.' (Yes, I'm substituting the adjective.) I said, 'Yeah, he's about the same size as me.' (Orry is short and small, but I don't find him attractive merely because of that. He's not a competitor. I'm not helplessly attracted to *ALL* small guys.)

So whatever I did, I got him to start calling everybody the adjective. He might possibly not need to do that anymore. We sat together and talked a bit one day - I already wrote about that. Then he sat next to me again when I was on my lunch break and getting ready to go back in, and I stayed out there five minutes later than I was supposed to, because I decided that spending five extra minutes with him was more important than getting back to work on time. He is still being friendly to me, after all of this. He still acts trusting instead of afraid or 'weirded out.'

I'm not being extremely aggressive or pushy. I'm not putting deadlines on it. I'm not directly asking him to go out with me at a specific time. ('Go out' is the wrong phrase to use. I don't want to 'go out' with him. I want to spend time together with him, doing anything at all.) I'm just reminding him that I exist and that I care about him and that I want to continue being his friend even though I can't reliably get emails or text messages or phone calls to him.


I had an extremely flat tire today. I had noticed it was getting flatter over the past few weeks. Today I checked it. It's supposed to be 32 psi. It was 10! It was 1/3 of the pressure it was supposed to be. It was so flat, the sides were bulging out at the bottom. I'm lucky to be alive. It could have failed while I was driving down the highway and I would have gone straight into the oncoming lane. I refilled it, and I will keep an eye on it. If it keeps getting flat, I will have to get a new tire or something.

New refrigerator? I was talking to the maintenance guy today. He mentioned that an energy efficiency inspector would be coming over, and that we were all going to get new refrigerators for all the apartments, no matter what. That's nice for me, because I still don't feel safe using the fridge after the bone marrow vapors. There's just a tiny bit left, and I don't want to ruin any food or drinks I put in there.

Dreadlocks: I started the no-shampoo experiment in January, 2009. I wrote about it in this blog. My hair gradually formed natural dreadlocks. In the beginning, I had a couple of badly formed monster locks that were too big and in a bad position. They were pulling the hair in a bad way, and it hurt, and it was hard to lie down on that part of my head when I slept. Now, they have gradually moved and mellowed out a little bit, and they're not really pulling anymore. Some of the roots connected to the monster locks have fallen out, so that the lock isn't connected to as many roots as it was in the beginning. The locks are moving to different positions on the scalp, instead of staying in just one place. But I still have a bald spot on the right top side, where there is hardly any hair, and a big empty space in between the locks. It's not 'bald,' it's just thin.

Tables: I got rid of my tables that I had at the other apartment, because they were contaminated along with everything else. I am thinking of getting new ones and putting cardboard on them (so that it's easy to clean up if they get contaminated again), and under them, so that I can set up my computer table and use it more easily to do computer projects and anything else.

Curtis said he's been watching a lot of movies, since he's disconnected from cable TV right now. I've been watching movies too. I rented Twilight - New Moon, and watched it again, and it didn't suck as much, now that I understand what's going on, and now that I've seen the first movie and read some of the first book. Movies are my substitute for socializing. I am not spending time with real people. I am watching imaginary people without having to interact with them, and they're pretty to look at, and people have a real need to look at beautiful people. I think it's natural to need to see beautiful people. That's why I'm interested in Weston Price's studies of the primitive diets and the facial deformities that make us ugly. We don't have to be ugly. An ugly person can have beautiful children if they use the diet. That is what I am hoping to do.

I think I'll post this now.

The murderers are enraging me while I wait for this blog page to load. I have been hit with St. John's Wort recently and so they are able to trigger rage. My elbow is leaning on the cardboard box where my computer keyboard is, and the murderers are shooting sonic bullets, or whatever it is that they use, to slowly make the computer keyboard slip downwards under my elbow, a fraction of a millimeter at a time, over and over, while triggering the feeling of rage. I don't know why they do the slips. It makes me want to kill them. AJH at knows about this. He has the same thing happen. Clicking, snapping noises on objects near me, and my body parts 'slipping' down against a surface, without moving at all, or slowly moving, when there is, in reality, enough friction to hold them still, and they shouldn't be moving, and when it slips, it emits an extremely high-pitched, painful noise above the level of human hearing, but it's audible enough to cause me physical pain, and rage. I usually hear voices at the same moment that it slips, or just afterwards. It's like the sonic bullets are being used to 'deliver' the voices. Sometimes I think the sonic bullets are taking snapshots of an image, the image of me sitting here. Sometimes when they do this, I punch something and hurt my hand. I try not to do that, and it mostly happens if I'm having a St. John's Wort reaction.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Raw milk, and a touch obsession

8:53 AM 8/17/10

I've been drinking lots of the Amish milk today and yesterday. It's addictive and I am drinking one glass after another, as I haven't had any breakfast yet. I have only a half gallon, and I am maybe 3/4 of the way through it, which is a good thing, because I don't want it to spoil. I am cautious about it since it's raw. It might possibly start to spoil faster than pasteurized milk. The only other raw milk I had was frozen goat's milk, several years ago, from a little store called Stone Soup, and I don't think I ever finished drinking the whole container of that milk.

It didn't make me sick at my stomach. It didn't give me that feeling of swelling in my upper right quadrant of my abdomen, where my liver is. That swollen liver-gallbladder feeling used to happen when I drank milk or ate any fatty foods, in 1999 when I was extremely sick for several months. However, it did give me a little bit of gas, but it's a trivial amount and hardly noticeable, barely anything. I'm not lactose intolerant, but I thought I might be allergic to milk. I'm not having severe allergic reactions either, as I drink this raw cow's milk.

I have had an occasional skin rash for a couple months now. It seems to happen at random times. It coincided with planting my little herb garden and eating the fresh herb leaves out of there. It also gets triggered by sitting on the metal table in the drive-thru at McDonald's, which causes all of my legs and butt to start itching horribly - probably nickel. Peter's been using some new drugs too, so I could be getting secondhand drug residues from him.

I have been having some rashes, at the same time as I'm drinking this milk, but it's been inconsistent. I think that milk shouldn't be put into a stainless steel container. Steel contains nickel, if I understand correctly. Or at least, some kinds of steel do. I think that some of the metal goes into the milk, and you can have allergic reactions to the metal, not the milk itself.

I am noticing more dyslexia as I'm typing. So I am having a Feingold-diet hyperactivity reaction to the milk, but it's still mild. I'm making, and correcting, lots of typos and letter reversals as I type, more than usual. The attackers want me to think that they're causing the typing problems, and yes, I know they're *able* to cause those incidents to happen, but that doesn't mean they're causing all of them. The hyperactive foods might make people more vulnerable to that type of attack, and less able to automatically correct it as it happens. Foods and chemicals and drugs change how you're affected by attacks.

I made a bunch of 'about' pages today for this blog. Those pages are probably going to be the most useful thing in the blog, because they are 'static', they stay there all the time, without changing, and people can find them easily. It's harder to find a particular blog entry that you don't remember the search terms for, if you happened to find that blog post through a google search or something. There are hundreds of posts going back two years to 2008, and I didn't categorize them or anything. I wasn't thinking ahead, wasn't trying to get readers, and wasn't planning on making a blog that was structured and easy to read and easy to search through. There is no index or table of contents for this blog. There is no particular order for the posts - they are about random things that I was thinking about, or things that happened that day, or things the voices wanted me to write about that day. I could put up a tag cloud, but that wouldn't be very useful, because almost every single post is tagged 'mind control,' for instance. And I'm not very conscious of HOW I choose what tags to use, and sometimes I don't use them at all.

A social observer. In order to be that, I would have to socialize. They still want me to be a prostitute, so that I can 'socialize' the way I did in the dream a few days ago.

There are some ways that it would be nice to be a prostitute. I would get paid more dollars per hour than I do at my 'real' job. If I had several regular clients who I would see again and again, we could establish trust, so that I wouldn't be afraid that they were a serial killer, rapist, or thief. I would have some control over the hours I worked and when I worked and how I worked.

I already know a lot of ways that it *wouldn't* be nice to be a prostitute. I'm disgusted by a lot of men. I'm chemical sensitive, so I don't like deodorants or perfumes. I react to other people's drugs, so anybody using drugs would give me secondhand drug residues. I might even become addicted to a dangerous drug just by skin absorption, from being around a drug user.

Also, I still feel bonded to Curtis, and 'they' make me believe that he's jealous if I see other men. I don't know whether that's true or not, but it's what they make me believe.

My bond with Peter: Peter really doesn't know much about my day-to-day life or what I'm experiencing, or what I care about, or think about, or know about. We can't talk very well. He always interrupts me after a couple words, because his blood sugar is always either too high, or too low, or he's on drugs, so he's always uncomfortable and impatient and unable to relax and empathize. When you're sick and in pain all the time, it's impossible to listen to other people and understand their problems and their lives and the things they care about. And I always want to give him advice about how he should take care of his medical problems, but my advice is always impossibly expensive, so I don't even try anymore to say any of it to him. ('You need to totally change your entire diet; don't EVER use any artificial sweeteners, stop drinking soda, stop eating junk food, eat more fat (but it has to be fresh, non-rancid, animal fat), eat whole foods...' 'To cure your insomnia, you need to get rid of all of your furniture and clothing that has drug residues on it' (especially now that he's gotten some of the drug residues from my car, which contain ephedra). All of my advice is impossibly expensive to follow. That's why I want a religious group that will make a place where it's easy to follow my rules, because the whole environment, a whole building to live in, is designed to make it easy to live that way. Like a monastery or a retreat. I like thinking of Bill Gates saying 'A PC on every desktop,' and I say, 'A retmeishka monastery in every town.' This is when the voices are talking to me about making a religious order.)

So Peter really doesn't listen to me all that much. He always gets defensive and argues after I've only spoken a couple words of my opinion or advice. And he can't really listen if I talk about my dreams and hopes and desires. He can only feel his own pain.

My bond with Curtis got stronger again, and I started to feel hopeful about it again, just because I sat with him and had a conversation the other day. Now, I feel like there's no need to go back to the dating website, or go looking for new friends, or try to start a community.

And yesterday, the attackers were stopping me from thinking about it - they attacked me over and over again, making me fall asleep every time I tried to think about getting a husband. I need some way to support myself while I raise my children, and I can't carry my children with me to the workplace, because our society doesn't allow that, although I think they should.

So I am thinking about how to get a husband for a loveless practical marriage. I imagine it to be a loveless practical marriage because I'm not strongly attracted to adult men. My most intense sexual attraction is for teenage boys. I would have a lukewarm sexual desire for my adult husband.

This was true when I was with Eric, who was, I think, 35 when I met him? I didn't have an intense, passionate sexual love for him. I always felt like something was missing. (This is literal, too: something is missing - he was circumcised. I hate circumcision. I believe that sex, and bonding, and relationships, would all be very different if people weren't circumcised in the USA.) We had sex, and we enjoyed the sex, but I felt like I needed to have a crush on some other guy, to feel more passion and more intensity. And Eric and I fought about things, and couldn't talk about certain subjects, which was one of the reasons why we eventually stopped seeing each other. He couldn't stand to hear about the hackers or the mind control, and he would go into a screaming freak-out tantrum if I mentioned any of it.

And he was jealous because he believed that I loved John DiMoia more than him (Nerdman, from the chatroom, the guy who stopped answering my emails, and right at the same time, I started having computer hacking problems and online harassment, so I thought it was him, but actually it could have been anyone). I was being forced, by mind control, to keep writing emails to John DiMoia. I had never met him, I've never seen a photograph of him, I don't know what he looks like except that he's Italian and going bald, which is all the he told me in the chatroom. So it was ridiculous to think that I had any 'real' feeling for a real person. I was being forced to obsess about him. I would try to explain that to Eric, but he wouldn't listen to any of it.

That's different from my crushes on Martin and Curtis. They are real people who I've met and talked to in the real world. I could see that they were physically attractive, I could touch them, talk to them, be close to them. My attraction to both of them is real. But the things that I *do* to them, such as sending a particular email about a particular subject on a particular day, are forced by mind control. I am forced to say the particular words I say to Curtis and I said to Martin back when I was emailing him. I usually disagree about whether it's a good idea to say these words, or to use this approach. The attackers almost always use 'verbal attacks' which I've been reading about in my book, 'The Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense.' Almost everything they say and do is meant to make someone feel guilty, ashamed, inferior, or some other negative feeling, so I disagree that I should say those things. I think it's harmful to talk that way.

So I hate the things I'm forced to say to them. And I hate it that I can't tell the truth, make my own observations, speak my own words, tell them something that I just noticed that minute, ask them questions, listen to what they're saying and respond to it - I can't do those things, because my words are puppet words, written by an attacker. Many of my words are pre-recorded phrases coming from an artificial intelligence, which senses what's going on and gives me a fake scripted response to that situation.

But the intense sexual attraction is real.

I rented 'Twilight' last night. I've started reading the book, but I haven't finished it yet. I actually first saw the second movie, then the third, and now the first. I thought the second movie sucked, but I gave it a chance. The third movie kind of sucked, too, but I gave it a chance again. Then I watched the first movie... and the FIRST movie was REALLY GOOD! The second and third movies had that sloppy, careless, hasty, get-it-done-in-a-hurry, 'sequel' feeling to them. I knew that the books were probably better.

I can't explain how the second and third movies sucked. I can explain it a little bit with the Harry Potter movies: The best Harry Potter movie of all time was The Prisoner of Azkaban, because it was done by a different director, or producer, or whatever, and it has a totally different style than the other movies. Things like background music and lighting. I'm not getting into that right now because it's a long subject. But it's those kind of things that made the second and third Twilight movies suck more than the first one. The first movie was good on its own, as a stand-alone movie.

Edward is 'cold' and 'untouchable.' If he becomes sexually aroused, if he gets too close to Bella, something terrible will happen. This mirrors her relationship with her father. It's taboo to admit that you feel sexually aroused when you hug your daughter and have your arms around her. (This is why I like to read about bonobo apes. They make everything okay.) So some fathers solve the problem by not touching their daughters at all. My father couldn't touch me when I was a little baby, but they say it was because I was hyperactive and almost autistic, and I would scream, cry, and pull away when people touched me. But I grew up not being touched by my father very much, even when I was older. So I can relate to how Bella feels, when she loves her father but they're afraid to touch each other. And I can see it with Edward, too, how they can't touch each other much, but they desperately want to.

I'm going through that right now with Curtis. I want more than anything to touch him, but the slightest touch is extremely intense, full of anxiety and terror. I don't know if I'll be rejected or pushed away. I don't know if he'll say that I'm sexually harassing him, even if I touch him in a small way, like a tap on the arm. But even just a tiny tap on the arm is a big, huge deal to me. The slightest touch is extremely intense. If I've had a reaction to some of my drug residues, my emotions are amplified so much that I feel almost orgasmic if I merely catch his eye across the room. I'll start breathing heavily and I make a sort of gagging motion in my throat, the way you almost gag if you're masturbating and you delay orgasm as long as you can. (Again, this tends to happen if I'm having a drug reaction. In my drug-free state it doesn't happen like that.)

I know this because it happened the other day. I had recently told him, in a text message, not to call me his nicknames anymore, because it makes me feel like he loves me, it makes me feel like I'm special to him, but at other times he seems to reject me, and he has a girlfriend whom he'll be marrying, and I'm trying not to 'sexually harass' him, or violate his lack of consent. And we haven't been looking at each other, except from far across the room.

But I glanced at him, when we hadn't looked at each other all day. I looked up at him as he came in the door. It was wonderful to look in his eyes for a second. A minute later, he came over to me and the couple of other women working in the deli, and he was moving a shelf into the room next to us, and he said, 'hello, my [adjective] deli workers - I'm putting this banana rack over there,' and we said okay. He addressed it to all three of us, as though all of us were [adjective]. The adjective is the first part of the nickname, which I'm keeping censored because it's kind of like a security question, like 'What is your mother's maiden name?' and that kind of thing.

The nickname is a secret. The adjective is an unusual word that nobody would ever use in an ordinary sentence, so I knew he said it because I was there and I'd told him not to call me the nickname. I'm trying to think of an example so you can imagine this. It isn't a commonly used word that you would say to a group of people. 'The voices' suggested a phrase, but I don't like to take their suggestions, because it almost always means something that I don't want to say. They suggested that I give the example like this: what if the nickname was 'my fair-skinned beauty,' or something, and yes, I know that sounds silly, but it's just an example. It would be like he walked up to us in a group of three women and said, 'my fair-skinned deli workers.' It was unusual to say.

As he walked away, I saw his face, and he had a slightly nauseated, disgusted look, which was also a sexually excited look. I've seen him do a sideways smile, kind of a leer, if I've looked at him too intensely in a sexual way, and also, he sometimes looks sick. You're going to laugh at this, but it reminds me of the horses. I've seen horses in photographs, or a video, where the stallion smelled the urine of a mare in heat, and he responded by sneering his lips up into a snarl that showed all his teeth. It was a funny expression. The horse lifted his lips up like that again and again when he smelled the urine. I've seen Curtis do horse-like gestures sometimes. And that was the look on his face - it wasn't a sneer or a leer or a snarl, he didn't really expose his teeth very much, but it was just the faintest suggestion of being sickened and aroused at the same time. That sick-aroused feeling is different depending on who triggers it. If a sexually disgusting person triggers it, it feels like you've been violated, molested, raped, or had some other sexually unpleasant experience. If a sexually attractive person triggers it, that same feeling is pleasant and arousing and extremely exciting, and you want to complete it by having an orgasm.

There was another incident when he strongly reminded me of a horse. It was when I went back into his department to do a department transfer. I had to get some items from produce to use in food service. I went back to write it on the paper. I got the paper off the wall and started writing. He came over to me and stood very close to me, watching silently while I wrote, with his chest open and exposed and radiating heat. He was that close. I could feel the heat of his body. I looked at him, and I reached up with my hand, up to his chest, just under his chin. I was going to gently touch his chest with the back of my hand.

But I startled him. He couldn't see my hand, he shook his head and then lifted his head back to look at my hand just under his chin. He took a step back. I hadn't touched him, I had been very close but not touching. He probably thought that I was going to hurt him, that I had a knife in my hand or something - he's said things like that to me before, that he was afraid I was going to stab him. (I read his facebook page and he had done a fortune-telling app, many months ago, where the fortune predicted that he would die being stabbed by a soulmate.)

In that previous incident, the reason he was afraid I was going to stab him was because I was about to tell him he did something wrong, but I couldn't bear to tell it to him, because I didn't want to talk down to him. Somebody had taken the soups out of the soup cookers, and put them out for the customers, without turning off the soup cookers. If you leave the cookers on, empty, they will overheat and break. I've seen it happen. So I had to tell him he did something wrong, and I had to explain it, but I could barely speak to him, and I said, 'come over here for a second,' while I was standing in a narrow, enclosed place inside the salad bar area, where he couldn't really see me. He was afraid to come over to me, and he just stood there. I was giving 'anxious' body language, anxious, reluctant, terrified, and unable to speak, so he reflected my anxiety without knowing what was wrong. I asked him if he had taken out the soups, and I explained that they had to be turned off. He was relieved that it was something so silly and unimportant, after all that anxiety. 'I thought you were going to stab me,' he said.

So when I reached for his chest he might have thought the same thing. It surprised him. And a horse will react exactly that same way, if it's a distrusting horse, if it's ever been attacked or abused, or if it's just a high-strung horse that gets startled easily. If you reach up under a horse's head, it can't see your hand very well, and it will lift its head up and back to look at your hand. He looked exactly like that.

I tried to think of a horse-related nickname, something that would be a compliment, something beautiful, like 'wild stallion,' but that wasn't easy to say and didn't feel natural. His nicknames are beautiful compliments, so I tried to follow the same rules he was using. I thought of synonyms for horse and some variations on the name, but didn't think of one that would be natural for me to say.

I can't say any nicknames to him other than 'hey you.' That's the closest I can come to a nickname. 'We were thous' - a line from Shakespeare - we were 'thou' to each other, but you betrayed me - I think it might be Julius Caesar who says it to Brutus, but I'm not sure, it could be anyone. That's where I first learned that the word 'you' (thou) in English is something intimate, that you don't carelessly use the word 'you' to someone in a formal situation, and that using the word 'you' too much can be a form of unwanted sexual harassment, which I've experienced before. I've had guys attracted to me who kept saying 'you this, you that,' and being focused entirely on me, too much, and I didn't like it. I said 'hey you' to him when I first saw him the other day, when he first told me that the store manager was bothering him, when I asked him if he had sent the text message saying to leave him alone. 'Hey you' meant, 'you disrespected me, so I'll disrespect you.' I had to attack him verbally because I was terrified to approach him. 'Hey you' was the best way I could think of to call out to him when I was terrified to speak to him, and feeling hurt and rejected.

I got started on all of that subject because I said that his sexually aroused facial expressions reminded me of the 'disgusted' look that a stallion makes when it smells the urine of a mare in heat.

That evening, or maybe a day or two later, I sent him an email saying it was okay for him to call me the nickname if he wanted to. But I don't know if he has an internet connection right now, and if he can get his email.

I hesitate to call him at home. His wife-to-be is there. She will hear that he's on the phone talking to someone, and they might get into a fight. I'm not trying to cause a fight between them, but I want to talk to him. I've had two phone conversations with him. And I've had a brief conversation in which I told him I would leave him a message because he was at work and I didn't want him to talk on the phone while he was at work.

I've emailed her before, a couple times, and I mentioned that he seemed to be 'leading me on.' She said that he has a way of making women feel special and that I should 'take it as a joke.' But I can't take it as a joke. Everything I feel with him is serious.

This is why I can relate to it when I see Bella and Edward together, unable to touch each other, but desperately wanting to, and afraid that something bad will happen, some rule will be broken, someone will get hurt, some consent will be violated, I will be an evil monster - all of those things will happen if we touch each other and let go and do whatever we want. That is how I feel with him.

I know it sounds strange, but I can read his body language from far across the room. I can't read other people's body language that easily, or I don't care to. It's the opposite of Edward not being able to read Bella. Edward can read everyone else but her. I am able to read every nuance of Curtis's feelings by a quick glance at him from a long distance across the room. I can read his back. His back tells me how he's feeling. The change in the angle, the position, the neck, the shoulders - I can see his tiredness, his loneliness, his 'I'm turning my back on you,' (which I myself did to him the other day, so I know how it feels to do that), - and he hasn't actually turned his back on me very often, but sometimes, every now and then, he has. When we're not looking at each other. I can see it in his back when he feels small and vulnerable and needy. When he looks even smaller than usual. I saw him blushing after I gave him the note - and told him *NOT* to read it right now - where I told him I was attracted to him. The position of his neck, and his blushing face and his ears, told me how he felt, all the way across the room. The way he moves when he walks.

One time, his back said 'touch me.' I had touched his back several times during a period of weeks or months when we were together a lot in the evenings, alone. One time I stroked his back gently because he offered to carry something for me, instead of letting me carry it, because I was sick that day, and I walked behind him through the doors to go back to take out the trash.

It was sometime after that. He stood close in front of me, not far from me, and the shape of his back said he wanted me to stroke his back again. ... And I didn't. I didn't do it. I was terrified, and I wasn't on the right drugs, probably, and I didn't want to sexually harass him or violate his consent. Because if I stroked him, I wouldn't want to stop. That's the same thing Edward is afraid of - if I start, I won't be able to stop, and something bad will happen and I'll hurt you. I wanted to walk up close behind him and put both hands on his back and press against him from behind. I wanted to cup his shoulders in my hands and press my face against his back. I wanted to reach around him and stroke his chest and his belly. He stood right in front of me and his back seemed to invite me to touch him. And I don't want to violate him, or I'll get rejected and hurt very badly.

I'm obsessing about guys, love, sex, and touch, because I haven't eaten breakfast. So I should go eat something. This obsession will go on and on forever, until I eat something. I will always think of one more incident to tell about. So... I'll go do that.

LOL, I tagged this post 'curtis.'  As if that will be a useful tag.  Anybody randomly searching for the name 'curtis' will find this blog.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Amish milk, and a fistful of glitter, and my butt's fat again

7:19 PM 8/16/10

(*This is a very disorganized post, with several different subjects.  I'm probably already suffering from ADD from drinking milk, and from quitting coffee.  I started on a couple subjects, wandered to something else, and never really finished all the things I had meant to talk about... and by the time I was done, I didn't care whether I wrote about all those things or not.  So if you feel like I went on a tangent and never came back, you're right.*)

Why did my butt get fat this month?

changes in drug residues
one tiny sip of milk wasn't enough? maybe it is. maybe one tiny sip causes ovulation later on
but i'm drinking amish milk today and it goes to my butt and breasts instantly; i'll look like i looked in college; i lost my college weight by quitting whole milk
milk is addictive; as soon as i've had one glass, i start craving more later on
i ovulated much more than usual this month for unknown reasons
peter's wellbutrin - maybe wellbutrin triggers ovulation
peter's other new drugs
put vinyl on my car seat, which means i withdrew from sjw; the withdrawal can cause weight gain

I had been wondering where I could buy raw milk.

The milk I get at the grocery stores usually is sour when I buy it. I think it's held at warm temperatures during shipping and handling. It usually makes me sick at my stomach. Even the Meyer Dairy milk made me sick, although it tasted fresh. So I wanted to try fresh raw milk.

I saw a sign near the town of Howard when I was out driving my car. It was next to a little farm, and at the time, I didn't know it was an Amish farm. It said they had fresh raw milk for sale.

A couple weeks ago I finally went there. I drove up the gravel road and saw an Amish man working on fixing something next to the driveway, some wooden thing. I stopped my car and asked him where I could buy the milk, and whether this was a bad time. He told me it was up the hill at the barn, right where they were milking, and he said it was a good time.

After I drove up, a little boy opened the door of the barn. He might have been about seven years old - I'm not sure if I can guess someone's age very well. He asked me if he could help me with anything. We'd never seen each other before, so it was awkward and anxious for both of us. I was on drugs at the time, I think, so I might have had more intense feelings than usual.

I bought a half gallon of milk for $1.50, and got a free little pint of mint tea, which was very good. A half gallon is too much for me, but that was the smallest size.

When he said goodbye to me, he gave me a polite smile that wasn't really a smile.

I only tried a small sip of it. I wasn't sure if it would agree with my stomach. I haven't had milk to drink in years, although I eat cheese and I drink milkshakes. I had some problems with milk a few years ago and stopped drinking it. But if it's very fresh, I might be able to - that was the idea. I tried only a sip, and never finished the half gallon, and I left it in the fridge for days and days and it spoiled.

This time when I drove up and he asked if he could help me, and I wondered if I could buy some milk, he smiled and he was more relaxed and genuine. He recognized me from the last time I was there. He opened the door and he was barefoot. 'We have cheese now,' he said. They had made all different kinds of cheese. I kneeled down and got in the fridge, which was right in the doorway of the barn, while he held the door open. I got a block of Swiss cheese along with my milk and my jug of tea. I thanked him and said I had enjoyed the mint tea last time. He told me they have a concentrate of it, and he opened the freezer door - all you have to do is mix it with water. I didn't buy that, because I don't have a container to put it in, but I might next time I'm there.

I thanked him again.

The feeling I had for this little boy was, 'I love you. I would do anything for you. I'll stay with you and I won't ever leave you.'

I don't have any children. I'm not used to the feelings that children can give you. Children are supposed to make you feel that way.

I've seen hyperactive children, tortured by the poisons of modern society. I was one of them before I got on the Feingold Diet. I see them at McDonald's. A mother was fighting with her son who was having a tantrum as they were leaving. He was screaming and crying. I felt a terrible feeling: 'I hate you. I loathe you. You disgust me.' I know it's not really me that feels that way. I felt sorry for the kid. It was the way he was crying, screaming, and begging his mom to let him keep playing, to not punish him, he promised he wouldn't do it again, PLEASE, I PROMISE, crying and screaming - he HATED himself, I could feel it by listening to him. He hated himself, he loathed himself.

I feel like I would almost marry an Amish man. I am close to being Amish myself in many ways. There are some differences. But I would like to learn how they work. I want to learn how to make a profit on a farm when you aren't using motor-driven tractors or electricity. (They use gas-powered appliances, though - the refrigerator had to be. I'd like to avoid using fossil fuel appliances because I get sick from their fumes.)

I'm different from the Amish because I'm not Christian and I don't think I ever could be. That is the reason for the order of retmeishka.

But I feel that Amish society is closer to being a healthy society than 'English' society. It gives me a model of how things can be, of how a religion can be. I have more respect for the Amish than I do for most English people.

I might find out that I'm too allergic to milk to keep on drinking it; this is only an experiment. I might find that it makes me too fat too quickly, and I'm not exercising enough to burn off the fat. I might find that I'm getting rashes or having other problems. I might find that it's making me hyperactive or ADD. I'm not sure yet how I'll react to drinking a lot of it. I don't have a scale in my bathroom right now, so I can't watch the changes in my weight.

I got a fat butt this month, out of nowhere, for no reason. I wasn't aware of changing my diet. I just suddenly got a very fat butt. I ate McDonald's food a few more times than usual. I was exposed to Peter's Wellbutrin and have been contaminated with it several times. I patched up something that was toxic and was exposing me to St. John's Wort residues, my car seat. All of those things have caused me to have weight changes in the past, and it's always my big butt that I notice first.

It might go away next month, or it might not. If I'm successful at drinking milk, I will probably gain ten or fifteen more pounds, and I'm not used to that. I weighed 145 in college, when I was eating in the cafeteria and drinking several glasses of whole milk every day. I stopped drinking the whole milk, switched to skim, and immediately lost the weight very quickly. I also started taking walks, but I was always taking walks, so that probably didn't explain it - I can't remember when I was walking more and when I was walking less.

So whole milk makes you get fat very quickly. That's all I know. I'm drinking it because of the Weston Price diet, wondering if it will affect my teeth. I've had painful teeth for the past few weeks. Bruxism from St. John's Wort exposure and Wellbutrin exposure - those drugs both make me clench my teeth. I think that's why they're hurting more than usual.

I can't believe this - I just drank a small glass of milk, then another one, and now I'm craving another one. I can't believe how much of it I want to drink. It's really addictive. Now, these are small glasses - less than eight ounces, I think - I'm not sure. Little plastic cups. I'll just drink as much as I crave, and this will be an experiment. I will probably get very fat very quickly. I'll have to buy a scale at Wal-Mart.

There is a sarcastic voice in my head, and I know it's not me, but it says, maybe if I get fat, Curtis will love me. Ha ha. He's dating a girl who looks so much like his mother, from a distance, that the first time I saw her, I thought that's who she was. She is about the same height and weight. 'Pleasantly plump,' and insecure about her weight, as some people have made fun of her and called her 'hippo,' even though she's not really that fat. She will probably lose weight as I think she's moved out of her parents' house - that usually makes people lose weight. Her diet will change and so will her environmental illnesses, whatever drug residues, mold, and anything else might be making people sick in her family's house, if anything is there. She will probably be thin after a while. She's going to be a nurse, a CNA, she said on facebook. She's not using facebook at all anymore, and neither is Curtis - I'm thinking maybe they moved into their own place and they don't have an internet connection at all right now. They don't need to socialize - they have each other. They're getting married.

I talked to him Sunday afternoon when we were both leaving, but we didn't get deep enough into our conversation. I haven't been able to look at him for several weeks, or just barely. I haven't been able to talk to him either, and have had few opportunities. He called out to me as I was walking to my car to leave, and I couldn't really hear him, so I said, 'what?' and looked past the bushes that were blocking my view, and I could see him sitting on the sidewalk waiting for Carrie to pick him up. I walked over to him because I couldn't hear if he was calling for me to come over, or what. I got there, and sat down next to him, and he said, 'I was just saying goodbye.' But I sat there while he smoked. I didn't leave. I felt that I probably should leave.

I had asked him earlier that day, 'Do you remember telling me to leave you alone?' (In a text message, after I had sent him a very long text message.) He said, 'Yes - as friends?' I didn't really understand that, and I started to cry, so I quickly walked away and I said, 'I had to find out whether it was really from you. You know why.' (Because of the hackers and the possibility that someone would be writing things to hurt me that weren't really from him.) I walked away, made it into the deli without crying, and then tried to go back to doing my job, but I couldn't, not for a minute, so I went into the back room of the deli, and I suppressed the sobbing in my throat, and then the tears started coming out. I cried for a minute, but not long, and then I was able to get back to work. I felt depressed and sick for several hours. I was affected by drug residues, but for right now, I will probably keep on being affected by various drugs, because I can't get away from them at the moment, so my feelings will be more intense and they will vary from day to day, with my mood swings.

When I sat next to him on the sidewalk I still remembered that I was leaving him alone. I wouldn't look directly at him, because looking at him is too intense. He is beautiful to me. I love to look into his eyes. I would love to touch him. So I looked at anything but him, and I sat there, cold and serious, talking to him like a 'friend.' We mostly talked about my work schedule, about how many hours I was getting at my two jobs right now. And he said that his life sucked, and every time it seemed like things were going okay, something else bad would happen and mess things up even more. I wanted to know what was going on, but there wasn't enough time to talk deeply. Carrie was on the way. And he asked me how I was doing, and I said, 'It's a long story.' 'I've got time,' he said, and I made a bitter smile, but said nothing. You don't have THIS MUCH time. I would love to tell you. But it's boring and depressing, and nobody understands it but me. For a chronic-fatigued person, most of my life is what happens in the world of my reading and writing on the computer, and the thoughts that I'm thinking while I lie in bed talking to the voices. That is my life. Nothing is really 'happening.' But I would tell you if I had a moment or two to relax. I would tell you a little bit of it. If I could find one tiny bit of hopefulness or something positive in it, I would tell you. I don't want to tell it to you while it's still hopeless and going nowhere. There's nothing you can do.

He told me that the store manager was bullying him - and I use the word 'bullying' because I read an online article about bullying today. Curtis himself didn't use that word. He just said that the store manager was talking to him and doing things to him that made him angry and he was sick of it. I've heard the way he talks to him. Curtis said that the store manager asked Brandon, 'Is Curtis texting?' right after Brandon himself had been texting. Curtis got in trouble for doing something that the department manager had been doing. He was walking around with him telling him what to do and talking to him like a child - I heard him. He said, 'CURTIIIIS.....' in a threatening tone the way you threaten a dog or a child with your voice. He isn't a child. He's a nineteen year old who looks like a young teenager because he has fetal alcohol syndrome, which causes him to be very small. (And that is why a hebephile like myself is so attracted to him.) So you have to talk to him with respect.

It wasn't long, only a couple minutes, that we sat coldly next to each other with a space in between us, not looking directly at each other, talking about things that weren't really deep.

I asked him, 'How did you and Carrie meet each other?' This was something I had wondered for a long time. 'At a party,' he said, and he said nothing else about that.

There are things I want to know. The voices in my head were wondering these things when I was bored at work that day, when I had nothing to do because I was working in the front part of the deli department and we had no customers, so we just stood there, and I stared at things, while standing next to Mary. I had asked Mary how she met her husband. And I wanted to ask, 'What do you think about when you have nothing to do?' Do you stare at the images? Do you contemplate them? Are they beautiful when you contemplate them?  I can't meditate or contemplate because of the zapping - every few seconds, my brain and body get a jolt that wakes me up. I can't focus my mind in the special way that makes you feel flow, the feeling of enjoyment you get from focusing deeply on something. But I didn't ask her that.

And the voices wanted me to ask her if she had ever had a broken heart. I didn't ask that either.

And I wondered if I was the only person who had ever felt this way, because it felt like I was alone in pain. Having a broken heart - it seems like I'm the only one who's ever experienced this. My broken heart is mine and only mine, and no one else knows what it's like. There are universal feelings that other people feel, even people you dislike, people who have nothing in common with you. They get broken hearts too and it hurts them the same way. So I wondered if anyone else on earth had ever had a broken heart.

I heard 'glitter in the air' on the way home. That might have been a puppet incident, I don't know, but it was an appropriate song. Have you ever...? Have you ever done this, or felt this way? Have you ever experienced this?

I didn't get to ask Curtis those questions. We talked about my work schedule. He said he would have a couple days off. Then Carrie showed up and he left.

He said, 'It was nice talking to you.'

Then I went to my car and got ready to go to work at McDonald's.

I'm working in the mornings. I'll see him more often. Just having him there near me makes me feel good, even if we don't get to talk. It's not like it used to be, when he worked evenings, alone, and he often came over and chatted for many minutes (when he wasn't supposed to). Or he'd ask for my help. It didn't matter what we did, we were spending time together, and sometimes I was able to open up and tell him things. He doesn't work evenings anymore. That's probably best. It's hard for him to get all the work done when he's alone in the evenings, but in the day, he has other people there, and they can make sure he gets his work done. It's easier when other people are around. I don't want him to lose his job. And the way the store manager has been bugging him lately, he is at risk, especially if something happens, like an unexcused call-off. If he leaves, it will break my heart - I will grieve, I will get over it - but I will feel like there's no reason for me to work there anymore. I don't love anyone there the way I love him. I don't look forward to anything but him.

How am I different?

How am I different from other bloggers talking about mind control and electronic harassment? How am I different from other websites about this subject? How am I different from sites talking about electromagnetic hypersensitivity?

How are we alike?


1. less disorganized and rambling than, for instance, Eleanor White
2. less angry
3. not suffering as badly as some, for instance, aussietargetted
4. not advocating government force
5. libertarian, objectivist, 'simonist', having strong belief systems that are non-mainstream but still respected
6. having an idea of what to do about it
7. less technical than Eleanor White or or some sites listed by AJH (tiworld)
8. not 'spiritual' voices that I hear, not paranormal
9. knowledge of skin poisoning and drug residues, and how they affect your response to being attacked, and how they affect moods and behavior and health
10. not all symptoms are directly caused by attacks, although the attackers may be capable of causing those symptoms
11. not as upset, not as afraid or scared, as some sites


1. nothing useful has actually been done
2. still mostly focused on suffering
3. common experiences similar to, for instance,
4. the belief that something is wrong with the world, and the mainstream doesn't know about it or is forbidden to talk about it


1. Use the lingo of the target audience. Use the 'Voldemort is real' or 'He's back' concept, for instance, when talking to Harry Potter fans. Use 'John Galt', 'Galt's Gulch,' etc when talking to Objectivists. Learn the lingo, don't reject it, don't make fun of it. Accept it and use it to mean something similar to your own beliefs. Show them that you have this belief in common, although it goes by a different name. Each belief cluster has its own lingo. 'SHTF' is 'shit hits the fan,' one of the acronyms of the survivalists. Learn these words, acronyms, story characters, and so on. Respect the groups, do not have contempt for them, do not talk down to them. Each belief, each character, each word and phrase, is meaningful to them and important to them. They all feel like this special phrase or idea is theirs alone. The beliefs all have in common: 'Something is wrong with the world, and the mainstream isn't aware of it.' This is common through all the belief clusters I want to target. It isn't on TV, it isn't being taught in our public schools, it's taboo to talk about it in a social situation, and so on.

2. Some of my belief clusters include, but are not limited to: breastfeeding, anti-circumcision, natural childbirth, attachment parenting, Weston Price diet, Feingold Diet, adoption, survivalist, self-reliance, home business, homeschooling, anti-fiat money (or 'real money' or 'free market banking'), objectivist, libertarian, anarchist, julian simon (find others similar to those = many others may not be your enemies), intentional communities, touch deprivation, nudism, drug-free, long hair and natural hair

3. What are 'belief clusters?' Belief clusters are groups of beliefs and practices that tend to be found together on the internet. If you go to a web page of someone who has one of the beliefs, they tend to link to other pages that have some of the other beliefs. Each belief group leads to other belief groups. One example: Libertarians usually list Ayn Rand as one of their favorite authors. But you're not likely to find certain belief clusters side by side on the same web page. You wouldn't find a person advocating circumcision and also opposing circumcision on the same page, although you might find some links to pages advocating circumcision if somebody is arguing or explaining both points of view. I'm talking about someone who actually HOLDS that belief, not just linking to a page to argue or explain something.

I thought it was interesting that one of the Objectivist websites was advocating war in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was based on the concept of 'War on evil ideas.' The idea is, we can kill Muslims because they have evil ideas. Everyone in that religion has this evil idea, so we have to go kill them to stop the evil idea virus from taking over the world. So I was surprised to find pro-war and Objectivism linking together. I think it was TOC, The Objectivist Center, but I'm not sure, and I'd have to look again.

4. Which belief clusters might go together? Some examples.

People who believe in attachment parenting might be more likely to believe that something is wrong with society, and they might explain it by referring to their own beliefs about how children are raised. Something is wrong with society because children aren't raised right; that's why there are so many social problems today.

People who like long hair on men might be more aware of gender roles in society, how men are expected to look and behave, and they might tend to be more aware that there is 'something wrong with society' because of this. These people won't be strongly in favor of men going into traditional roles, because in our culture, the traditional man is a short-haired man. If they come from some other cultural background where long-haired men are traditional, then of course they might have traditional beliefs.

(I want retmeishka to *BE* the new tradition (within our group). In retmeishka, the long-haired bearded man is a normal, traditional man. Short hair is a rebellion against retmeishka, or a sign that you are an outsider or from another tribe. And I'm not joking about 'The Rainbow Mohawk Tribe.' The rainbow mohawk tribe is the group of people who are bored with traditional hairstyles and jewelry and clothing, so they too have a feeling that 'something is wrong with society' or 'the normal society isn't good enough somehow.' Some of them will be our friends even though their style is the opposite of ours. These are the piercings/tattoos/exotic hairstyles people, the opposite of my 'all natural' style.)

Intentional communities and touch deprivation might go together. People who want a totally different community sometimes feel that our touch-deprived society is harmful, and they want touch to be a social norm. Supposedly, the United States is a less touchy society than others. I know from personal experience how desperately I want to touch people and how afraid I am that something bad will happen, like rejection, or a sexual harassment claim, or getting fired from my job.

So you use these belief clusters to link to other people who have something in common with you, people who might understand you better than the mainstream, people who might respond to your advertising.

Those are only a few examples. There are hundreds of other links between belief clusters.

5. Which belief clusters should we avoid?

I was thinking about hackers. Some hackers are anarchists in the sense that they hate ALL authority and rebel against it. There are different ways of hating authority and rules. There are some types of rebellion that are more destructive than others.

Some 'script kiddies' on the internet might actually be young children in the real world, and they will do things that are immature and childish *because* they are children.

I'm thinking of Chuck Palahniuk and Project Mayhem. I've been to his website and seen the people posting there. Some of those people might be desperately seeking *something* to hold onto, and they might be good people who just need to see some healthier alternative. Some of them are on drugs. Some of them might be people who really do want to destroy things for entertainment. I want to look at sites like that and get a feel for the people there and the culture and what we might have in common with something that I personally find ... unpleasant. I didn't enjoy looking at that website and I didn't really enjoy reading the books, but all the same, 'Fight Club' made me feel something, and it's the 'something is wrong with society' feeling.

I don't want to encourage the 'angry Christians' cluster. I don't want to be talking about killing large numbers of people or getting vengeance. We're not focused on vengeance, we're focused on problem solving. I don't care about suffering and punishment, I just want the attacks to stop.

Discourage anything having to do with suicide. So I'd be talking about Inception and the 'commit suicide while dreaming' concept, and emphasize that we oppose suicide, and that it will be good enough to die when we're 100 years old, and you can wait till then. Suicide might only be okay for people who are in intolerable, constant pain with some incurable disease, and that kind of thing. But there are too many careless, impulsive, drug-induced suicides committed by people whose problems could be solved with knowledge.

The theme for the last few days has been 'Nicole is a So/Sp instinctual type.' So they are looking at my political ideas and my sense of the group and my 'dignity'. They are showing more sympathy for the 'social climber' persona because Harry Browne would have been this type, but he was loved by millions of people. He wasn't a 'soulless robot' at all.

So that's why I'm using some of the commonly used Wordpress tags today from their list of tags.  I don't normally use them because I usually feel a rebellion against anything described as 'most common' or 'popular,' and instead I tag my blogs with things like 'mind control' so that they can be found by people who are searching for those terms.  I don't normally use the general terms... but today I will.

Friday, August 13, 2010

my work schedule

Yes, I did recently change my work schedule, and I am working longer days and more hours.  It's going to be like this for a while.

Why not do something useful?

If you want to mess with somebody's sleep cycle, then why not do something useful instead of attacking me.  Why not do an 'Inception'-style dream hypnosis on all the government employees in the IRS and tell them to get the idea to shut down the IRS and end the income tax.  Or give someone the idea, whoever is in power, to free the banking system instead of forcing us to use fiat money - let us choose our own currency in the free market without government controls.  No taxes, and no fiat money, would make a huge difference in everyone's quality of life, and it might prevent me from dying in a car accident on my way to work at my two jobs.  Do something useful.  Waking me up after short naps is not useful, it is harmful.  I don't care what I'm dreaming about, I want to sleep the whole night uninterrupted.  If I do fall asleep while driving and have an accident, it will indeed be murder instead of my own negligence, and somebody should be charged with murder.

Dear Murderers

Waking me up after a short nap, instead of letting me sleep the entire night until my alarm wakes me up, on a night when I am working a thirteen or fourteen hour day (because the IRS takes all our money and the banking system causes land prices and rent to go up and up, so I barely have enough to get by), is a sure way to make me fall asleep while driving, have an accident, and die.

I don't care if I have to pee while I'm asleep.  I don't care if I'm thirsty while I'm asleep.  I want to sleep the whole night uninterrupted instead of taking short naps and then being forced awake.  If I do not sleep in my bed, then I will sleep while I drive my car, and that is murder, because I'm not waking up by myself, I'm being forced awake, which leads to the obvious consequences of falling asleep while driving.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010


8:21 PM 8/11/10

I visited Peter in the hospital today. They did an operation on the artery in his left leg to improve the blood flow to his foot. He says that the pain has been greatly reduced.

I have a bunch of different things to say, but I don't know if I'll be able to say them all.

the dream
edward cullen
curtis (that's always in the list of topics)

I saw the movie Inception. I liked it and I might see it again. Somehow it didn't 'push my buttons' in quite the right way to make me feel strong emotions. It might be because there was too much music throughout the whole movie, constantly. I like it to be a little quieter. If I watch it again, maybe I'll figure out why it didn't quite work for me.

There are people who create every dream that I dream every night, just like in that movie. But it's not just one dream, and it's not to accomplish some big important purpose. I am just an ordinary person and there is no big purpose other than to entertain some people who are using software and equipment for purposes that they shouldn't be using it for. I don't know what kind of software or what methods they use to create my dreams, but I do know that all of my dreams are fake. I don't know when was the last time I had a real dream. They are doing it for harassment reasons, for entertainment, and probably, because somebody somewhere paid them to destroy my life, for unknown reasons.

I am familiar with something - I could relate to the victim, the target, in that movie - the guy whose corporation they wanted to break up. When he reconciled with his father, it was supposed to be a big, emotionally moving moment, something deep and wonderful and special. But it was fake, and it was done for somebody's purpose, and that purpose had nothing to do with helping that guy to develop himself spiritually. That guy thought that he was experiencing spiritual development, spiritual growth, by realizing that he shouldn't be like his father. But it was all fake and manipulated. My experiences are just like that. I had fake religious experiences when I was doing therapy with Judith Swack, and they were so fake and cheesy that I couldn't possibly have ever believed they were real. I don't know what her OTHER clients experienced, but if theirs was as fake and cheesy as mine was, then there must be a lot of other disillusioned people like me - I can't imagine ANYONE would believe it.

I think it was last night that I sent an email to Curtis. 'They' gave me a dream when I took a nap afterwards. Supposedly, he was grateful to receive the email. So they gave me a sexual dream. I'm actually not really angry about this particular dream. It was sort of cute. But I have to explain the story behind it.

The voices called me the 'COW' - Creepy Old Woman - as a joke, because I don't look really old, and sometimes, young guys find me attractive - though I haven't actually hooked up with any of them yet. So when we say that I'm the 'COW', we don't really mean it, it's a joke. (But when I get an email from Curtis on MySpace, which he claims he doesn't remember sending, because he was drunk all that week, and the email says that I'm 35 years old and it gives him the creeps, THAT, on the other hand, is NOT funny, and in fact, it hurt me very badly and I haven't forgotten it. As usual I question whether he really sent the email or whether it was from the hackers.)

*taboo alert* - I've been paying attention, in the last 24 hours, to my feeling of anxiety whenever I talk about a social taboo. Anytime I say some theory or belief of mine that I know most of society disagrees with, I feel this sense of anxiety, and it's exactly like in the movie, Inception, where all the 'subconscious projections' suddenly turn their heads and look directly at you, because they've detected an intruder. I get that feeling that all of society turns its hundred million hostile faces towards me, when I speak of a social taboo. There is danger in speaking a taboo. You can get committed to a mental hospital. You can get convicted of harassment or other crimes. You can lose your job. You can destroy your reputation. Many dangerous things can happen to a person who speaks a social taboo. 'We' have been paying attention to my social instinct in the last few days, as we study my Ichazo's Instinctual Stackings. The social instinct seeks protection and empowerment within larger social groups, and it fears displacement of your social position or harm to your reputation.

The taboo was: Hackers, unknown people, are reading my email, watching everything I do on my computer, and interfering with my life, for their own malicious reasons. They interfere with my emails, and I have gotten emails claiming to be from a particular person but which were written in a different style, as though some other person wrote it. This is all taboo - you can't just walk out on the street and talk about this with the average person. They will think it's a conspiracy theory and you're delusional. Hackers, however, and other groups of people, might agree with you, because they know it's possible, and they know people are malicious enough to do that. So some specific groups of people will believe you. That's my opposite of the hundred million hostile faces. For every million hostile faces, there are a million smiling faces somewhere else. You just have to find them.

So anyway, I am the COW. And because I'm the COW, Curtis is 'the bull.' So in the dream, they portrayed him as a black bull. Why was he black? Because he's another Angus cow, like I am. I'm an Angus cow, because I'm not a dairy cow: I don't have big boobs. And the Angus cows are beef cows, which means they're meant to be eaten. So that's why he was a black bull. Come to think of it, he doesn't have big boobs either. He was a rather small black bull, the size of a large dog, and he had long soft pettable fur, not like the usual fur on a cow or bull. I was sitting in my front yard at the house in West Virginia. That's probably because I was writing a note about my father's money, wondering about how much I will inherit someday (and may that be a long, long way off, I'm not rushing it). So that's why I was at that house, because I guess my brother John and I will inherit the house.

So this black bull runs up to me, and I get scared of it, because who wouldn't be scared when a big, scary, dangerous animal runs up to you. It laid down on its back in the 'submissive' position and wanted me to rub its belly. And I know which incident this is referring to. That was the time when, not too long ago, I was getting soup from the soup bar and Curtis came up to me and stood very close and called me some erotic words including the f-word and magnetically pulled me towards him to touch him. But instead I started laughing, the worst possible thing I could have ever done, and I lost an opportunity. So in the dream I didn't start laughing, I just rubbed the bull's belly like I was supposed to, and then I was jerking him off - I could feel the soft-hard skin sliding under my hand - and (I can't write this) he came on my leg, and I moaned when he came. And then he was relaxed and peaceful.

Then in the next dream he was a 'dragon,' and I've already blogged about the dragon some time ago. Curtis also has a dragon decal on his car. The dragon was dignified and serious and unapproachable - different from the black bull in the other dream. I think he was a pale, lavender purple color, but I'm not sure. I don't know why he was that color. The dragon was talking to me, unlike the bull, who said nothing, and the dragon told me things that I can't remember - I never can remember what they say in the dreams. Somehow I ended up climbing up on the dragon's head and then massaging its neck, all the way down its back, and I had something on my hands, something slippery like shampoo. I was stroking the dragon's back and I don't remember how it ended. I think I slid down its tail and landed on the floor. That was because I've touched Curtis's back once in a while in the real world, and I tried to tell him that these were not just casual, friendly touches, because I never touch anybody - I was touching him because I was sexually attracted to him, and all of the touching was sexual, not friendly.

Like I said, I didn't get mad about the dreams, because they were actually sort of cute and enjoyable.

I'm reading Twilight. When I told my brother I had seen the movie and I liked the soundtrack, he had a sort of 'ick' reaction, and I understood - originally I felt the same way. He had heard that the movies weren't very good. Actually, I myself feel that the movies weren't very well done, but I'm reading the books now and I like the books better, I think. They are not a life-changing masterpiece but I'm enjoying them. And I will probably enjoy them more as I go along. I didn't like Harry Potter at first, either, and before I read it, I was very strongly anti-Potter because it was so popular, and, in my experience, if something is very popular, it's something I won't like. I have an almost physical instinct to avoid everything that's popular, and look for little-known, esoteric, obscure things that nobody else has found. Still, now that I've read Harry Potter, and now Twilight, I'm in with the popular crowd on this opinion. But I can't use those books to tell me whether or not I'll like somebody. If somebody tells me that they like Harry Potter, I still might not like them overall as a person.

Anyway, Edward Cullen laughs at Bella a lot in the first book. It happened often enough that I noticed it. I wondered about this because I have accidentally laughed at Curtis several times and felt terrible about it. It usually ruined some opportunity or destroyed the trust that he feels for me.

Something that I'm feeling while I read the book is a frustration that they can't spend enough time together, and instead, they just have these special moments, with big spaces in between where they don't see each other enough. I know *exactly* how that feels.

I don't remember what specifically I was going to say about MySpace. I've been trying to socialize, to meet people online, and I'm only doing it little by little. I don't like meeting new people whenever I still have an obsession with one specific person in my mind, someone who looks more beautiful and more attractive to me than all these other people I'm meeting. And I'm afraid that I'll abandon them, the new people I meet, if Curtis gives me the slightest sign of being friendly, if he gives me any hope of a relationship outside work.

I think I'll post this now. The title turned out to be somewhat ironic. It's not really about socializing.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

A Dull and Boring Soul?

5:57 PM 8/10/10

I am in coffee withdrawal again. I have a splitting headache. This headache is much worse than it was the last time I quit coffee. I'm quitting coffee because I've been drinking tons and tons of it every day to help with my chronic fatigue. And I've been drinking coffee instead of eating food. And I've got some cavities developing in my teeth. Last time I quit coffee, my teeth gradually remineralized and stopped hurting, so I'm doing that again. But I can't get anything done.

There is a torture going on about my Ichazo's instinctual type. It wouldn't matter if I weren't fighting with the voices. If I were free to be myself, then I would be able to express my soul to the world - it's something I would have learned to do over the years. They're wondering if I'm a sp/so instead of sp/sx, because of how difficult it is for me to relate to other people, to bond deeply with them, to attract them, to express myself to them. They're always wanting to change my instinctual type - this is nothing new. They're saying that I have the 'coldness' in my personality instead of the warmth and charisma that the sx instinct gives you. I don't know how I'd behave if I were free, like I said, but yes, I do have a cold, formal dignity that gets in the way of sexual expression and openness.

I remember something someone wrote on a forum about the instincts. It was a sp/so type who complained about the stereotypes about that instinctual stacking. She said, 'I'm not just a coupon-clipping worker bee!' I agree with her. I have a soul. I have feelings. I have a desire to bond with someone and to love them deeply. I watch movies, and I listen to music, and I respond strongly to them if they're done right, and if they're done badly, I can't stand them, or if they express ideas that I hate, then I can't stand them.

I can give an example of something I'd never do. There's a lady at McDonald's who acts like someone who has a strong sx instinct in her personality. She isn't really beautiful - I don't like to insult people if I don't have any reason to insult them, and I don't dislike her, so I don't really want to describe all the ways that she's ugly instead of beautiful. Just take my word for it that she isn't beautiful, she is somewhat ugly, by most people's standards. But she has a husband, if I understand correctly, and children. And a few days ago, one of the other guys who works there had come in to work, and when she saw him, she moaned, 'Ooooh, it's Jeremy,' and she looked up at him in a seductive way. Then she said, 'Have you lost weight? Every time I see you you seem to be getting thinner.' He said that yes, he had been losing weight.

I can't imagine myself openly flirting with anyone like that, ever. Lack of confidence, partly. Partly because it just seems unnatural for me. Even if I am sure that someone is attracted to me, I can't say things like 'oooh, it's Jeremy', just because I can't talk that way. It's almost physically impossible for me to talk that way.

There is a sort of dignity that gets in the way, and a feeling that it is too special, too sacred, too vulnerable, to express myself that way out loud. There is something too direct about it, too exposed, - and maybe if I weren't being listened to and spied on by murderers who make a big, huge deal out of anything sexual, then it wouldn't be so difficult for me. It's something that you absolutely must *not* make a big deal out of. If you do, it gets destroyed instantly. When the murderers attack me they always attack me about things that are sexual. They zap me the most when I'm trying to be close to somebody and enjoy the moment with them. It's like their goal is to prove that I am soulless and therefore it's okay for them to destroy my life.

I've been reading Twilight. I never read those books before. I saw the movie Eclipse and so I decided to start reading the books. Everyone likes to read about people who have 'dark secrets,' like Edward being a vampire. But I was comparing that with myself. I have dark secrets too; why doesn't anybody like my dark secrets? Because my dark secrets are dark, BAD secrets. Mind control is real. We are all potentially its victims, although some people are attacked more than others, while many people are mostly ignored. Usually, this is something you don't need to know. If they're not attacking you, then you don't need to even be bothered with somebody's else's problem of electronic harassment. That person is just unusual and unlucky and they must have done something to make somebody mad at them. There is no good side to that secret.

But the 'dark secrets' in these books, like Edward being a vampire, or reality being a Matrix, or Harry Potter being a wizard, always have a good side to the dark secret. You're a vampire, but it's really cool because you can live forever and have special powers. The world is a matrix, but if you learn how to manipulate it, you can do amazing things that nobody else can do. You're a wizard, and you're different from everybody around you, but, once again, you have special powers, and you have a whole community of people supporting you.

My dark secrets don't really have a good side. So I was trying to figure out what 'special powers' I have that would make somebody want to know my dark secrets. There is one thing that I can do. I know about saving money and I know about a frugal lifestyle. If you question the way you spend money, if you question everything about money, then you can save enough money that you can work fewer hours at your job. And if you work fewer hours at your job, then you can actually spend time doing things that matter to you. You can spend time with your family, or working on hobbies and projects, or just doing nothing and relaxing and having fun. I have spent years learning all about money and how it works. So if you are trapped, working too many hours at a job you hate, I am the person you want to get to know, because I sympathize with your problem and I know there are ways we can solve that problem.

So that is the result of fighting with the voices about my 'boring' self-preservation instinct, and what could possibly be good and exciting about it. It really is exciting if you can control your finances and quit working so many hours after you change your lifestyle. You can have the things you want in life instead of just wishing for them. My 'special power' is power over money.

They have been giving me this feeling a lot: that I'm boring, that nobody wants to know me, and that my soul, if it exists, is worthless to everyone. Somebody out there is pushing a button on a machine to give me that specific feeling, and they've been pushing that button a lot lately.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

I wish I could help you with removing your dental fillings.

People seem to love my post about "At-Home Dental Filling Removal."  I even received a random hostile comment about it, and I don't get very many comments, so a random hostile comment is a big event.  I described how I used a drill bit which I held in my hand as I tried to remove the plastic fillings from my two filled cavities - and how it barely made a scratch.  It's one of my most popular posts, along with my comment about Yulia Tymoshenko's hair braid, which looks fake.  Everyone else wants to know the same thing - is it fake?  We may never know.

I should use MySpace for real

(I accidentally never published this post.  It was in my 'drafts' section.)

I've considered doing that for a long time now.  I could make a separate profile that my friends and family don't see.  Then I'd take some REAL pictures and let people see them.  I was looking there and I can see lots of barely legal and not yet legal 'little boys' that I could be friends with.  This is because I don't have a reliable way to communicate with the one person who I *do* want to see.

It's hard to do anything when I have chronic fatigue.  And I'm trying not to use St. John's Wort anymore, but back when I was using it, computer projects like that were easy to do.

Sometimes I ask, 'What will you do differently next time?'  I've been unable to communicate with Curtis, so I have to ask what I'll do next time to make sure that I'm able to reach him (the next person I try to bond with) without worrying about hackers, intercepted text messages, un-returned phone calls, and everything else.

'They', the voices, have been doing something this week - they've been telling me that Curtis quit his job.  I don't know if they're telling the truth, or if they're only saying that to scare me and upset me, because I told him (in an email) that I was going to look for someone else on the dating website so that I could leave him alone.  I don't know if he really did quit, but I know he's talked about it before, at times like these, when they cut people's hours.  He needs a second job.  He has to pay his child support.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Brother John

8:23 AM 8/6/10

My brother visited yesterday and we ate lunch at Aunt Jeannie's. He wondered why I had dropped off the face of the earth, so I told him that actually, I've been writing Retmeishka. So he is here now. Welcome John.

Talking to John brought me back to life again. When somebody comes in from outside, and they're different from all the people around you - I thought of the girl, and I can't remember what her name was, who tried to tell Truman Burbank the truth - Sylvia. She told Truman that yes, the world around you is crazy and there's something wrong with everybody. And he never forgot her because of that. That's how I felt when my brother talked to me yesterday. I remembered that yes, there IS something wrong with this world, and there is more to life than just this, and there are people out there who understand.

I asked John a few questions.

1. How can you stand to move from place to place and leave behind all the people you know?
2. Other questions about dating and love

It was hard to articulate what I wanted to ask him, but he told me enough that I could get a sense of it.

I 'ended up' in State College. I decided to stay here because I was sick of moving around all the time, going back and forth to college every year, and because I had moved several times in my childhood too, so I didn't have 'roots' - I don't use that word, but it means, I didn't know all the people around me really well since birth. I thought it would be better to stay in one place even if I didn't like it here, so that I could focus on other goals, like financial independence.

John has moved from city to city in his adulthood. He has lived in Ithaca, NY, Boston, MA, Tucson, AZ, New York, NY, State College, PA, and maybe a few other places I've forgotten.

He says that in the big city, New York, you can find every kind of deviant. Every strange, weird person can be found there. I've been frustrated lately with the people living in this area - not enough people able to understand me. I told him that I wouldn't feel comfortable living in the city because I don't like to live with too much concrete and asphalt and exhaust fumes - I like to have trees and grass around me. So I don't know if I would be happy in the city even if I could find people who understood me.

(The murderers are still doing 'delusion support' for Curtis, telling me things like, he's only with Carrie as a way to make me jealous, but he doesn't really love her, and *I* am everything to him.)

(My mind has some iron law of consent. I've asked him for consent many times in many ways, and haven't gotten an official answer. He is an adult and he is capable of speech and writing. If he were a baby, he could not give consent to be touched, and we would assume that he needs to be touched and picked up the way babies do. But as he is an adult, it's almost impossible for me to break my 'explicit consent' rule and just start touching him and assume it's okay. The voices like that idea, but I can't force myself to break the 'explicit consent' rule unless I'm on drugs.)

(They've been making it almost impossible for me to even *think* about leaving him, and when I do, I get attacked with 'delusion support,' false ideas and false beliefs about Curtis that are used to make me hang on to him and not give up.  They tell me that he reads my blog, for instance, when actually, I think he hates reading - he hates ALL reading - and he told me in a text message that he doesn't spend much time on the internet.  But they still make me feel like he reads my blog, and I know he doesn't.  No matter how much I try to tell them that he hates reading, and that he doesn't care enough about me to be curious about my blog, they still insist that he's watching everything I do online.  That's one of those delusions made to make me think that I have to keep trying to get him to talk to me.  In reality, he and Carrie are sitting at home in front of the television.  Television is their universe.  He doesn't know my world.  And he doesn't care enough to find out about it.)

I asked John about how he could leave behind his girlfriends when he moved from place to place. He has moved around mostly because of needing to find new jobs in his field, and also, he is paying child support. So he has to have high-paying jobs.

He says that every girlfriend he has ever had is still in his mind. And I know exactly how that is. I can list every boy I had a crush on all the way back in elementary school. I can list all the guys I've kissed, although there might be one or two incidents where somebody kissed me and I don't remember it - I think I remember sitting with some guy on a bus a few years ago when I was going to Washington DC or someplace, as part of a temp job assignment, and I think he might have kissed me once. So I might forget things like that. But everyone I've actually dated is still in my mind. And I still remember some people who I had only one 'incident' with, like the guy who put hickeys all over my neck when I kissed him at a party where everyone else was drunk except me, because I went along to a party with my co-workers from Gino's Pizza in West Virginia, when I didn't drink. I never saw that guy again either and I didn't really care.

John said it hurts the most when they break up with you and refuse to speak to you ever again. I know how that is. Martin ignored my messages and blocked me on Facebook and did everything possible to stop speaking to me, although I've sometimes thought he might still read my blog. I've talked many times about the incidents of being forced to try to contact somebody who refuses to speak to me or acknowledge that I exist.

He said that online dating made it possible for him to find much higher quality relationships. There were people who it would have been impossible to find in the real world if all you could do was meet friends-of-friends or go sit in bars.

He isn't having any more children, so for him, having a relationship is something you do for the sake of enjoying the relationship. I am planning to have children, but right now I would like to date some people that I'm not having kids with first. And 'they' redirected my attention towards the younger men, so that is the kind of relationship that I'm looking for right now. But when I am looking for someone to have children with, I have to think of things differently than I would if I were enjoying a relationship for its own sake. I see people who I could have a medium-length relationship with, but if I am thinking about having children and giving them a stable family life, then I must think about someone who I can stand to be with for several decades. I like it that my mother and father are still together. There is a feeling of safety and stability there, even though I don't see them having a *passionate* love relationship. And I know what passionate love would feel like, if only in my imagination, because I've had enough experiences with female friends who I 'merged' with, not sexually, but in conversations and in understanding each other, that I can imagine what it would be like to merge with a male friend who was also a lover.

John said something I was familiar with. He said when you meet new people it keeps your mind alive. You always learn something from them, from who they are, from what they know. That is what I want to enjoy doing. I don't want to just talk *to* somebody, I want them to talk to me. I want to learn from them. I want to see how they see the world.

There was a question that I couldn't really articulate to him. I have weak bonds with everyone around me, everyone I work with. I think it would be painful to break those weak bonds too, even though they are people who I don't really know and don't really like. It hurts me to leave behind 'familiar faces,' and I have done that many times before, because I have lost jobs and I have had temp jobs that were never meant to be permanent. It always hurts to leave, even though those people didn't understand me and never would have.

But Peter is the main reason why I don't leave. If he were physically healthy and taking care of himself, I wouldn't feel so bad about leaving. If he were online, like if he had his own MySpace page, as pathetic as that might be, I wouldn't feel so bad. Maybe I should show him some of the internet forums and social networking pages. It was Eric's daughter Tiana who made me make a MySpace page to begin with. I didn't really want to be on MySpace. But I'm glad I know about it now.

John made me feel like I could survive the grief of losing a relationship. He has left many people in his life. He has lost many relationships.

There is something that you can learn. It could be a good thing, or a bad thing to learn this. When someone goes to war, and they see people die, they learn to survive the non-uniqueness of all people. It's hard to explain. Relationships can be that way too. You can understand that people are not unique, and that this one person you love isn't the only person you will ever love for the rest of your life. But it's traumatic to learn that. That's why there is the religious belief about never having sex before marriage, and then, marrying only one person who you will be with for the rest of your life, and never being unfaithful to them. It's not just because of preventing sexually transmitted diseases, although that is one of the most important reasons to do that. It's because you protect yourself against the traumatic knowledge that people are non-unique, that love can happen again, that you can survive losing someone.

That knowledge can be harmful in some situations. For instance, I've read about adopted children. Sometimes they get the realization that they can 'choose who their parents are.' They then develop a sort of dating relationship attitude about finding themselves the perfect parents. They realize that the adoptive parents they have aren't the ONLY adoptive parents on earth, and they could choose better ones. It makes them bond less deeply with the adoptive parents they have. It makes it hard to bond with anyone at all. You have to be able to form some kind of stable bond with somebody. If you realize that people are non-unique, and if that realization is the strongest center of everything that you feel about people, then it will always seem like you can quickly leave one person and go to the next and nothing ever matters and nobody will ever be with you for very long at all. There are different time periods that this feeling can be set for. It can be a day, a week, a month, a year, or five years. My relationships have all lasted quite a few years, but none of them have been permanent marriages. Moving from place to place in my childhood probably affected how I view the idea of permanent, lifelong bonds with people, although lots of other people have moved around in their lives and they are still able to marry someone and form a lifelong bond with them.

I compared this to the feeling about death, which comes from being a soldier and going to war. Every body that you see around you is able to die. When you see people dying in war, and when you yourself have killed them, you have a violated feeling, a knowledge, which says 'You're able to do that.' You've crossed that line, and you survived, and you're able to. You've killed a person. You could kill any of the people around you, and you'd survive. Although actually what happens is the soldiers get on psychiatric drugs and they kill a bunch of people and then kill themselves. But I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about a traumatized feeling that you have after killing someone in a war, where, even if you're not on drugs, you still feel a sense that everyone around you is able to be killed, and you feel differently about all relationships forever because of that.

If it becomes 'too easy' to kill people, or to break up with people you love, or to move from town to town, then you have an unstable life and you cannot get past the 'deepness limit.' There is deepness, and there is also stagnation. In a long-term marriage, you can get past challenges and problems, and have a deeper relationship because of it. Or you can endure the problems and challenges and unhappiness, but not really have a deeper relationship because of it, and you just deny the unhappiness and stagnation and lack of life. So you aren't always getting a deeper relationship merely because you stay with someone forever.

But there really is a 'deepness limit' where you can gain something valuable if you go past that boundary. I am thinking of an example that happened with me and Rachael, my best friend, a long time ago. Whenever we were together, I would gradually become exhausted, and after a while, I would need to be alone. One day Rachael insisted that she would stay with me even though I told her I was tired and I needed to be alone. So I broke the rules of rudeness and kindness and I showed her my irritability and my bad mood and my meanness, because that is what you get if you stay with me whenever I want to be alone. (That is the reason why I rage at the voices, and talk about killing them, and that kind of thing. The murderers are continuing to interact with me whenever I need to be alone.) There was a limit to how long I could stand to be with her without breaking a rule. If I stayed with her longer, eventually I would break the rule of 'be nice.' I would become irritable and I would express my irritability out loud by being mean and unkind and saying whatever I wanted to say.

Except it wasn't that simple. In reality I become sort of quiet and withdrawn. The murderers, zapping and torturing me, have often pretended that they are masochists who want to be yelled at and who want me to kill them, or, in reality, they want to fantasize that I'm going to kill them without it really happening. You have to use certain kinds of drugs and certain kinds of torture to make somebody yell at you if that's a person who has a 'rule' that says, don't yell at people. I have been a mind control victim for several years now and when I think of this subject, I feel sadness, and I feel traumatized. But it's the same thing people are doing whenever they have domination/submission relationships, or sadomasochistic relationships. You break the rules, and you bring out other parts of yourself, and you say things you're usually forbidden to say, and feel things you're usually forbidden to feel. Because of my being tortured against my will, without consent, I still can't feel comfortable right now about exploring certain kinds of sexual relationships. But if I were not being traumatized, I would. It's different when it's being done to you against your will, and it's every moment of every day, every second of your life. I did not consent to this. If I could stop them from doing it, I would.

There are longer-lasting behavior changes besides merely saying something mean to somebody because you're allowed to break the 'be nice' rule. You can have more valuable personality changes than that. Sometimes people try to break bad habits forever - stop drinking alcohol and never drink it again. Religious people probably try to do that more than other people do - they try to make their mates more perfect, to make them stop all bad habits in general, like procrastination, or try to make their mates get a better job. You can do 'self-improvement' type changes like that in a long-term relationship, especially if your bad habit was the result of not having enough support in your life. Alcoholism can happen more easily if you're malnourished, if you never cook for yourself, if you never eat any healthy food, so if you get a mate who cooks for you and you eat three healthy meals a day, it might be easier to stop using alcohol forever.

I would mention self-acceptance here too. Sometimes there are things about ourselves that we don't necessarily like, but they are a stable part of who we are, and very difficult to change, and all we can do is accept that those things exist. That has to happen in a long-term relationship too.

John said that he knows how it feels to love someone so much that you can tolerate their cheating on you. You love them so much that you would just want to know why they cheated on you, and did they enjoy it, and what did they gain from it, and you can still stay with them afterwards.

I like talking to John because he tells me things I already know, but it's coming from a different person, someone other than myself. I agreed with everything he told me because I had sort of thought of it myself. The difference was the feeling that you can survive leaving people behind and not seeing them anymore. For me, right now, Peter is the issue: I don't want to leave Peter here unless I have done something to make his life easier.

It's terrible how much I have lost because of chronic fatigue. I was thinking that I don't have any music because I'm on dialup (it's cheaper), and it's hard to search for music when you're on dialup. But even worse than that, I have chronic fatigue. Chronic illness makes it so hard to do even the simplest things, anything that requires the slightest ambition or motivation, that my life is much more depressing and lifeless because of that. I feel a sense of my *potential*, because in the past, when I was young, I was much healthier, and I could read, and learn, and study, and make things, and do arts and crafts, and meet people, and have conversations, and have adventures - I had more life. I know that is my potential. If I were not sick, I would still be living that way. So, huge amounts of my life's time are being wasted because of chronic illness. Years go by, but nothing gets better. This is so depressing, that it makes it hard to meet new people and share my life with them: there's no good news to share, nothing to give, except years and years of stagnation and misery. And I'm not merely sick, I'm also being attacked by the murderers, so I am sleep-deprived, every day, and my dreams are *always* hypnotized fake dreams, instead of letting my brain process whatever it needs to process on its own. I wonder what my mind would think of if it processed its own dreams without being hypnotized by murderers while I sleep. So all I have is unmet potential, instead of expressed potential or actualized potential. How do you convince people, 'I really am good, I really am worth something, but it's locked inside me and it can't get out?'

I think I will post this now. I'll probably think of more stuff to say afterwards.