November 29, 2011 10:23 am EDT
Not much happened in real life today. I filed a Freedom of Information Act request for the documents about my one day stint in the Navy. I asked because I have the enlistment papers, went there, and stuff happened and then I'm back home. No one mentions it -- it was in 1985. I remember signing something, being directed to sign, but I didn't know what it was, so I filed a form for it and it should be back within a month or so. The FBI, when I filed an FOIA request, got back to me within a month.
I woke up a little late for work, at about 2:35 am. Just before I became completely awake, I was reading something to myself or out loud, I don't know. It was typed in capital letters, bold faced. It read to me like a police file or something. It began, "The death of JO___ (my nephew) can be explained by (or, was caused by) W__ (my name, first middle and last). " When I read that part, someone pointed out a wallet sized photo of me which was paper clipped to the upper right corner. I read on, "JO___ ( it referred to him as my son, and I thought, 'I don't have a son.') died because someone found out that it was his son and was a product of incest." Then it went on to say that I killed him.
What rot. There is no incest between me and my sisters and I'm really not even surprised that someone would make me read something like that. And why do they do that? Because someone, or there's some trigger later on, that makes me repeat it out loud later, no matter where I am. This has been done before. When I worked at the gas station where X's son knew a coworker of mine, I remember standing in the store and that guy from the McC event, the one I call Fatso, was with a different coworker there and they were both looking at me. Fatso said to the woman, "Look at his eyes." She leaned in, arms folded, and said, "He's reading." You can tell when someone's reading. Their eyes stop and start after a few words. I don't know if I was saying something or not.
I stopped reading and didn't think much of it. I'm used to being slandered and it's no surprised that a rumor like that would get started after I told someone I worked with years ago about something my older sister, T said to me when I was 12. (More about that later.) Anyway, that baby died 25 years ago, and it was not the child of T. Did I read that years ago and someone decided to 'wake it up' now?
But, all in all, I wasn't upset about it. It only figured that they're still making dirt out of anything they can, and maybe if my sister, the baby's mother, heard about this, she would be mad enough to stop participating in this harassment. Then I thought of my cousin who has the same name as I do, and thought, "Well, who knows about him and his sister." My older sister, T, laughed about how he (my cousin) married a woman who had the same name and body type as his sister, and as she put it, "What does that mean?"
Overall, I think it's just more of the same tactic to get me embarassed or mad, and like I said, it's been almost 30 years (27, actually) of this and nothing surprises me and I can't get too mad about what I'm not allowed to answer to in real life.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
HOW NOT TO CONNECT THE DOTS
November 22, 2011 7:12 pm EST
Not much different today in real life.
I woke up about three hours ago, and my mind was suspiciously quiet. Usually, things start up before my feet even hit the floor. Wake up as this or that person, etc. So, I start working on the data entry job online, and I'm thinking, "Where are they? It's too quiet, so something must be up." They weren't even making me screw up the typing like they like to do. I'm pretty sure I mentioned before how they tell me to hit the wrong keys, type different letters. They tried to train me with their favorite lie. "When you type bad, it's because you're a man, but look how well you type when you're a woman." It's just the same training they gave me when I was 7.
When they had a problem then, they threw a dress on me and paraded me around to get people not to believe me if I ever said anything, and now they want me to "put on the dress" myself. Not literally, they know they have to wake up some really old imprints to do that (if it's even done for real), but to assume some woman's identity psychologically. I've told them before then I'll type bad and I'd rather be a crazy man than any kind of woman.
They usually tell me to be my sister, G. She was the one they trained to call me a liar at that meeting at school in 1967 (see previous posts). So, they can associate G with "liar" and also with "suicide" because of the time when I was about 10 and she said she ate rat poison. It's pretty funny, now.
So, the past hour or so, they played connect the dots leading to suicide. Getting me in that position at the store in 1985, gun to the head, etc, has been some sort of sticking point to them, and also a gold mine of head games for me and their audience. They can't admit to freaking me out so badly that it lead to that (and who gave me the gun anyway, if there really was one), but they still wake up that imprint and then use some crappy line of, I wouldn't even call it reasoning, but their "version" that they play out and, usually after they show everyone, tell me to accept it or else. What can I do?
So, I was typing away and wondering where they were. And soon enough, XC, X's daughter, showed up and I don't know, put the thought of an old imprint in my mind that they used to keep me "asleep" for many, many years. When I was 13 or so, I got a hard on while some toddler was sitting on my lap, and I went upstairs and, uhh, took care of it (definitely not thinking of toddlers or anything like that. And I didn't have any porn back then, either). Embarassing, yes. Fatal? No. But many, many times the past 27 years, before being fully awake, I had that thought in my mind, and then they (usually my sister, J, for some reason) would scream that I should "go to sleep" or "act crazy," and I went back to sleep, and when I was fully awake (as awake as I can be, I suppose) I was already primed for a day of being at their command -- what to think about when eating, what to think about when working. Basically, being "guided" by them. Not normal and not good for me, but they do it because they need to control someone who can tell on them.
About four years ago it was the usual pattern. Before waking up having that memory in my head with someone screaming at me to go to sleep. It was sister J at that time. The thing was that my sister T was telling my neice, who had visited her, that I was a child molestor. T would call it that, she's never had anything nice to say about her relatives and their friends. So, I thought, "No. I'm not going to go back to sleep. I'm sick and tired of hearing about that, and if I ever heard her or anyone else saying that in real life, I would get a lawyer after them."
There's a dilemma for anyone. They make you think of it when you're asleep, so you have no recourse. Can't even defend yourself. If you say anything for real, they would say, "Well, you brought it up, we didn't."
This controlling tactic worked for them for a long time. They held that up as a smear campaign that I wouldn't even be aware of (I don't have the mentality of a child molestor, it went over my head). But, I wouldn't have it anymore.
So, today they woke up that memory, and I put it that way because XC showed up first and sat there, waiting for me to "go to sleep," I guess. They must have known that I was going to write this. I have been thinking about writing out that event and how they used it in 1985 (tomorrow's post) for several months now. I didn't "go to sleep" as they usually count on, and just kept at my typing. So, after about 15 minutes or so, I just thought of how dumb the whole thing is, but I came to thinking about what I should do.
Of course, X was there stirring a frenzy as much as she could, letting me run around a bit, but I felt like a little boy. Then of course, her suggestion was to "Go G." G is my sister's name, and I did "feel" like her for a few seconds, then dismissed it. The best way I can describe that is that I imitate her, and the other so-called "woman." It was "put on a dress" like they trained me when I was 7, then it was G and the suicide thing, which X could have gotten from McC and the time that she had her goblins XC and XF playing the Cobains and when I caught on, there I was with a gun to my head and XF putting the gun in my mouth.
So, now they have connected the dots from "he's a child molestor" to "you have to put on the dress" to "look, he's suicidal." And her audience believes it. I'm not a child molestor. I don't wear a dress or even want to. I'm not suicidal. But it's the same tactic of taking imprints from times decades apart and running them together to get me some place that they want me, and, of course, they are the only ones who have an explanation. The only one who hasn't had any say in the matter is me.
Then I heard someone say, "We'll stand by you," or something like that. I thought it some woman from the gay community -- from what I know of them, they would be too ready to believe that line of thought, especially since they don't really know me. The upshot (pun intended) is that X and her goblins and my relatives are still passing off their, "Look, we have the proof that he is suicidal because he wants to be a woman." And they got them suckered into believing that, and pushing that idea on me, and in effect, they became unwitting accomplices in a harassment campaign/covering other people's asses by using the same old tactic they used 44 years ago.
These dots don't connect. And of course X is stirring the pot to no end, making me feel like a little kid running around needing someone to help, and like she trained me 44 years ago, it was "put on the dress." I said, "No. I'm not." I realize what their game is, and it's only to cover X's ass. I don't expect to hear from them again, but I'm sure they have my mother waking up their training on me everyday.
Child molestation is out of the question, but they have that imprint they can wake up of associating toddlers with a hard on. That's pretty despicable, since I don't have that mentality. And if they did that, shouldn't someone ask them why they haven't done anything about it instead of using it as some carnival side show that they can turn on and off whenever they want. X would be pretty stupid since she's the real deal when it comes to raping a child (see 1969 post).
Wearing a dress is ridiculous. That's not my definition of gay. But that was always X's way of solving problems (see post about first grade).
Suicide? She has the imprint that her and her son made, and could wake that up. Then there's the imprint of suicide from the store, McC, in 1985, and she may or may not have been there. But both times it was me, with no thought of being a woman or wearing a dress, or anything remotely like that. There's no connection between dress and suicide, like there's no connection between getting off of a guilt trip about child molestation, or anything else, by wearing a dress.
When they started to talk to me while I was sleeping in 1984 or 1985, I had, I guess they would be called ideations (I don't know) of jumping out of the window or shooting myself in the forehead -- two times in a row -- don't think anyone can get off two shots. Way back, when I was about 6 or 7, I always had a dream of falling off the expressway bridge. Sometimes every night. I didn't jump, but I was already falling when the dream started and woke up before I hit the street. I actually looked forward to that dream.
Around that same time, I had thoughts that my mother was killing herself by hanging. From my perspective, I was in the basement looking up at her as she jumped off the higher steps, legs tucked in, and falling in an arc. People fall straight down, not swinging. But the image of her jumping would replay over and over, about three times. I had that thought many times in the grade school years. Ironic, since I liked, and remember more about, grade school better than the other school years. There's nowhere next to the basement stairs to tie a rope, though.
**Here come the thoughts of them discrediting what I just wrote about. Of course, they have told their story with the same incidents and of course I'm the one who is just so wrong about the details, context, or whatever, and the badgering and harassing starts, and waiting to use anything I say as "proof" that I'm just trying to cover myself up. Really? If you have read my posts from the beginning, I'm an admitted attempted murderer (regardless of the fact that it was one of their psychodramas complete with a script and plenty of starts and stops to see "how far would he go?"), a rape victim, a little boy who had dresses put on him, an embarassing erection, and suicidal (in my -- or more rightly, their-- dreams) The only thing that they can't accuse me of is whitewashing my past.**
I was scanning this post before I wrote it, and when I got to the words "child molestor" I heard a snap in my left ear and someone asked, "Who wrote this?" And I automatically shrugged my shoulders as if someone was behind me and pulled them up to make it look like I'm shrugging. As I said before, they know that I going write this and they now they have something contrived for later. "Who wrote this?" they'll ask, and I'll automatically shrug, and their audience is duped again. Why don't the witnesses to their crap say something?
10:50 pm EST
It's been about 3 hours since I put this post up, and went on Facebook to see where I could drop some links to this blog. Went and looked at the pages of some of these people mentioned. Pretty much the same, friends with each other. Not very interesting, really. The local newpaper looks like a good Facebook page to leave a few comments along with the blog address.
But, of course, they have to start their crap again. I don't know how I got there, but I'm at my aunt and uncle's house, outside, and the other ones are there. The guy who drags me around, and tries to discredit what I wrote is there, too. And my aunt says that they are my caretakers or something, and there's a cop car at the curb, or so I'm led to believe, ready to take me away as soon as they start their harassment and I tell them to f**k off, or worse.
And they're playing word games and head games and the usual "take an answer that I give to one question and apply it to something completely different. And they got plenty of witnesses around. How convenient for them (someone pointed to me and said, "For you" as in how convenient for me, not them. Nice try, but I wouldn't want to be there at all, and whoever took me there should be arrested. They're just waiting to prompt some trouble. I'm sure they want me to do something embarassing and call the cops or something and that's the only way to leave.
Like X said to me before, "You're not getting out of here until you change your mind." Meaning that I just have to be "someone else." Meaning, not leaving until she gets the "woman" she created to keep me from going into the Navy and that's the thing that they can't explain and what people are wondering about. How is it that HE has the induction paperwork, remembers what she did at her house, and then going to incuction in Cleveland, then to some crackpot psychiatrist/torturer, and then home with no exit papers?
Time to ask for a Freedom of Information Act from the Navy. They have to have some paperwork because they did contact me at home after all that. So, I'm just waiting to leave, I can hear the trigger words that they're reading to me to break my concentration later on. Almost time to go to work and get worked over by the dupes that these criminals have suckered into helping. It seems that these people have nothing better to do than wait around for a mentally ill person to start to masturbate so they can make trouble. These people should keep their asses away from me, especially the phony "lawyer" lady.
Her and the guy who took me there seem to be the ones who are most involved in making sure there are witnesses in public when they wake up their phony, contrived, and manipulated imprints. They must be paid a lot of money to take such a risk of being caught in manipulating and harassing people. They'll be their fall guys, no doubt.
Not much different today in real life.
I woke up about three hours ago, and my mind was suspiciously quiet. Usually, things start up before my feet even hit the floor. Wake up as this or that person, etc. So, I start working on the data entry job online, and I'm thinking, "Where are they? It's too quiet, so something must be up." They weren't even making me screw up the typing like they like to do. I'm pretty sure I mentioned before how they tell me to hit the wrong keys, type different letters. They tried to train me with their favorite lie. "When you type bad, it's because you're a man, but look how well you type when you're a woman." It's just the same training they gave me when I was 7.
When they had a problem then, they threw a dress on me and paraded me around to get people not to believe me if I ever said anything, and now they want me to "put on the dress" myself. Not literally, they know they have to wake up some really old imprints to do that (if it's even done for real), but to assume some woman's identity psychologically. I've told them before then I'll type bad and I'd rather be a crazy man than any kind of woman.
They usually tell me to be my sister, G. She was the one they trained to call me a liar at that meeting at school in 1967 (see previous posts). So, they can associate G with "liar" and also with "suicide" because of the time when I was about 10 and she said she ate rat poison. It's pretty funny, now.
So, the past hour or so, they played connect the dots leading to suicide. Getting me in that position at the store in 1985, gun to the head, etc, has been some sort of sticking point to them, and also a gold mine of head games for me and their audience. They can't admit to freaking me out so badly that it lead to that (and who gave me the gun anyway, if there really was one), but they still wake up that imprint and then use some crappy line of, I wouldn't even call it reasoning, but their "version" that they play out and, usually after they show everyone, tell me to accept it or else. What can I do?
So, I was typing away and wondering where they were. And soon enough, XC, X's daughter, showed up and I don't know, put the thought of an old imprint in my mind that they used to keep me "asleep" for many, many years. When I was 13 or so, I got a hard on while some toddler was sitting on my lap, and I went upstairs and, uhh, took care of it (definitely not thinking of toddlers or anything like that. And I didn't have any porn back then, either). Embarassing, yes. Fatal? No. But many, many times the past 27 years, before being fully awake, I had that thought in my mind, and then they (usually my sister, J, for some reason) would scream that I should "go to sleep" or "act crazy," and I went back to sleep, and when I was fully awake (as awake as I can be, I suppose) I was already primed for a day of being at their command -- what to think about when eating, what to think about when working. Basically, being "guided" by them. Not normal and not good for me, but they do it because they need to control someone who can tell on them.
About four years ago it was the usual pattern. Before waking up having that memory in my head with someone screaming at me to go to sleep. It was sister J at that time. The thing was that my sister T was telling my neice, who had visited her, that I was a child molestor. T would call it that, she's never had anything nice to say about her relatives and their friends. So, I thought, "No. I'm not going to go back to sleep. I'm sick and tired of hearing about that, and if I ever heard her or anyone else saying that in real life, I would get a lawyer after them."
There's a dilemma for anyone. They make you think of it when you're asleep, so you have no recourse. Can't even defend yourself. If you say anything for real, they would say, "Well, you brought it up, we didn't."
This controlling tactic worked for them for a long time. They held that up as a smear campaign that I wouldn't even be aware of (I don't have the mentality of a child molestor, it went over my head). But, I wouldn't have it anymore.
So, today they woke up that memory, and I put it that way because XC showed up first and sat there, waiting for me to "go to sleep," I guess. They must have known that I was going to write this. I have been thinking about writing out that event and how they used it in 1985 (tomorrow's post) for several months now. I didn't "go to sleep" as they usually count on, and just kept at my typing. So, after about 15 minutes or so, I just thought of how dumb the whole thing is, but I came to thinking about what I should do.
Of course, X was there stirring a frenzy as much as she could, letting me run around a bit, but I felt like a little boy. Then of course, her suggestion was to "Go G." G is my sister's name, and I did "feel" like her for a few seconds, then dismissed it. The best way I can describe that is that I imitate her, and the other so-called "woman." It was "put on a dress" like they trained me when I was 7, then it was G and the suicide thing, which X could have gotten from McC and the time that she had her goblins XC and XF playing the Cobains and when I caught on, there I was with a gun to my head and XF putting the gun in my mouth.
So, now they have connected the dots from "he's a child molestor" to "you have to put on the dress" to "look, he's suicidal." And her audience believes it. I'm not a child molestor. I don't wear a dress or even want to. I'm not suicidal. But it's the same tactic of taking imprints from times decades apart and running them together to get me some place that they want me, and, of course, they are the only ones who have an explanation. The only one who hasn't had any say in the matter is me.
Then I heard someone say, "We'll stand by you," or something like that. I thought it some woman from the gay community -- from what I know of them, they would be too ready to believe that line of thought, especially since they don't really know me. The upshot (pun intended) is that X and her goblins and my relatives are still passing off their, "Look, we have the proof that he is suicidal because he wants to be a woman." And they got them suckered into believing that, and pushing that idea on me, and in effect, they became unwitting accomplices in a harassment campaign/covering other people's asses by using the same old tactic they used 44 years ago.
These dots don't connect. And of course X is stirring the pot to no end, making me feel like a little kid running around needing someone to help, and like she trained me 44 years ago, it was "put on the dress." I said, "No. I'm not." I realize what their game is, and it's only to cover X's ass. I don't expect to hear from them again, but I'm sure they have my mother waking up their training on me everyday.
Child molestation is out of the question, but they have that imprint they can wake up of associating toddlers with a hard on. That's pretty despicable, since I don't have that mentality. And if they did that, shouldn't someone ask them why they haven't done anything about it instead of using it as some carnival side show that they can turn on and off whenever they want. X would be pretty stupid since she's the real deal when it comes to raping a child (see 1969 post).
Wearing a dress is ridiculous. That's not my definition of gay. But that was always X's way of solving problems (see post about first grade).
Suicide? She has the imprint that her and her son made, and could wake that up. Then there's the imprint of suicide from the store, McC, in 1985, and she may or may not have been there. But both times it was me, with no thought of being a woman or wearing a dress, or anything remotely like that. There's no connection between dress and suicide, like there's no connection between getting off of a guilt trip about child molestation, or anything else, by wearing a dress.
When they started to talk to me while I was sleeping in 1984 or 1985, I had, I guess they would be called ideations (I don't know) of jumping out of the window or shooting myself in the forehead -- two times in a row -- don't think anyone can get off two shots. Way back, when I was about 6 or 7, I always had a dream of falling off the expressway bridge. Sometimes every night. I didn't jump, but I was already falling when the dream started and woke up before I hit the street. I actually looked forward to that dream.
Around that same time, I had thoughts that my mother was killing herself by hanging. From my perspective, I was in the basement looking up at her as she jumped off the higher steps, legs tucked in, and falling in an arc. People fall straight down, not swinging. But the image of her jumping would replay over and over, about three times. I had that thought many times in the grade school years. Ironic, since I liked, and remember more about, grade school better than the other school years. There's nowhere next to the basement stairs to tie a rope, though.
**Here come the thoughts of them discrediting what I just wrote about. Of course, they have told their story with the same incidents and of course I'm the one who is just so wrong about the details, context, or whatever, and the badgering and harassing starts, and waiting to use anything I say as "proof" that I'm just trying to cover myself up. Really? If you have read my posts from the beginning, I'm an admitted attempted murderer (regardless of the fact that it was one of their psychodramas complete with a script and plenty of starts and stops to see "how far would he go?"), a rape victim, a little boy who had dresses put on him, an embarassing erection, and suicidal (in my -- or more rightly, their-- dreams) The only thing that they can't accuse me of is whitewashing my past.**
I was scanning this post before I wrote it, and when I got to the words "child molestor" I heard a snap in my left ear and someone asked, "Who wrote this?" And I automatically shrugged my shoulders as if someone was behind me and pulled them up to make it look like I'm shrugging. As I said before, they know that I going write this and they now they have something contrived for later. "Who wrote this?" they'll ask, and I'll automatically shrug, and their audience is duped again. Why don't the witnesses to their crap say something?
10:50 pm EST
It's been about 3 hours since I put this post up, and went on Facebook to see where I could drop some links to this blog. Went and looked at the pages of some of these people mentioned. Pretty much the same, friends with each other. Not very interesting, really. The local newpaper looks like a good Facebook page to leave a few comments along with the blog address.
But, of course, they have to start their crap again. I don't know how I got there, but I'm at my aunt and uncle's house, outside, and the other ones are there. The guy who drags me around, and tries to discredit what I wrote is there, too. And my aunt says that they are my caretakers or something, and there's a cop car at the curb, or so I'm led to believe, ready to take me away as soon as they start their harassment and I tell them to f**k off, or worse.
And they're playing word games and head games and the usual "take an answer that I give to one question and apply it to something completely different. And they got plenty of witnesses around. How convenient for them (someone pointed to me and said, "For you" as in how convenient for me, not them. Nice try, but I wouldn't want to be there at all, and whoever took me there should be arrested. They're just waiting to prompt some trouble. I'm sure they want me to do something embarassing and call the cops or something and that's the only way to leave.
Like X said to me before, "You're not getting out of here until you change your mind." Meaning that I just have to be "someone else." Meaning, not leaving until she gets the "woman" she created to keep me from going into the Navy and that's the thing that they can't explain and what people are wondering about. How is it that HE has the induction paperwork, remembers what she did at her house, and then going to incuction in Cleveland, then to some crackpot psychiatrist/torturer, and then home with no exit papers?
Time to ask for a Freedom of Information Act from the Navy. They have to have some paperwork because they did contact me at home after all that. So, I'm just waiting to leave, I can hear the trigger words that they're reading to me to break my concentration later on. Almost time to go to work and get worked over by the dupes that these criminals have suckered into helping. It seems that these people have nothing better to do than wait around for a mentally ill person to start to masturbate so they can make trouble. These people should keep their asses away from me, especially the phony "lawyer" lady.
Her and the guy who took me there seem to be the ones who are most involved in making sure there are witnesses in public when they wake up their phony, contrived, and manipulated imprints. They must be paid a lot of money to take such a risk of being caught in manipulating and harassing people. They'll be their fall guys, no doubt.
Monday, November 21, 2011
SO MUCH FOR GUILT TRIPS
November 21, 2011 10:10 pm EDT
Nothing much in real life, as usual. Woke up early, though.
As I imagine (or not):
The first thing that came up was that woman, the screaming Mimi who claims she's my conscience. Like I described before, she claimed she was my conscience, and I told her that having a woman read my thoughts back to me isn't going to make me think that I'm some female, so she's not my conscience, and she's not even ON my conscience. Some time ago, she told me to think of her as, and I'll use a different name than what she said, I'll say she told me to think of her as Min.
Now, I knew what she wanted. While I was working at the store in the summer of 1985, there were some murders and attacks in the area, which included some woman named Min. I related the following event only once, to AN, the woman who died a few weeks ago, in 1985:
I was working at the store alone, so it must have been sometime in the evening after everyone else, the butcher, etc, had gone. A woman came in and stood in front of me and I looked at her. After a few seconds, she said, "You can see me?" I didn't say anything, but shrugged my shoulders as, "Well, yeah." She was wearing a dress. Then she left, and, I think, she came back in. There was some guy there, but I didn't look at him, and he picked something out of the candy rack.
He held it in front of my face, and I couldn't see it (negative hallucination), and he knew that I couldn't see it because he waved it up and down, laughing because my eyes just followed it here and there. I knew someone must have sent him in there to harass me. I just kept my eyes forward, looking at the cash register, and asked him, "What is it?" "It's gum," he said. I think he asked me something like, "Can't you see it?" and laughed. I rang it up and asked for 35 cents. I'm pretty sure it was 35 cents because I held out my hand, not looking at him, and he dropped a quater and a dime in my hand saying, "Here's a quarter," pause, "and here's a dime." I put the money in the drawer and was glad that they were leaving. I could hear the girl laughing, too, and the guy mentioned it, saying something like, "She's laughing at you," or, "She's making fun of you." This is one of the earliest "let's use somebody to provoke him in public" events.
As they left, I half turned my head toward the door, and thought, "F**k her." I didn't think much of it because it was pretty usual for those things to happen, the talk of "haunting you, spirits, ghosts, etc." After the woman named Min was found dead, around the same time (I worked there from June to the end of Aug, 1985) I wondered if that was the same one. The one who was in the store, the "You can see me?" woman. I also remembered their exit a little differently, that as they were leaving, and the guy said she was making fun of me and added, "What should I do to her?", and I thought, "F**k her . . ." (as I initially remembered) and then my head jerked forward, I looked up at something I couldn't see (the gum?) and added, ". . .up." "What should I do to her?" he said. "F**k her . . . up."
So, what really happened? Woman in dress comes in and acts surprised that I can see her, immediately leaves, comes back in with guy I don't look at, buys gum that I can't see, and leaves after he asks what to do to her and I say to "f**k her. . . up." The not seeing dresses isn't new. See post about the first grade. It may not have been the dead woman, before she got killed of course, because she was killed by someone who had just met her, but it was about 3/4 mile away from the store. But certainly, they must have been tipped off that I wouldn't see her initially and I wouldn't see the gum, which happened. As far as I knew, it was a couple of people who were just doing the usual harassment, and I thought, "f**k her." Later, and not unusual that there was something additional to the event, I remembered it was "f**k her . . . up."
Months later, the following January, they caught the guy who killed the woman. I saw him on TV, and I couldn't say that it was the guy in the store that night because I didn't even attempt to look at him, but I did notice that he blinked in the light in a peculiar way while photographers were taking his picture. I do the same thing. I still wonder who tripped his trigger.
A few months ago, I was at work when somebody came up to me and said, "I don't know if you want to respond to this text message." The first thing I thought of was that finally someone's asking me if I want to read something instead of just sticking it in my face. I shook my head no, and looked away, but it didn't do any good. I saw the text and it was "C u later." Don't know who would be seeing me later, but it didn't have anything to do with my reaction, which was my eyes rolled up like some girl I worked with years ago used to do. That girls name was Min, also, and I thought of someone saying to me, "You need a new 'Min.'" Someone was trying to change my first association with "Min."
So, recently this woman comes around and said that she was my conscience, or on it, and said that I should think of her as Min. Same name as dead woman. She was trying to put me on a guilt trip, but where is the guilt trip if she has to explain to me who she wants me to think she is? It's nonexistent. How dumb is she to try to use something like that as a tactic on me to do . . . what? If she's just reading things someone gives her to read, and she doesn't know why, she's just clueless. She also mentioned before that I had confessed to something (I had, at McC, the store) and they need me to do it again. Not going to happen. In any event, I think she serves no purpose.
Incidentally, they're still trying to get me to believe in spirits and ghosts, etc. While X, I believe it is her, is around, she trys to get me to call her AN, so she can play her usual game that I am channeling dead people, and I have to believe that . . . or else.
Nothing much in real life, as usual. Woke up early, though.
As I imagine (or not):
The first thing that came up was that woman, the screaming Mimi who claims she's my conscience. Like I described before, she claimed she was my conscience, and I told her that having a woman read my thoughts back to me isn't going to make me think that I'm some female, so she's not my conscience, and she's not even ON my conscience. Some time ago, she told me to think of her as, and I'll use a different name than what she said, I'll say she told me to think of her as Min.
Now, I knew what she wanted. While I was working at the store in the summer of 1985, there were some murders and attacks in the area, which included some woman named Min. I related the following event only once, to AN, the woman who died a few weeks ago, in 1985:
I was working at the store alone, so it must have been sometime in the evening after everyone else, the butcher, etc, had gone. A woman came in and stood in front of me and I looked at her. After a few seconds, she said, "You can see me?" I didn't say anything, but shrugged my shoulders as, "Well, yeah." She was wearing a dress. Then she left, and, I think, she came back in. There was some guy there, but I didn't look at him, and he picked something out of the candy rack.
He held it in front of my face, and I couldn't see it (negative hallucination), and he knew that I couldn't see it because he waved it up and down, laughing because my eyes just followed it here and there. I knew someone must have sent him in there to harass me. I just kept my eyes forward, looking at the cash register, and asked him, "What is it?" "It's gum," he said. I think he asked me something like, "Can't you see it?" and laughed. I rang it up and asked for 35 cents. I'm pretty sure it was 35 cents because I held out my hand, not looking at him, and he dropped a quater and a dime in my hand saying, "Here's a quarter," pause, "and here's a dime." I put the money in the drawer and was glad that they were leaving. I could hear the girl laughing, too, and the guy mentioned it, saying something like, "She's laughing at you," or, "She's making fun of you." This is one of the earliest "let's use somebody to provoke him in public" events.
As they left, I half turned my head toward the door, and thought, "F**k her." I didn't think much of it because it was pretty usual for those things to happen, the talk of "haunting you, spirits, ghosts, etc." After the woman named Min was found dead, around the same time (I worked there from June to the end of Aug, 1985) I wondered if that was the same one. The one who was in the store, the "You can see me?" woman. I also remembered their exit a little differently, that as they were leaving, and the guy said she was making fun of me and added, "What should I do to her?", and I thought, "F**k her . . ." (as I initially remembered) and then my head jerked forward, I looked up at something I couldn't see (the gum?) and added, ". . .up." "What should I do to her?" he said. "F**k her . . . up."
So, what really happened? Woman in dress comes in and acts surprised that I can see her, immediately leaves, comes back in with guy I don't look at, buys gum that I can't see, and leaves after he asks what to do to her and I say to "f**k her. . . up." The not seeing dresses isn't new. See post about the first grade. It may not have been the dead woman, before she got killed of course, because she was killed by someone who had just met her, but it was about 3/4 mile away from the store. But certainly, they must have been tipped off that I wouldn't see her initially and I wouldn't see the gum, which happened. As far as I knew, it was a couple of people who were just doing the usual harassment, and I thought, "f**k her." Later, and not unusual that there was something additional to the event, I remembered it was "f**k her . . . up."
Months later, the following January, they caught the guy who killed the woman. I saw him on TV, and I couldn't say that it was the guy in the store that night because I didn't even attempt to look at him, but I did notice that he blinked in the light in a peculiar way while photographers were taking his picture. I do the same thing. I still wonder who tripped his trigger.
A few months ago, I was at work when somebody came up to me and said, "I don't know if you want to respond to this text message." The first thing I thought of was that finally someone's asking me if I want to read something instead of just sticking it in my face. I shook my head no, and looked away, but it didn't do any good. I saw the text and it was "C u later." Don't know who would be seeing me later, but it didn't have anything to do with my reaction, which was my eyes rolled up like some girl I worked with years ago used to do. That girls name was Min, also, and I thought of someone saying to me, "You need a new 'Min.'" Someone was trying to change my first association with "Min."
So, recently this woman comes around and said that she was my conscience, or on it, and said that I should think of her as Min. Same name as dead woman. She was trying to put me on a guilt trip, but where is the guilt trip if she has to explain to me who she wants me to think she is? It's nonexistent. How dumb is she to try to use something like that as a tactic on me to do . . . what? If she's just reading things someone gives her to read, and she doesn't know why, she's just clueless. She also mentioned before that I had confessed to something (I had, at McC, the store) and they need me to do it again. Not going to happen. In any event, I think she serves no purpose.
Incidentally, they're still trying to get me to believe in spirits and ghosts, etc. While X, I believe it is her, is around, she trys to get me to call her AN, so she can play her usual game that I am channeling dead people, and I have to believe that . . . or else.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
MEETING OF THE . . . MINDS?
NOVEMBER 20, 2011 12:16 PM EDT
Nothing unusual in real life today. Went to work, store, and home.
As I'm allowed to imagine:
Seems to be some big meeting with all the fools involved today. It started off with the McC terrorizers trying to prove their point. Again. Same old routine -- I have to agree to saying that they had permission, etc, which is not true. I was already screwed up and she, F, knew it and too bad for her it just led to a freak out (see McC posts). And the other fool from McC wants me to say that I agreed to "helping" him with information about the dope dealers, which doesn't make sense because, as I keep explaining, the pot dealers knew how to read me, and they would have known if I had agreed to being a snitch or whatever, and then there wouldn't have been anything for the guy to learn from me because they wouldn't have sold anything to me. And, of course, always pushing the "join the gay community, blah, blah, blah."
Somebody dragged up KS and that big haired lady from way back, when KS was playing question/answer/torment at AN's house. And, of course, it came up that AN died and I really didn't care (haven't seen her in about 14 years). I said that I'm sure they played out some phony boo-hoo scenario by playing some imprints from wherever and whenever just to make sure that I look so upset about it the way they think I should react. The same thing when ET died, I didn't think much of it, and I thought that they, as always, will make it out to be something for me that it isn't. And they even said, "Don't worry, we got you covered." And I thought, "With what, some phony speech that's not even close to what I think?" Their response is usually a big "so what?"
Another strange thing at about this time was that the woman who was with KS, big haired lady, said something like, "We could have made you anything you wanted. Mayor, blah, blah, blah." I thought, "And then what? Spend the rest of my life kissing your fat ass?" Not my idea of a life. That's what I've been telling them lately. "There's nothing in my life that you can take from me that I would care about. You can torture anybody or kill anybody in front of me and I couldn't care less. I have nothing to lose. Execept my little dog, but if you did kill him, I'll even get over that. You have no leverage."
Then, of course it starts again with the "he wants to be a woman." Totally unacceptable. Like I say, "You just want to sweep all of the crimes that you are covering up under a f****ty rug." They always got some psychobabbly excuse, gender, sexual, some guilt trip that isn't there. Their "woman thing" is just phony training. And they call it T (my sister's name) See the McC post. I counter with, it's just training that X and her husband and my mother and sister did in 1967 to put on some "he's a little psycho, don't believe what he says, he's a liar, and wearing a dress is what he wants." They skipped the terrorizing part about how they "train their children" to shut up. "Even if he tells, they won't believe him. After all, he thinks he's a little girl," is their catch phrase. I told them, today, that they lack imagination.
Still using the same tried and true tactic that they forced on me 44 years ago. I wonder if anybody notices that there is always somebody around, like X, to explain, and has to be the one to show what she calls the "truth." It's just her dog and pony show that she played more than once before. And after two and a half decades (since 1985), she's had plenty of time along with her two goblins to do a lot of damage with their "training." She's just a rapist who has been given the opportunity by a bunch of dupes to victimize her victims for a lifetime.
So, they were all there putting on their show. They try to pass off their training about wearing dresses that it is the only way he is calm. And then manipulate me to show that the "man" is just foul mouthed and violent. And at one point, I asked, or tried to ask because I know that I'm not allowed to participate much in my own life anymore, I tried to ask, "I know it's just training. I have no thoughts of being a woman or acting like one. But why did you chose the dress thing to show that they can turn on and off a nervous breakdown, etc? Why not the pacifier? As I recall, after the dress thing ran its course when I was 10 (at the latest), and I took up the pacifier, they tried to break me from that pacifier and it was much harder to get off the pacifier than it ever was to stop wearing a dress. Hmm. Of course, the dress training still worked and it's more humiliating than a pacifier and they played the dress thing in public before, so that was their choice. I know they're just sick people trying to cover their old crimes by using the same tactic that they used on a little 7 year old decades ago. The only difference is that they harass me while I'm sleeping, but they call it a split personality problem.
It was like a bizarre reunion. There's no special occasion today. But with their talk of psychics, and spirits, and some of them using Bible versus to drop a key word on me, who knows what the special occasion is. They usually harass me separately. Only T didn't show up, unless you count the phony T that they call their phony creation, the woman that they swear up and down that I have to be. Accept it, or else! has been their motto lately. I think they did what's called "running too far to get home," in other words, overkill. Bringing up their old "keep him quiet" dress tactic and trying to turn it into a gender, or whatever, issue. They can't, or refuse to acknowledge how this dress and the "your mommy wants you to be a girl and don't you want to do what your mommy says?" thing got started. It's doesn't go too well for them when I'm awake, and just gives them an opportunity to put on their dog and pony show.
I've taken to talking out loud when I'm alone. They don't like it. I don't know what it sounds like to them, because I'm always remembering after the fact, when things are all said and done by them and I'm stuck with no say in the matter. I wonder what it sounds like when I start to talk and not following their scripts when they need an automatic nod or grunt from me. I'm not worried. Sometimes I'm talking into the recorder I carry to make sure that I don't overlook a point, but a lot of times I'll just be answering back to what I'm remembering. Who cares. I'm driving around by myself in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere deliberately talking out loud. No big deal. It's usually a big "f**k you" and someother choice words.
Otherwise, they're still on some kick about enforcing, I won't say reinforcing since it's not there anyway, that "the woman's voice that you hear is your conscience." Huh? They think that having that nasty woman (who was always calling me a child molestor) read out loud what I'm thinking is supposed to convince me that I am a woman. What rot. I just considered her to be an abnoxious trouble maker, and when she said that earlier, while I was working, that she is my conscience (she also threw in that she was my "alter ego"), I laughed and said, "No, you're not my conscience. You're not even ON my conscience." Then there was a guy who started reading, but she keeps it up, whatever that's worth.
This is sort of like when I hear some voice in my left ear, and I think it's T. I don't understand most of it, and I'm a few seconds behind when I realize what she said, but when I hear the words clearly, it's when she is inserting intrusive thoughts. I'll be thinking (responding to those other harassers) and I'll come to a word and she chimes in, or adds words to the ends of some sentences. It all comes down to her trying to change the meaning of what I want to say. It's just weird, and another tactic of making me seem like I'm saying something I don't want to.
What crackpot psychology. They go from training a 7 year old boy to wear a dress, to getting him to, I think I eventually nodded, when KS kept badgering me with her "have you ever thought about being (or wanted to be) a woman?, to making me watch drag queens to imitate when they need to make an exhibition, to having a woman reading back to me what I'm thinking (it probably takes a lot of starts and stops, or rehearsed and edited conversations) to make me believe that it's just in my best interest to start thinking of myself as a woman. They probably haven't had any real shrink advising them, but then why should they? They're criminals. (There was that one shrink during that Navy thing -- see previous post) I think they totally disregard the fact that there were witnesses to the 1967 event. Witnesses that aren't related to the people involved and don't have any reason to cover for them, one way or another.
I went on Facebook. Got zero friends. No profile or anything, and I'm using the name that's on this blog. Just a link to this blog ia the only post there, so people can come here and read it. I couldn't resist, and I surfed the Facebook membership and saw KS's page. Needless to say, I'm not friended, and I didn't request, or whatever you have to go through.
Still associating, as I described in my last post. It was the same as I described before. I had a conversation with someone in the parking lot, said bye, and then heard him say something like, "blah, blah, blah. Don't you?" Didn't catch most of the sentence. So, of course I'm wondering what the stuff was before the "don't you" part was and listened to it on my recorder. And, same as yesterday, there was nothing said by him, and I didn't bother with it anymore.
There's still the associating with words on the TV and radio. When I hear a word, I start on another train of thought, and it goes on, along with the harassers as part of the conversation, until I realize that the key word came from the radio or TV. Then, a little later, it will happen again. I wonder if the key words trigger some conversations, or bits of conversations, that I've had with those harassers earlier, at some point in the past.. That's been another one of their things from years ago and recently, too. You think you're a radio? That woman has said this more than once the past few days, weeks. No, I don't, I say. But I don't think/say that the four initials of my name sounds like radio call letters. I did Google it years ago, and sure enough, the initials are a radio station. A public school's call letters. Go figure.
EDIT 1:49 PM
I went to edit some grammar and when I saw the top of the page where it says "report abuse," I just had to laugh and I thought, "About 44 years too late for that."
Nothing unusual in real life today. Went to work, store, and home.
As I'm allowed to imagine:
Seems to be some big meeting with all the fools involved today. It started off with the McC terrorizers trying to prove their point. Again. Same old routine -- I have to agree to saying that they had permission, etc, which is not true. I was already screwed up and she, F, knew it and too bad for her it just led to a freak out (see McC posts). And the other fool from McC wants me to say that I agreed to "helping" him with information about the dope dealers, which doesn't make sense because, as I keep explaining, the pot dealers knew how to read me, and they would have known if I had agreed to being a snitch or whatever, and then there wouldn't have been anything for the guy to learn from me because they wouldn't have sold anything to me. And, of course, always pushing the "join the gay community, blah, blah, blah."
Somebody dragged up KS and that big haired lady from way back, when KS was playing question/answer/torment at AN's house. And, of course, it came up that AN died and I really didn't care (haven't seen her in about 14 years). I said that I'm sure they played out some phony boo-hoo scenario by playing some imprints from wherever and whenever just to make sure that I look so upset about it the way they think I should react. The same thing when ET died, I didn't think much of it, and I thought that they, as always, will make it out to be something for me that it isn't. And they even said, "Don't worry, we got you covered." And I thought, "With what, some phony speech that's not even close to what I think?" Their response is usually a big "so what?"
Another strange thing at about this time was that the woman who was with KS, big haired lady, said something like, "We could have made you anything you wanted. Mayor, blah, blah, blah." I thought, "And then what? Spend the rest of my life kissing your fat ass?" Not my idea of a life. That's what I've been telling them lately. "There's nothing in my life that you can take from me that I would care about. You can torture anybody or kill anybody in front of me and I couldn't care less. I have nothing to lose. Execept my little dog, but if you did kill him, I'll even get over that. You have no leverage."
Then, of course it starts again with the "he wants to be a woman." Totally unacceptable. Like I say, "You just want to sweep all of the crimes that you are covering up under a f****ty rug." They always got some psychobabbly excuse, gender, sexual, some guilt trip that isn't there. Their "woman thing" is just phony training. And they call it T (my sister's name) See the McC post. I counter with, it's just training that X and her husband and my mother and sister did in 1967 to put on some "he's a little psycho, don't believe what he says, he's a liar, and wearing a dress is what he wants." They skipped the terrorizing part about how they "train their children" to shut up. "Even if he tells, they won't believe him. After all, he thinks he's a little girl," is their catch phrase. I told them, today, that they lack imagination.
Still using the same tried and true tactic that they forced on me 44 years ago. I wonder if anybody notices that there is always somebody around, like X, to explain, and has to be the one to show what she calls the "truth." It's just her dog and pony show that she played more than once before. And after two and a half decades (since 1985), she's had plenty of time along with her two goblins to do a lot of damage with their "training." She's just a rapist who has been given the opportunity by a bunch of dupes to victimize her victims for a lifetime.
So, they were all there putting on their show. They try to pass off their training about wearing dresses that it is the only way he is calm. And then manipulate me to show that the "man" is just foul mouthed and violent. And at one point, I asked, or tried to ask because I know that I'm not allowed to participate much in my own life anymore, I tried to ask, "I know it's just training. I have no thoughts of being a woman or acting like one. But why did you chose the dress thing to show that they can turn on and off a nervous breakdown, etc? Why not the pacifier? As I recall, after the dress thing ran its course when I was 10 (at the latest), and I took up the pacifier, they tried to break me from that pacifier and it was much harder to get off the pacifier than it ever was to stop wearing a dress. Hmm. Of course, the dress training still worked and it's more humiliating than a pacifier and they played the dress thing in public before, so that was their choice. I know they're just sick people trying to cover their old crimes by using the same tactic that they used on a little 7 year old decades ago. The only difference is that they harass me while I'm sleeping, but they call it a split personality problem.
It was like a bizarre reunion. There's no special occasion today. But with their talk of psychics, and spirits, and some of them using Bible versus to drop a key word on me, who knows what the special occasion is. They usually harass me separately. Only T didn't show up, unless you count the phony T that they call their phony creation, the woman that they swear up and down that I have to be. Accept it, or else! has been their motto lately. I think they did what's called "running too far to get home," in other words, overkill. Bringing up their old "keep him quiet" dress tactic and trying to turn it into a gender, or whatever, issue. They can't, or refuse to acknowledge how this dress and the "your mommy wants you to be a girl and don't you want to do what your mommy says?" thing got started. It's doesn't go too well for them when I'm awake, and just gives them an opportunity to put on their dog and pony show.
I've taken to talking out loud when I'm alone. They don't like it. I don't know what it sounds like to them, because I'm always remembering after the fact, when things are all said and done by them and I'm stuck with no say in the matter. I wonder what it sounds like when I start to talk and not following their scripts when they need an automatic nod or grunt from me. I'm not worried. Sometimes I'm talking into the recorder I carry to make sure that I don't overlook a point, but a lot of times I'll just be answering back to what I'm remembering. Who cares. I'm driving around by myself in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere deliberately talking out loud. No big deal. It's usually a big "f**k you" and someother choice words.
Otherwise, they're still on some kick about enforcing, I won't say reinforcing since it's not there anyway, that "the woman's voice that you hear is your conscience." Huh? They think that having that nasty woman (who was always calling me a child molestor) read out loud what I'm thinking is supposed to convince me that I am a woman. What rot. I just considered her to be an abnoxious trouble maker, and when she said that earlier, while I was working, that she is my conscience (she also threw in that she was my "alter ego"), I laughed and said, "No, you're not my conscience. You're not even ON my conscience." Then there was a guy who started reading, but she keeps it up, whatever that's worth.
This is sort of like when I hear some voice in my left ear, and I think it's T. I don't understand most of it, and I'm a few seconds behind when I realize what she said, but when I hear the words clearly, it's when she is inserting intrusive thoughts. I'll be thinking (responding to those other harassers) and I'll come to a word and she chimes in, or adds words to the ends of some sentences. It all comes down to her trying to change the meaning of what I want to say. It's just weird, and another tactic of making me seem like I'm saying something I don't want to.
What crackpot psychology. They go from training a 7 year old boy to wear a dress, to getting him to, I think I eventually nodded, when KS kept badgering me with her "have you ever thought about being (or wanted to be) a woman?, to making me watch drag queens to imitate when they need to make an exhibition, to having a woman reading back to me what I'm thinking (it probably takes a lot of starts and stops, or rehearsed and edited conversations) to make me believe that it's just in my best interest to start thinking of myself as a woman. They probably haven't had any real shrink advising them, but then why should they? They're criminals. (There was that one shrink during that Navy thing -- see previous post) I think they totally disregard the fact that there were witnesses to the 1967 event. Witnesses that aren't related to the people involved and don't have any reason to cover for them, one way or another.
I went on Facebook. Got zero friends. No profile or anything, and I'm using the name that's on this blog. Just a link to this blog ia the only post there, so people can come here and read it. I couldn't resist, and I surfed the Facebook membership and saw KS's page. Needless to say, I'm not friended, and I didn't request, or whatever you have to go through.
Still associating, as I described in my last post. It was the same as I described before. I had a conversation with someone in the parking lot, said bye, and then heard him say something like, "blah, blah, blah. Don't you?" Didn't catch most of the sentence. So, of course I'm wondering what the stuff was before the "don't you" part was and listened to it on my recorder. And, same as yesterday, there was nothing said by him, and I didn't bother with it anymore.
There's still the associating with words on the TV and radio. When I hear a word, I start on another train of thought, and it goes on, along with the harassers as part of the conversation, until I realize that the key word came from the radio or TV. Then, a little later, it will happen again. I wonder if the key words trigger some conversations, or bits of conversations, that I've had with those harassers earlier, at some point in the past.. That's been another one of their things from years ago and recently, too. You think you're a radio? That woman has said this more than once the past few days, weeks. No, I don't, I say. But I don't think/say that the four initials of my name sounds like radio call letters. I did Google it years ago, and sure enough, the initials are a radio station. A public school's call letters. Go figure.
EDIT 1:49 PM
I went to edit some grammar and when I saw the top of the page where it says "report abuse," I just had to laugh and I thought, "About 44 years too late for that."
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
FIGURED SOMETHING OUT
November 16, 2011 9:42 am EDT
Not much happening in real life yesterday. Got up for work really late this morning, at about 4:00 am. They didn't make a big deal about it at the warehouse, had my stuff ready to go and I did finish on time.
The past few days have been interesting. I keep thinking about putting this blog somewhere where local people can find it. I really hear a lot of threats and BS about it. They're really afraid that someone local might ask or leave a comment.
Two days ago, I was talking to someone in the parking lot at work. We talked a bit, and when it was time to go, she left first. I turned the key on my car to put the power window up. Now, just after the woman I was talking to left, and as I got into my car to put the window up, I imagined her saying to me, "You always wanted to be a teacher, right." I leave off the question mark in that quote because it sounded like a command.
The first thing I thought of was that it was another one of that guy's dumb interfering with people at work, like they always have been doing. And with the tone of voice, I took it to be them using somebody to create some answer to those words that they'll use later, like they always have been doing. Anyone who can read my mind knows that teaching would be the last thing in the world I would've want to be. Never was career minded. Decades ago, when people asked me what I wanted to be, I would say, "Older." Or, "Somebody else."
So, I went into the warehouse and got my stuff. I almost asked that woman with whom I was talking to outside if she had asked that question about being a teacher. I didn't since I had doubt that she did.
I listen to one of the overnight talk shows while I'm driving around doing my work. On the radio program for those few seconds, a man was talking about some camp (for kids?) and, "blah blah blah . . . teach . . . blah blah blah." Hmm. The only thing I can figure is that when I heard the word "teach" on the radio, I associated (psychobabbly term. Ha.) with the word and the imaging that she asked, more like told me that I wanted to be a teacher, came out.
Now, this kind of stuff has happened a lot the last 26 years, especially at stores. I go into the store, get waited on, and before I get outside, I "hear" the cashiers saying, I've never seen one look at me directly and say (or just mouth any words for me to lip read) "remember ______," or I've been trained by these so-called guides (criminal harassers, really) that the last word they say to me will trigger some imaging about what "really" went on in the store, or it's some "clue" that's supposed to remind me of something.
A long time ago, decades, I remember walking around and I imagined some people saying, "See that guy over there? He's the CIA and he's after you. It was an old man who passed by me several times. I imagined them telling me to burn with a cigarette. I didn't. Didn't believe he was in the CIA, it just sounded too preposterous.
They just want me to go off on some real person in public to get me in trouble. And I did in 1986. I was in a store and there was a woman working there that I have worked with before. I can't even remember what triggered something but I accused her of being somewhere, or did something somewhere, and she denied it. I started yelling at her that she was a liar. She said that she knew what she was talking about, and added, "What? Are you trying to make me doubt myself?"
I pointed to her and said, "Aha! That's what you are trying to do to me." And I kept yelling at her. Then, I saw a big light everywhere. It was like a camera flash bulb but everywhere around me. Then, it was like seeing myself standing there in that store, crying and literally looking like a one year old boy.
So, when that happened I thought (made associations) of the lights with the police. She wouldn't have had enough time to call the police, though. Who else would the cashier call? And as for a one year old, I thought of my nephew. Is that what happens to me in the light? I turn into that? Or, did someone take a picture of me and show it to me, like KS did at AN's house, and ask the ever popular question, "Who is this?" Or, "Who are you when you do this?" Making me associate with a picture has been done before (see the posts about McC, the store), and, also at McC, I associated (by accident) the light they shined on me with my sister, T.
There was another time when I saw myself in a big light. It was in 1999 shortly after I started at the job I still have. I was ready to leave, and looked over at a woman who was working there. I don't know if she called my name, or what, but I did look over that way. That time, the light lasted longer, it was more than a flash. It lasted long enough for me to take a few steps, and I realized I was acting like some girl I knew in grade school and had a cigarette. That girl started smoking right before I did and I thought I'd take up smoking, too. I did take up smoking. Now, that girl had relatives working there at the time, and outside the building, I heard someone say, "There's another thing you screwed up, _____." ( the blank is that girl's last name.)
Well, there's a few examples of how they try to make me go off at people in public. Or, just to make me look like a fool. These kinds of things, hopefully, shouldn't happen anymore. Ignoring those kinds of things as soon as they happen is the best thing to do. Even if they asked me something and I ignore them, they can always ask again. Most of the stuff people as me is pretty inane stuff. And if they're being "taught" to ask questions of some phony "alter personality" those harassers have created and trained/rehearsed/scheduled/timed, the answers are bound to be something really far fetched and I wouldn't recognize the answer as being my own. I don't even hear the questions or answers.
Not much happening in real life yesterday. Got up for work really late this morning, at about 4:00 am. They didn't make a big deal about it at the warehouse, had my stuff ready to go and I did finish on time.
The past few days have been interesting. I keep thinking about putting this blog somewhere where local people can find it. I really hear a lot of threats and BS about it. They're really afraid that someone local might ask or leave a comment.
Two days ago, I was talking to someone in the parking lot at work. We talked a bit, and when it was time to go, she left first. I turned the key on my car to put the power window up. Now, just after the woman I was talking to left, and as I got into my car to put the window up, I imagined her saying to me, "You always wanted to be a teacher, right." I leave off the question mark in that quote because it sounded like a command.
The first thing I thought of was that it was another one of that guy's dumb interfering with people at work, like they always have been doing. And with the tone of voice, I took it to be them using somebody to create some answer to those words that they'll use later, like they always have been doing. Anyone who can read my mind knows that teaching would be the last thing in the world I would've want to be. Never was career minded. Decades ago, when people asked me what I wanted to be, I would say, "Older." Or, "Somebody else."
So, I went into the warehouse and got my stuff. I almost asked that woman with whom I was talking to outside if she had asked that question about being a teacher. I didn't since I had doubt that she did.
I listen to one of the overnight talk shows while I'm driving around doing my work. On the radio program for those few seconds, a man was talking about some camp (for kids?) and, "blah blah blah . . . teach . . . blah blah blah." Hmm. The only thing I can figure is that when I heard the word "teach" on the radio, I associated (psychobabbly term. Ha.) with the word and the imaging that she asked, more like told me that I wanted to be a teacher, came out.
Now, this kind of stuff has happened a lot the last 26 years, especially at stores. I go into the store, get waited on, and before I get outside, I "hear" the cashiers saying, I've never seen one look at me directly and say (or just mouth any words for me to lip read) "remember ______," or I've been trained by these so-called guides (criminal harassers, really) that the last word they say to me will trigger some imaging about what "really" went on in the store, or it's some "clue" that's supposed to remind me of something.
A long time ago, decades, I remember walking around and I imagined some people saying, "See that guy over there? He's the CIA and he's after you. It was an old man who passed by me several times. I imagined them telling me to burn with a cigarette. I didn't. Didn't believe he was in the CIA, it just sounded too preposterous.
They just want me to go off on some real person in public to get me in trouble. And I did in 1986. I was in a store and there was a woman working there that I have worked with before. I can't even remember what triggered something but I accused her of being somewhere, or did something somewhere, and she denied it. I started yelling at her that she was a liar. She said that she knew what she was talking about, and added, "What? Are you trying to make me doubt myself?"
I pointed to her and said, "Aha! That's what you are trying to do to me." And I kept yelling at her. Then, I saw a big light everywhere. It was like a camera flash bulb but everywhere around me. Then, it was like seeing myself standing there in that store, crying and literally looking like a one year old boy.
So, when that happened I thought (made associations) of the lights with the police. She wouldn't have had enough time to call the police, though. Who else would the cashier call? And as for a one year old, I thought of my nephew. Is that what happens to me in the light? I turn into that? Or, did someone take a picture of me and show it to me, like KS did at AN's house, and ask the ever popular question, "Who is this?" Or, "Who are you when you do this?" Making me associate with a picture has been done before (see the posts about McC, the store), and, also at McC, I associated (by accident) the light they shined on me with my sister, T.
There was another time when I saw myself in a big light. It was in 1999 shortly after I started at the job I still have. I was ready to leave, and looked over at a woman who was working there. I don't know if she called my name, or what, but I did look over that way. That time, the light lasted longer, it was more than a flash. It lasted long enough for me to take a few steps, and I realized I was acting like some girl I knew in grade school and had a cigarette. That girl started smoking right before I did and I thought I'd take up smoking, too. I did take up smoking. Now, that girl had relatives working there at the time, and outside the building, I heard someone say, "There's another thing you screwed up, _____." ( the blank is that girl's last name.)
Well, there's a few examples of how they try to make me go off at people in public. Or, just to make me look like a fool. These kinds of things, hopefully, shouldn't happen anymore. Ignoring those kinds of things as soon as they happen is the best thing to do. Even if they asked me something and I ignore them, they can always ask again. Most of the stuff people as me is pretty inane stuff. And if they're being "taught" to ask questions of some phony "alter personality" those harassers have created and trained/rehearsed/scheduled/timed, the answers are bound to be something really far fetched and I wouldn't recognize the answer as being my own. I don't even hear the questions or answers.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
SPRING, 1994
November 6, 2011 12:17 pm EST
Nothing exceptional happening in real life. Just the usual go to work, go to the store, and go home. My sisters who live in this city have been coming over to clean out the house of a lot of old stuff. AN died November 2 at the age of 56. Don't know how. I hadn't seen or spoken to her since about 1996. Didn't feel much about it in any respect. One of her friends she had known since grade school died earlier this year. Weird.
X contrived some BS about it. They tried to concoct some big drama, trying to blame "my problems" on her death, but there's nothing in me that's upset about it. As usual, X can put some old imprint of mine and try to make it suit her purpose. X has no shame. They did try some of their "spirits and ghosts are talking to you. Let them tell you the truth." For her, dead people are so useful.
So, as I "imagine"
It's just X and her two kids still making phony conversations between us, and replay (play out) these phony conversations for their audience of dupes. It's the same old stuff. Make stupid associations, put in intrusive thoughts to change the meaning of what I want to say, and just plain falsehoods.
When they play these phony conversations, they make sure I look like a fool so that they can say things like, "Isn't he drinking while he's saying that to you?" I don't drink, but they always suggest it, or suggest that I smoke pot (which I haven't since about 2000). And the ever popular, "He has to beat off, then you can find out what he's thinking." They are all liars.
I remember when I was in college in 1994 and the band Nirvana was playing at the sports arena at the college. I live about two blocks away, and I thought about going, but I didn't. I did read something in the college paper about Kurt Cobain. A letter to the editor was kind of cruel and said that he should just get it over with and kill himself.
Well, of course X jumped all over this and started playing psychodrama with me and using her kids, FF and CC. It lasted for several weeks, at least. According to their set up, I was supposed to imagine them to be Kurt and Courtney Cobain, and they were just soooo friendly and it was such an honor for me, etc. Bull crap.
It got to the point where Kurt was going to show me what his "real" problem was. I saw this guy open a door and some old lady was sitting there. And that was supposed to be his problem, that he was ashamed of his foreign grandmother who is kind of senile.
Something was up. That old woman looked an awful lot like FF's grandmother (X's mother), and I realized that it was just this crappy psychodrama played out by those harrassers. The next thing I remember was standing somewhere. It was a large room with a couple of steps leading up to a bar (?). Anyway, it looked like a basement rec room. Of course, I was holding a gun to my head ( I don't own one, and it isn't far fetched to think that FF gave it to me) and then FF came up to me and shook his head, took my hand (the one with the gun in it), and put it in my mouth then backed off smiling and nodding his head.
Then X shouted his name because she knew that he just created an imprint, but I was laughing because he actually thought that he was helping. Idiots. Then I remember being at home. It might have been the same time that the phony Kurt and Courtney came to visit me at my home! and what phony honor! etc, etc, etc. So, there I was at home and walking into the living room. Some guy was kneeling in front of my mother's usual chair. The guy was wearing camo, or some green Army uniform. I figured it was some guy who was put up to the "get his mother to commit him" charade (she never falls for it, but X and her family have been pulling this one a lot lately).
So the camo guy spoke to me, or however they get away with telling me stuff and, of course, have complete deniability (that they were never there, etc) and said, "Look at you." I looked at who was sitting in the chair (they could have also just shown me a photo or something). It was FF, the phony Kurt Cobain, with a guitar. For some reason I felt hysterical. The exact same feeling as the episode at McC's ( the store I worked at in 1985, see previous posts).
So, after seeing the guy in the Army uniform, my first thought was, "It's the government!" When I first came home from the so-called Navy stint (1986), my older sister was sitting in the living room, and when I walked in she looked at me (this was after X and her husband 'woke me up,' or as they put it, "We really smoked the B___ out.") and said, "It looks like a government job to me." In other words, she tried to put the idea into my head to blame the government instead of X and her relatives. I'm afraid that many people make that error.
So there I was. Walked into the living room, camo guy says, "Look at you." I saw that FF sitting in my mother's chair, and I'm hysterical, knowing that for some reason, they 'woke me up' again. And I say/think, "It's the government." And added, "Is that what the government did to me? Made me Kurt Cobain?" And i meant literally. I immediately thought about how stupid that was, and shook my head, turned around (had a weird feeling that I was imitating (the best word that fits nowadays) some girl I knew from grade school on (she has a name very similar, one changed letter, as CC--did someone call out CC's name but I wasn't making the connection that they wanted me to?).
So, I turned and thought, "I don't have time for this (their) crap. I got to study for exams." It was graduation year, too by the way, and after Cobain's death.
*X just made me forget something and wants one thousand dollars to make me remember. It was something about FF, her son. She can go to hell.*
Anyway, the next thing I remembered was X shouting, "It's right here," and poking me in the armpit. This might have been the same time that she jabbed me in the left shoulderblade several times (at least three, maybe five times) and said, "There he is," i.e that's how to wake up the "me" she created. I only remember her in the living room once, so that and the, "It's right here," comment could have been the same day.
Jabbing in the armpit. What does that mean? Pit-high school courtyard students were allowed to smoke in-cigarettes- then what? At McC's, some lady asked me, "How do you remember?" I said, "I don't know, smoke (light?) a cigarette." Those harrassers always have a trigger to start the remembering bull.
FF has lately been saying, "He thinks he's Kurt Cobain." Then when I freely admit to it, and ask him to tell them the rest of the story, he doesn't know what to say. He and his sister bring up college a lot lately. "Oh, how hard you worked on your degree," etc. Personally, I don't think it's a big deal, but they seem to think, or make me want to feel, that it was such a waste of time, and how sad it is. They're pretty stupid and they really don't know me. They always just root around for something to make me crash, as they put it, or get me frustrated, etc.
FF recently, about a month or so ago, after one of these "too bad you spent time at college" things, said that his mother X said that it wouldn't look good for them if I graduated college. At the time, it felt like I was mainly left alone while going to college, or they just didn't put me through some sort of "debriefing/remembering" time about what they pulled on me at an earlier time. But they really did screw me with their Cobain crap.
I met, for real, some of X's friends at college. My parents knew the same people, for the most part, and from what they saw of me at the university, it sure doesn't match what they would expect from listening to X, who changes her opinions as much as the wind blows. For example, when I visited her for real, by myself, she mentioned my oldest sister, and how T made a good life for herself despite being maimed by a stroke. I thought to myself, "You wouldn't say that if you knew that T claims all the males in your family raped her." Of course X must have heard (I must have been talking out loud) because she immediately added, "But I think she's braing damaged because of her stroke," or something to that effect. So, the roadways are littered with the bodies of people whom X has thrown under her bus.
I heard the same type of talk at the warehouse I work at. I was helping some woman's daughter with math homework, and wrote out some things out for her to give to her daughter. She said, "Oh, he's crazy but he can write this out off the top of his head?" I heard the same kind of thing in 1988. After three months of working at a drug store, a coworker came up to me and asked me if I was related to my sister, J. I said yeah. Turns out, the coworker went to school with J since grade school, and started quizzing me about, "You're mother's crazy, isn't she? Did she (J) have that Arab guys baby?" After a few minutes she stopped, looked at me, and said, "You're not at all like J described you." Biggest compliment I've gotten to date.
So, I think that I'm Kurt Cobain? Leading people by the nose while they're sleeping, induce trauma (physical and mental) playing on fears, threatening (when you get home, your parents will be dead and they'll blame you. We're going to hang you and say you killed yourself. Etc, etc, etc.), and I couldn't care less of what I thought/said.
X had to show herself. Actually, I didn't see her, but I know it was her. She thought she had a knock out blow (pun intended), and nothing I will ever say after that should not be believed. Ever. Don't care much if people believe me or not. Some of them are forced to fight her battles. They don't want to end up like me, i.e. having to have her speak for me, and only she has the answers, etc. She's duping them. She's a criminal and so are her kids.
FF showed himself to be the harrasser and dupe that he is. X uses him to no end for harrassment, makes sure to direct his hatred toward me, and never even explains to him why. He got caught teaching someone how to kill themself. Not in the temple, but up the mouth. OK, how would he know? He's probably thought of it doing it himself.
And they do have a good imprint (from their point of view), but how many times can they play imprints over and over until the public and their dupes get tired of it? I'm so used to being harrassed by them for the last 27 years (44 years, if you count the first grade incident--see previous posts) that even I hate myself. Ha ha. I think/said that to them a while ago. "You're smear campaign against me and my family worked really well. Even I hate myself."
That's the way that went. He thinks he's Kurt Cobain, and I'm sure X had her phony shock/gasp/suprised/never would have known attitude all played out.
*CC is now reading words from some textbook. "You won't remember potential. You won't remember . . ." this and that. Her and her brother FF did that before. Standing next to me, CC in some 1890's get up to remind me of Mae West, and FF in some stupid cowboy outfit, which I don't get any connection at all, and while I was figuring some math problems they were saying, "You don't know your numbers. That's wrong. Do that problem over. Write a 4." And their commands work. Like the guy at work mentioned, it's the sight of some people (the ones that X chooses--at work, at the store, etc.) that induce some sort of episode that X wants played out. But in the end, telling me things like I don't know my numbers, etc, won't last very long. They can interfere, but they can't make things go away.*
Nothing exceptional happening in real life. Just the usual go to work, go to the store, and go home. My sisters who live in this city have been coming over to clean out the house of a lot of old stuff. AN died November 2 at the age of 56. Don't know how. I hadn't seen or spoken to her since about 1996. Didn't feel much about it in any respect. One of her friends she had known since grade school died earlier this year. Weird.
X contrived some BS about it. They tried to concoct some big drama, trying to blame "my problems" on her death, but there's nothing in me that's upset about it. As usual, X can put some old imprint of mine and try to make it suit her purpose. X has no shame. They did try some of their "spirits and ghosts are talking to you. Let them tell you the truth." For her, dead people are so useful.
So, as I "imagine"
It's just X and her two kids still making phony conversations between us, and replay (play out) these phony conversations for their audience of dupes. It's the same old stuff. Make stupid associations, put in intrusive thoughts to change the meaning of what I want to say, and just plain falsehoods.
When they play these phony conversations, they make sure I look like a fool so that they can say things like, "Isn't he drinking while he's saying that to you?" I don't drink, but they always suggest it, or suggest that I smoke pot (which I haven't since about 2000). And the ever popular, "He has to beat off, then you can find out what he's thinking." They are all liars.
I remember when I was in college in 1994 and the band Nirvana was playing at the sports arena at the college. I live about two blocks away, and I thought about going, but I didn't. I did read something in the college paper about Kurt Cobain. A letter to the editor was kind of cruel and said that he should just get it over with and kill himself.
Well, of course X jumped all over this and started playing psychodrama with me and using her kids, FF and CC. It lasted for several weeks, at least. According to their set up, I was supposed to imagine them to be Kurt and Courtney Cobain, and they were just soooo friendly and it was such an honor for me, etc. Bull crap.
It got to the point where Kurt was going to show me what his "real" problem was. I saw this guy open a door and some old lady was sitting there. And that was supposed to be his problem, that he was ashamed of his foreign grandmother who is kind of senile.
Something was up. That old woman looked an awful lot like FF's grandmother (X's mother), and I realized that it was just this crappy psychodrama played out by those harrassers. The next thing I remember was standing somewhere. It was a large room with a couple of steps leading up to a bar (?). Anyway, it looked like a basement rec room. Of course, I was holding a gun to my head ( I don't own one, and it isn't far fetched to think that FF gave it to me) and then FF came up to me and shook his head, took my hand (the one with the gun in it), and put it in my mouth then backed off smiling and nodding his head.
Then X shouted his name because she knew that he just created an imprint, but I was laughing because he actually thought that he was helping. Idiots. Then I remember being at home. It might have been the same time that the phony Kurt and Courtney came to visit me at my home! and what phony honor! etc, etc, etc. So, there I was at home and walking into the living room. Some guy was kneeling in front of my mother's usual chair. The guy was wearing camo, or some green Army uniform. I figured it was some guy who was put up to the "get his mother to commit him" charade (she never falls for it, but X and her family have been pulling this one a lot lately).
So the camo guy spoke to me, or however they get away with telling me stuff and, of course, have complete deniability (that they were never there, etc) and said, "Look at you." I looked at who was sitting in the chair (they could have also just shown me a photo or something). It was FF, the phony Kurt Cobain, with a guitar. For some reason I felt hysterical. The exact same feeling as the episode at McC's ( the store I worked at in 1985, see previous posts).
So, after seeing the guy in the Army uniform, my first thought was, "It's the government!" When I first came home from the so-called Navy stint (1986), my older sister was sitting in the living room, and when I walked in she looked at me (this was after X and her husband 'woke me up,' or as they put it, "We really smoked the B___ out.") and said, "It looks like a government job to me." In other words, she tried to put the idea into my head to blame the government instead of X and her relatives. I'm afraid that many people make that error.
So there I was. Walked into the living room, camo guy says, "Look at you." I saw that FF sitting in my mother's chair, and I'm hysterical, knowing that for some reason, they 'woke me up' again. And I say/think, "It's the government." And added, "Is that what the government did to me? Made me Kurt Cobain?" And i meant literally. I immediately thought about how stupid that was, and shook my head, turned around (had a weird feeling that I was imitating (the best word that fits nowadays) some girl I knew from grade school on (she has a name very similar, one changed letter, as CC--did someone call out CC's name but I wasn't making the connection that they wanted me to?).
So, I turned and thought, "I don't have time for this (their) crap. I got to study for exams." It was graduation year, too by the way, and after Cobain's death.
*X just made me forget something and wants one thousand dollars to make me remember. It was something about FF, her son. She can go to hell.*
Anyway, the next thing I remembered was X shouting, "It's right here," and poking me in the armpit. This might have been the same time that she jabbed me in the left shoulderblade several times (at least three, maybe five times) and said, "There he is," i.e that's how to wake up the "me" she created. I only remember her in the living room once, so that and the, "It's right here," comment could have been the same day.
Jabbing in the armpit. What does that mean? Pit-high school courtyard students were allowed to smoke in-cigarettes- then what? At McC's, some lady asked me, "How do you remember?" I said, "I don't know, smoke (light?) a cigarette." Those harrassers always have a trigger to start the remembering bull.
FF has lately been saying, "He thinks he's Kurt Cobain." Then when I freely admit to it, and ask him to tell them the rest of the story, he doesn't know what to say. He and his sister bring up college a lot lately. "Oh, how hard you worked on your degree," etc. Personally, I don't think it's a big deal, but they seem to think, or make me want to feel, that it was such a waste of time, and how sad it is. They're pretty stupid and they really don't know me. They always just root around for something to make me crash, as they put it, or get me frustrated, etc.
FF recently, about a month or so ago, after one of these "too bad you spent time at college" things, said that his mother X said that it wouldn't look good for them if I graduated college. At the time, it felt like I was mainly left alone while going to college, or they just didn't put me through some sort of "debriefing/remembering" time about what they pulled on me at an earlier time. But they really did screw me with their Cobain crap.
I met, for real, some of X's friends at college. My parents knew the same people, for the most part, and from what they saw of me at the university, it sure doesn't match what they would expect from listening to X, who changes her opinions as much as the wind blows. For example, when I visited her for real, by myself, she mentioned my oldest sister, and how T made a good life for herself despite being maimed by a stroke. I thought to myself, "You wouldn't say that if you knew that T claims all the males in your family raped her." Of course X must have heard (I must have been talking out loud) because she immediately added, "But I think she's braing damaged because of her stroke," or something to that effect. So, the roadways are littered with the bodies of people whom X has thrown under her bus.
I heard the same type of talk at the warehouse I work at. I was helping some woman's daughter with math homework, and wrote out some things out for her to give to her daughter. She said, "Oh, he's crazy but he can write this out off the top of his head?" I heard the same kind of thing in 1988. After three months of working at a drug store, a coworker came up to me and asked me if I was related to my sister, J. I said yeah. Turns out, the coworker went to school with J since grade school, and started quizzing me about, "You're mother's crazy, isn't she? Did she (J) have that Arab guys baby?" After a few minutes she stopped, looked at me, and said, "You're not at all like J described you." Biggest compliment I've gotten to date.
So, I think that I'm Kurt Cobain? Leading people by the nose while they're sleeping, induce trauma (physical and mental) playing on fears, threatening (when you get home, your parents will be dead and they'll blame you. We're going to hang you and say you killed yourself. Etc, etc, etc.), and I couldn't care less of what I thought/said.
X had to show herself. Actually, I didn't see her, but I know it was her. She thought she had a knock out blow (pun intended), and nothing I will ever say after that should not be believed. Ever. Don't care much if people believe me or not. Some of them are forced to fight her battles. They don't want to end up like me, i.e. having to have her speak for me, and only she has the answers, etc. She's duping them. She's a criminal and so are her kids.
FF showed himself to be the harrasser and dupe that he is. X uses him to no end for harrassment, makes sure to direct his hatred toward me, and never even explains to him why. He got caught teaching someone how to kill themself. Not in the temple, but up the mouth. OK, how would he know? He's probably thought of it doing it himself.
And they do have a good imprint (from their point of view), but how many times can they play imprints over and over until the public and their dupes get tired of it? I'm so used to being harrassed by them for the last 27 years (44 years, if you count the first grade incident--see previous posts) that even I hate myself. Ha ha. I think/said that to them a while ago. "You're smear campaign against me and my family worked really well. Even I hate myself."
That's the way that went. He thinks he's Kurt Cobain, and I'm sure X had her phony shock/gasp/suprised/never would have known attitude all played out.
*CC is now reading words from some textbook. "You won't remember potential. You won't remember . . ." this and that. Her and her brother FF did that before. Standing next to me, CC in some 1890's get up to remind me of Mae West, and FF in some stupid cowboy outfit, which I don't get any connection at all, and while I was figuring some math problems they were saying, "You don't know your numbers. That's wrong. Do that problem over. Write a 4." And their commands work. Like the guy at work mentioned, it's the sight of some people (the ones that X chooses--at work, at the store, etc.) that induce some sort of episode that X wants played out. But in the end, telling me things like I don't know my numbers, etc, won't last very long. They can interfere, but they can't make things go away.*
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