Part Two

The other part of my private hell I haven’t really posted is THE FIRE.  Last year, in January, the homeless shelter/home that is associated with these apartments burnt down.  The firemen decided it was arson.  It was set in the middle of the night, at 4am, and I had people knocking on the door at 5am.  The house was burnt beyond repair.  My landlady’s friend became a permanent resident here despite my landlady saying she would only be here for 6 months while they raised funds to get a new house to rent for a shelter.  That was 14 months ago and this woman eggs my landlady on into harassing me even more, so much, that I spend every day in the kitchen because it’s the only part of the apartment where her apartment isn’t overhead.  I hate even going to the bathroom or showering because she watches!!!  She comes out into the hall which is one wall away from the bathroom and hangs around!!!

Back to the fire.  The firemen and police never found a suspect and I didn’t think even my hellish landlady would have the gall to blame me for it.  But she did.  She sweetly lied and told me the investigation was over last April but the building still stands in all it’s crusty glory looming.  It was supposed to have been sold, torn down, and offices put there.  I even went there myself to help my landlady’s friend and others take things out of the house that were salvageable.  If I had DONE IT I don’t think I would have had the gall to go back there and go in there again and again taking stuff out of a dirty cold dangerous burnt home.  I even went in my landlady’s friend’s ROOM.  It was gutted. She was crying. I would have avoided it and the street it was on like the fucking plague if I had done it.

I didn’t know my landlady was gossiping about me until last March when I was sitting outside on a warm day and overheard my neighbor talking about the fire and hearing “J. knows SHE did it but won’t call the cops.”  I confronted my landlady who in her best actressy way, sweetly denied it and put the blame on my friend saying SHE accused me of it but that she, Ms. Landlady, thought it was ridiculous.  The gossip continued.  I heard all my neighbors talking about it.  Even their children would come up to me on bikes and scooters and say “busted!!”

The handyman that helps us with projects for a reduced rate seemed rude and cold to me last Fall when he was here.  I told my lovely landlady and she said, ” ooooh he’s just fine.” ” When he comes to work on your place after he’s done with what he’s doing he will be fine.”  He was “fine”, his old friendly self, for the few minutes he was there.  Later, as he was out there with my landlady who was paying him, they chatted.  I decided to join the chat.  He was talking about all the development in this city and mentioned his old street.  He said my old street is ON FIRE!!!  I gave him a dirty look at the word “fire” and he left in a big hurry.  THAT IS WHY HE WAS COLD TO ME.  He has always been nice, even when everyone else has treated me like crap.  God only knows who else this poison has spread to.

I have my own theories as to who started the fire.  I have no proof.  But it was strange my landlady was out of town thousands of miles away and her friend was spending the night over HERE.  Also, I read online that one of the residents saw the fire starting and tried to turn on the hose to douse it and the hose was not working.  Inside job.  Also, the fire was set near to where the kitchen stove was so whoever did it knew the place would blow if the stove got involved.  Inside job.  Whether the suspect was a disgruntled ex-resident who got kicked out, or, someone associated with me who wanted me out of here: read, my “neighbor” who never hid her objective for coming here was to get me out,  I’ll never know because the fire dept dropped the ball and called it an “accident” after all.  It would be just too convenient to have me kicked out of here, hauled off to prison to rot and to never come back and probably be homeless the rest of my life if I got out.  I’d probably have to perp for a living just to survive.

My landlady just keeps denying that she blames me and sweetly keeps telling me that it was an “accident”, like someone threw a cigarette in the back of the house and it and the whole house caught fire, but I’m not buying it.  No one but one person was hurt, but many could have died!!! I’ve prayed to God over and over to reveal and punish the arsonist but He does nothing, nothing.  My landlady is even worse now.  She never leaves home except for about 5-6 hours a week when she absolutely has to.  She takes very short trips to the laundromat or to the post office otherwise and that’s it.  She hangs around upstairs and watches me and never leaves.  When her friend, who got burnt out, is here it’s even worse.  They sit upstairs and talk about me loudly so I can hear.  You can understand my joy when she and her friend left on Saturday and I could watch a video she “forbade”.  She even “forbids” me to watch my favorite online pastor with the threat of course being in home imprisonment.

I’m now angry with God for this.  He’s had a year to get the arsonist, nine years to get me out of this apt when my landlady turned el perpo in a big way, and eight years to get the hag out of my life.  The hag sits with her two boyfriends and cushy church job and makes my life hell.  I once told her she was ruining my life and she told me in her gravelly demon voice that I did not have a life.  She was right.  I have stopped doing Bible Study because that was the last straw with God.  I have lived in an increasing hell for 30 years and now even my basic physical freedom is threatened.  My mind is read, my clothes scrutinized, my Web browsing scrutinized, EVERYTHING.  God is AWOL.  When I went into sin back in 2007-2011 this was the case:  it seemed God wasn’t there or offered me lollipops for gaping wounds.

Another perp that lives behind me has stopped working and trolls around the neighborhood gossiping about me to anyone, including construction workers, who will listen.  He has all new cars.  He struts around like he’s the prince of Wales.  He’s built high fences that jut into the alley so I can’t see down the alley if I sit outside.  He has bright spotlights and cameras out back so if I sit outside at night in summer I have to sit on the ground to avoid all the light.  My new neighbors who live in a renovated old apt home installed a back motion light that shines like the sun when a person or animal or even a leaf blows by.  I heard the boss of that project tell his workers to make the light “longer” on my side.  People come out to laugh at me no matter how late in summer especially the neighbor behind me two doors down who turns on his PURPLE LIGHT outside and goes on his back porch and mocks me.

I can’t take it anymore.  I need prayer since I can’t seem to get ahold of God myself.

Every time I hear a siren or see a cop or fireman, which seems to be very often, I get scared.  I once even saw a fireman hiking in the mountains on a trail when my friend took me on a day trip to get out of here.  I think they are doing the perp thing and psyching me out.  Why God won’t judge my lying landlady is beyond me.  It isn’t her first rodeo when it comes to deeply hurting me.  I want out of here but it’s either here or the streets. I’ve had empty promises on and off line to help me move but nothing happens.  The hag 2 doors down announced she want’s to “spend the rest of her life” here.  NO.

My lovely landlady wants to “spend the rest of her life” here, too.  Even after she retires.  Maybe I’ll tear that rag she wears on her head off so she’ll kick me out.

What my life is really like

I have been waiting a long time to post what is really happening to me.  But no one listens. Everyone is complicit.

I am a virtual prisoner in my apartment.  On Saturday I just stood outside waiting for my friend to come to bring in her laundry and to park her car because there is construction surrounding this place.  My “neighbor” started with one of her tirades about me being outside even though she wasn’t outside or even had the door open.  I had been standing with my back to her apartment silently waiting.  She has had many tirades before and even called the cops on me for a “welfare check” when I was silently sitting on the porch.  She has gotten me in trouble with my  complicit landlady (more about HER later) and virtually turned every black person in this city against me.

I said or said at “her” that I had a right to stand outside and wait and she said in her demonic gravelly voice that “you have no rights”.  She kept complaining loudly to her “boyfriend” who is young enough to be her son about me. The old hag was in BED.  It was only 7pm.  She is nearly 80 years old and has two younger “boyfriends” living with her despite the fact she WORKS AT A CHURCH.  The other one has a good job and is younger than ME and does not have to live off her like the other loser.  I have been putting up with this bitch since 2009.  My landlady will do nothing to help me but blames me or calls me crazy every time this old bitch goes on one of her tirades.

My friend showed up and I parked the car but a creepy perpish man hung around even after we got out of his way.  He said “have a nice day” and roared off after I parked the car.  Later, we decided to go to the store.  We walked back out to the parking place and another car was out there.  Full of creepy criminal looking men.  As we pulled out, one of them who had all gold teeth screamed, “I’m gonna murder you!”  Strange though, he did not follow us or shoot at us.

We went to the store and I got my usual perping with one strange perp guy saying “I looove your orange jacket” in a weird way, like, “I love your prison clothes.”  After the shopping was done I waited in her car for her to use the restroom and one of the security guards took my picture twice with his phone as I sat there.  I confronted him and got the usual perp smirkiness and a denial.

When we came back to my “apartment” (read prison cell) the car with all the punks was not there and I decided we should park somewhere else where the parking would not be so tight.  As I was getting ready to unload the car and bring her stuff in because she thought toilet paper and paper towels (big economy sizes) would be stolen, ANOTHER car, the third, pulled up, full of people, blaring rap music.  We whipped out our phones ready to call 911 and they drove off.  I thought this latest incident from my “neighbor” who is actually very friendly with the cops, was over.

The next day, I let my cat out because the construction people finally took a day off.  My cat was exploring around our CLOSED OFF street when a red car came up and nearly HIT her!!!  Then the woman wearing a crayon blue hoodie just drove up and stared at me satanically and drove off.  I could not fathom what set my “neighbor” off so much this time.

Then it came to me.  My “landlady”, a complicit satanic narcissistic perp, was gone and I had WATCHED A VIDEO of a woman putting on purple hair and makeup for a special party.  My landlady is always home and always surveilling me like a prison guard and constantly V2king me telling me what to do.  On Saturday, she finally left.  She tells me what videos to watch, what to wear, etc…the punishment always being the SAME.  I won’t be able to leave my apartment.  I have been living as a prisoner like this under her and other perp threats for years.  I used to get out every day for a walk despite the targetting until they left dead animals in my path and I almost got arrested for just taking a walk.

Now, this man has to come pick me up to even to an appointment two miles away because I have been threatened on the bus.  These people threatened and mocked me across town on the way to Sam’s Club and said that “harassment wasn’t enough and that it was time to get physical” along with other taunts and accusations that I was racist.  I suddenly became “racist” after Obama took power.

Back to my “neighbor”.  I think she was torqued off because I had taken the BUS BY MYSELF on Friday to my therapist AND got groceries ALONE.  They want me to be weak and dependent.  This man lives 30 miles away (and has been followed out of here) and uses a lot of time and gas to get me to appointments and that day he refused to come since he had been out to my place twice that week already.  I had taken A FEW bus/train trips alone this past year without any perp repercussions but this time was different.  That, and watching the video with purple set the old hag off.  It seems that wearing any purple at all makes them go crazy now, like they own the color purple.  They also try to not get me to wear blue, green, yellow, any colors but orange, brown, white or gray in fact, colors prisoners wear.

They don’t let me wear purple or blue since 2005, but they would let me “get away” with wearing purple or blue nail polish but not now.  It’s gotten even worse since Trump.  I once heard the old hag in her house saying if I wore purple another neighbor would put a curse on me.  I thought God would protect me from that shit and I put on purple nail polish OUTSIDE in front of her loser boyfriend and then had the worst two days of my life.  I felt like I was losing my mind.  My control only came back to me after I took the polish off.  I bought some blue polish and wore it and people (especially blacks) walked around in blue and yellow for weeks.

I’m a prisoner here in this apartment.  Even taking out the trash is a big production, always running into several perps along the way.  Even the homeless people around here perp.  I figured they would be sympathetic since they have lost everything, but, they get paid too.  If I sit outside all the neighbors come out.  The man who comes and picks me up has had many near misses in his car since he started driving me everywhere.  Once, they almost killed him when he was on the highway out of town with his wife.  Another time he had a “near miss” when he was picking up his son to go to lunch.  He’s had countless other near misses and a minor accident that I swear was a perp warning.  The cops never came and the man was driving a 20 year old black stupid Honda and my friend had to PAY HIM to repair his stupid old car.

I can’t even sit outside.  Every day, people walk by or even sit across from my apartment in the alley or even the sidewalk for hours.  They threaten me or just sit and laugh with their friends or look in my window. I’m a prisoner.  Oh, I also took a THREE BLOCK WALK on Saturday.  Maybe that set the bitch off, too.  I took the walk to see if anyone would stop me.  I’ve had cars full of men drive up to me when I’m on foot (not very often) and tell me to “go home”.

God seems to be absent.  Being a prisoner is the last straw.  If He can’t protect me from this even, He’s not doing anything.  They could starve me in here.  Prevent me from getting medicine.  I’ve been praying lately, but for the past 1.5 years or more it’s like praying to the wall.  My perp landlady and her friend even kicked the wall above me and laughed “she’s praying to JESUS!!!”  one day.  I confronted her and asked her if there was a problem and of course she said everything was fine and implied I was crazy AGAIN.  This landlady used to act like she was my friend for years before she turned into the landlady from hell.

People used to kind of see her as my protector and didn’t mess with me too much here until she became Miss Perp.  But there’s even more…

Yet another video to watch

The latest video by pineconeutopia was great!  I know one of the contributors is a crazy Antisemite but this video is a great video for ti’s (we need a better name) and non-ti’s to watch.  The people the host Paul Marco has on his show are intelligent and articulate and not nuts by any means!  Some ti’s come across as “loser” types on videos (probably because everything is taken from us) but these three women are intelligent and funny.  One woman is an author, another worked high up at the NSA, and the other worked on CERN.  No “losers”.  The man who hates Jews had to be absent this day for some reason.  So, if you have two hours to kill, there are far worse ways to spend your time!  This video was live so there was a chat room but I missed the chat because it was on early to accommodate one of the guests who lives in Europe, Katherine Horton.  They plan on having other video chats live.

Eight

Just recently, I went on a website where former patients of a children’s hospital got together.  I lived there way back in 1974.  Back then, there was little they could do for our disease but they did the best they could to show us how to handle day to day life.  I didn’t post on the site because I only remembered maybe 4 kids from my experience and I wasn’t that popular.  My parents dragged me out of there after five months for seemingly no reason except I was gaining weight due to Prednisone, and had been spanked for something or another.

There were good memories and bad there.  We went on many activities for fun and the counselors tried to make it feel like home since it wasn’t a correctional place or a loony bin– like I got put into later.  I remember being old enough to house with older girls but wanting to stay with the little kids because the older girls seemed bitchy.  I was right on the line age wise.  I found two other girls in my unit who were also older that wanted to stay on the little kids unit.  One was nine and another ten, then she turned eleven.   I was eight, almost nine, and the older girls were up to twelve and I didn’t want to stay there.

We three girls had a room in “our” cottage together with maybe 20 other kids.  The other two girls would pick on me sometimes so I would hide up in the top of my closet to get away.  I’d also check myself into the infirmary a lot to get away.  Sometimes the two other girls would get along with me then suddenly turn.  I remember hanging out with other kids but the faces have faded away.  We’d sneak off campus and get essentially citric acid or “sour salt” at a local grocery or buy lemons and suck on them.  I guess they were cheaper than candy.

We were not allowed to see our parents for the most part.  We could only write.  A stamp was a dime.  I celebrated my ninth birthday there and do not remember a party.  One time my Aunt came from her house a few blocks away and I saw her waiting for me in the main building sitting stiffly in her green skirt with her dyed black hair in it’s French twist. Her umbrella, which she used as a cane, was in front of her.  I was happy to see her.  She was my favorite Aunt then.  I would write my parents weekly and they came to see me once. I guess it must have been my birthday or before since it was still warm and we went to my favorite restaurant at the time: A & W, which was more like a Sonic then–you drove up and your food was delivered.

On the weekends, us kids were expected to worship–somewhere.  Since I was Jewish I was sent miles away to the opposite side of town from my parents to stay with a family all weekend.  All I remember was that they had a ranch house like my family and two sons but no girls to play with.  There was synagogue on Saturday but I was expected to return to “Sunday School” on Sunday since the family was Reform.  We had our Sabbath School on Saturday at my synagogue.  This was taking up all my weekend and I did not like being at the home of a strange couple when I could at least be back at the hospital hanging with the other kids and maybe sneaking out to the store or going to the Arcade or amusement park, as an activity on Saturday.  I complained.  They then sent me to a weird little Greek Orthodox church near the hospital with a bunch of other kids where there was incense and priests in brightly colored robes and “church bread”.  I never saw the couple and the two sons again.  I thought it was weird, anyway, since I could have gone home on the weekend to attend our synagogue and Sabbath School.  Was it really home, though?  Was it just an illusion of home?

Some time before the hospital, I remember my Mother coming in my room and sitting on my bed and talking about taking me to live at the hospital.  My symptoms had been worse, and I needed a shot virtually every day when I came home from school near the end of 3rd grade.  She didn’t talk about my symptoms, though.  She talked about HERSELF.  She started saying that it was hard on HER to have me at home and that SHE needed a break.  She said my behavior made it hard for HER to stand me and that the hospital was the break SHE needed.  Shit, I was EIGHT, not eighteen.  I then felt like a burden, defective.  I was trash and needed to be thrown away.

I was there five months and Summer turned to Fall and Fall to Winter.  I had attended school at another school for a semester.  I had grown a bit and gained weight.  My stomach stuck out like I was pregnant and my face was big.  My counselors on the unit announced I was going to leave–they did not think my disease was under enough control yet but my parents wanted me out.  My hair was shaggy because my “roommate” had cut it.

The last night I was there, 3 counselors sat at my bed in the dark and said they were sorry to see me go and that they did not like I was going back to my parents.  They said my parents did a bad job and that I had “improved” emotionally at the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.  I thought that was strange.  My parents were causing me to be abnormal and to be lonely? I sobbed in dread of “home”.   I didn’t want to leave the hospital either, which came back to that couple on the other side of town…were they looking to adopt?  Were the staff at the hospital talking to Human Services to get me out of my parents’ home?  Did they feel their hands were tied since my Father was a lawyer?  Did my parents know they were looking to declare them unfit and give me away to another family?  Did they really  want me back or were they worried what “the neighbors would say”?

The years went by at home and things got so bad by puberty I had withdrawn into a fantasy world.  Soon the hospital would be a memory.  It would close when I was in jr. high and I forgot about it when I went into that locked ward.  THAT hospital I really remember.

The reason this all came up was that I saw a movie called “Custody” where a very poor Mexican woman has to fight for months to get her kids back after a nosy neighbor tells on her when she disciplines her child.  This woman worked for nearly minimum wage and was a single mother.  Her husband was in prison.  She struggled to survive but loved her kids.  Her oldest was about EIGHT.  After a long fight and missing hours of work she could not afford her kids come home in time for Christmas.

My mother was the complete opposite.  She was educated, lived on the right side of town, and did not have to work.  I had problems but my family could afford to take me to doctors.  My mother was moody and flew into rages when I was young.  She vastly preferred my sister.  She was cold, yet overstrict and overprotective.  She never said she loved me until she was dying and it was too late.

The year I was eight was weird anyway.  First, my family did not celebrate my birthday that year for some reason.  My mother was in one of her angry states and we ended up having eggs that year for dinner.  I don’t even remember a gift.  That year my parents fought a lot and I ended up meeting and staying with my Aunt for the first time.  I was dropped off there for a few nights when they were fighting and I could not stay at Grandma’s in those days due to allergies.

That spring, I stole a knick knack and got my sister to do it, too.  We were sent back to the store to return them.  I was always sick.  Something was off.

I still wonder what if???  What if I had been adopted out to a loving family that accepted me?  Would I still have become a target?  My Mother always preferred my sister over me, but, there were a few acts of pure kindness she showed me after I grew up.  It was only after my Mother died that the family started to really push me away.  She also insisted I be a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding.  Maybe she changed and started to accept me more.  I’ll never know.  She has been gone 22 years.

My remaining “family” stopped speaking to me over a decade ago.  I bet I would still be celebrating holidays at my new home if I had gotten adopted, and I would not have been locked up in the state hospital like a dog.

In 1974, after a brief stay at another hospital for MORE tests, I was home for Christmas.

A Strange Concept

I read the strangest thing  online.  This woman, who also makes YouTube videos, has an article online where she describes the “game” evil people play to get the good out of life while we seemingly get “punished” by God by getting evil.  Some begin to question their faith or even abandon it thinking they aren’t really God’s people when it is really the enemy that steals the blessings of the good and swaps them the curses due to them.  I’ve listened to this woman’s videos and they are odd, but, this is a concept I have never heard.  She said it was old as time.  You have to read deep into the article which is controversial and anti Israel and anti black to find it.  It is only in one paragraph where she describes good people getting the “fools reward” instead of blessings that get stolen by the evil. Most of the article, except for the Scripture verses is well, conspiracy.  There are some interesting videos linked at the end.

I have also heard that the evil suck the energy out of people because they have none of their own and a target who was once kind, and compassionate and energetic becomes lazy and depressed because all the good is being milked out of them.  Also, I have heard that the evil ones create bad situations for victims to create “loosh” or negative energy, that they feed on like food to keep going.  That could partially explain all the magazines about celebrities exposing their flaws and enjoying the problems in their lives and chasing them with the perparazzi.  The articles and TV shows provide a kind of “loosh” for the soul dead populance.

The article on loosh says that 9/11 was a mass loosh harvest for the elite’s demonic overlords.  You have to click to subscription box off to easily read the article.

PS  She made her last YouTube video about a year ago.