It’s all over

For years, I have noticed God was at a distance from me.  I even heard I lost my salvation in 2010!  I’m still not sure if it’s the psychopath perps who were trying to set me up to go crazy or kill myself, or really God, but my evil landlady acted like it was GREAT!  She came up to the window that night and said “gotcha” with a smirk on her ugly face.

I tried to end backsliding and come back to God.  I did Bible studies online, fasted, prayed, etc…but still felt lost.  I was cruelly treated at a “Christian” coffeehouse even having some strange (perp?) woman say “you are soooo lost” out of the blue.  The people I tried to hang out with online who were Christians all ran away after a few months.

These past two years have been the worst.  Praying to God has been like praying to the wall.  I have an increasingly psychopathic and cruel landlady, that evil neighbor, accusations against me, people acting like I don’t even have a right to be outside, etc, etc, etc,…

So I thought I would test God, try God to see if He was still there.  I asked him to get my landlady away from me or to move out, get that horrible neighbor out of here, and also to save me or restore me, whatever the case.  I would plead every morning to be saved and to “not go to bed lost”.  I would go to bed lost.  Most importantly to me, I prayed from day one, that the person who caused the fire be found and arrested.  No dice.  I have lived for over a year in terror wondering every time I see a siren or see a cop since my twisted landlady started going around the neighbors and her friends accusing ME then telling them..”but I don’t call the cops”.  All the perp sheeple she told could have but didn’t.  They knew she was lying.

Now there has been another fire.  On my block.  There’s lots of fires around here.  The Dumpster closest to my apartment caught on fire a few years ago, a house two blocks away burned to the ground about 3 years ago, then the homeless shelter burned.  Now, an abandoned house at the end of MY block has burned.  There are lots of other fires that have burned in the area,  if you have an empty house around, it’s almost guaranteed to burn. The authorities should be looking for a serial arsonist but the cops seem to only be there to serve and protect their perp buddies.

God is absent.  I have been living lost so long I forgot what it was like to be saved.  I’m a “lifer” ti with no future.  I can’t even go places by myself for fear of getting assaulted.  I even won’t walk to the store 1/2 mile away!  My future will be even worse.  There is now a cell microwave tower outside my front door.  I felt overheated last night despite it being a cool night and the heat not being on.

Nothing works:  praying, fasting, singing, Bible study, etc…..I gave up following my band 6 1/2 years ago.  I gave up rock music. I am tired to death of Christian music.  Nothing is good enough.  No one will help me to move out of here.  I heard another “neighbor” doing directed conversation on the phone saying something was “going to happen”.  I was listening to his conversation about me and saw 2 cops ON HORSES outside and it looked as if I was spying.  One of the cops did the perp nose salute and made some comments like “it’s too bad, it’s a pity, etc…as they rode by.

I have nothing to look forward to.  Why should I just sit and rot and grow to be an old ti?  What a waste!  Should I let my tormentors continue to feed and house me for the next 20 or 30 years while I sit on my ass and do nothing but be miserable?  I’m sick of seeing my old ugly face in the mirror.

Don’t ever get God so mad He does not come back.


Something about yesterday’s podcast

Yesterday’s podcast of Pineconeutopia pointed out the fact that ti Millicent Black had a romantic relationship with her perp before her harassment and electronic torture started.

I had a “boyfriend” that I broke off with (the one with the dad at Lockheed Martin) right before I noticed things were odd.  I was an outcast my whole life but now the weird stuff was happening like getting pulled over by police 6 times in a month and discovering people watching me…that was only the beginning of course.

I rejected this man and instead of him begging me to stay with him or asking me why I wanted to break up, he cruelly said “all my friends hate you” and started ripping me apart in the restaurant we were at.  I wanted to leave town to essentially be a groupie.  I did not see why this breakup would be such a big deal to him since he treated me like a second class girlfriend.

When I begged to move in with him to get away from my parents (pre religion days) he said “no”.  When I expressed an interest in a band coming to town he took someone else.  He never bought me a nice gift.  I felt like I was a place holder until he could get a “real” girlfriend.  I guess he just thought he wanted to control me and that I was a second class citizen and HOW DARE I break up with him!

I considered this man physically unattractive and really didn’t want to go out with him in the first place but he seemed very nice and at ease at first.  His family acted nicely towards me and since he had friends I had lots of “friend in laws” to hang out with as well as my boyfriend on Saturday night.  We did become physically involved which was a mistake since he was secretly gay at the time and was fooling around with one of his gay friends who later (not much later actually) died of aids.

After we “broke up” he got married to another woman and then they got divorced and both came out as gay!  Later, I caught up with him working a temp job that I lost really fast (did he talk about me?) and he was living with a man twice his age.  What a waste of two years of my life.

Which brings up the question:  am I a generational ti or did this man do this to me as revenge? There also was another man I went out with that seemed unusually hostile to me when I ran into him years after the breakup.

Millicent Black is unusually lucky to know who her real stalker is.  This man, who underwent extensive military training on how to survive (and inflict?) torture turned her whole town and even her family against her  My family fell, too.

She has had terrible physical torture as well and has had surgeries.  She knew this man since childhood but was never close until they went out together.  My “boyfriend” was Jewish and just one year younger so I thought I could trust him.

Pineconeutopia #11 on Covert Warfare is very educational on how someone might get gangstalked.  Ti Ramola D. has Millicent’s history on her Web site as well.

It all was Planned

Last week, on Pineconeutopia, Karen Stewart, ex-NSA, revealed that Lockheed/Martin, the weapons contractor has human stalking services in 47 states!  I have had very few friends in my life, but, two of them had FATHERS who spent their careers at Lockheed, I know another man who worked there a little bit, and his wife spent her career at RAYTHEON!!!  Everyone I know, or have known has already been cleared by these satanic beasts.

I was also perped and called a “lifer” by a perp at a restaurant while I was trying to enjoy a quiet meal.  It was totally orchestrated, so much, that I even suspect the person who took me knew it was going off.  It was very weird.  The skit seemed planned.  Then, the man who took me to eat told me I had to “come to terms with my “mental illness” and other insults.  No doubt he is being paid to be a handler/babysitter by the perp establishment.  I dared to go shopping once without him and got hell from the neighbors for days.  You know the “retribution” they give you for doing ANYTHING THEY TELL YOU NOT TO DO.

Now, I am not even allowed to wear ANY purple.  It seems they own colors as well.  They act like they own God.  I wore 2 purple fingernails and it seemed Hell broke loose.

Interesting V2k’s these past few months:

“Don’t expose us” after I commented on another ti’s video

“You will think Obama’s administration is paradise” on Inauguration Day in January with the threat life will be Hell under Trump.  Is it sour grapes by liberal perps or real?

“You are not allowed to play your Mp3 outside with earphones”  I have just bought a new Mp3 player because the old one’s microphone was bad and the headphone jack was broken.  I wanted to sit outside and not have to listen to their crap, and that requires earphones jammed into my ears and volume turned up.

“Those are your prison clothes”  Every time I go and get something to wear.

30 years of my life lost to this.  Now I have a sadistic landlady, crime on my block, a false accusation hanging over my head, etc…All of a sudden my looks are completely gone and even look horrible with makeup.  I went out for someone’s birthday and was ashamed of how I looked.

Life in perp prison w/o possibility of parole.  No accusations, no trial, no conviction…NOTHING.  Still, no one outside of the ti community cares.

Just When I thought it could not Get Worse

Some men just installed a cell phone receiver on a pole in front of my apartment.  I guess I will be getting physical torture or electronic beatings all the time now.  At the very least, cancer.  The perp trash is tired of me and wants me to die.  God is nowhere, it seems, now.  The perping is way up since Trump took office when I thought it would go down.  I would like to install a cell tower in front of the fool ti who said we “must” vote for Trump!  False hope, again.  They said the same thing about Obama.  Crap.

Orange is the new Black

I just got done reading Orange is the New Black.  If you don’t know, it’s about a woman who is prosecuted on a minor drug charge and given a small sentence in a minimum security prison in Conneticut.  Piper Herman, the woman who wrote the book and did the time, had money so she was able to get a good lawyer and get a good deal from the government.  She was out in 13 months.

One thing I noticed though, was, even incarcerated, Piper had a better life than I did, and, when she went home (after the halfway house) she was totally free. to live her life perp free and to have friends, relatives and her husband and her own business.

But I want to talk about how her life was even better incarcerated.  Prison, even minimum security, must be miserable, but even an inmate has more rights than some ti’s.  Some of us “carry our prison” on our backs.

First, the things she was deprived of:

  1. Clothes.  She had to wear khaki pants and shirts at all times.  No dressing up.  The only alterations were grey sweats, white long underwear and an ugly brown winter jacket.  She did get to wear makeup, however when she had the funds to get it at the commissary.  They had just forbidden the sale of nail polish then but some inmates found a way to get it.
  2. Living Space.  She had to share a tiny cubicle with another inmate in a room full of other cubicles and inmates.  There was no privacy.
  3. Freedom.  She did not leave the compound until she became the government’s witness against someone else right before her release.
  4. Respect.  The CO’s, or guards, disrespected inmates and they had to take it or they would be punished or put into solitary.
  5. Privacy.  The showers were communal.  Also, she was strip searched after every visit.
  6. Food.  She describes the food as sort of crappy and sparse, but inmates learned to cook things from the commissary in the microwave and create delicacies that were off the official menu.  She says she lost weight there.  She looks a little overweight now.

Here are the things Piper had in the slammer that I, as a ti, don’t.

  1. Friends.  She had lots of friends on the inside.  She only got harassed once during her stay there.  She always had someone to talk to and made close friends.  No one denigrated her for her race.  No one threatened to fight her.
  2. Visitors.  She had tons of visitors from the outside including her fiance.  They came whenever they could and also mailed her tons of books and gave her money.
  3. Some freedom.  She was allowed to be outside without supervision.  She went on walks on the track and spent work breaks outside without supervision or harassment.  There was wildlife there in the country setting.
  4. Work.  She had a a skilled job inside the compound even though it paid an abysmal 1 dollar an hour.  The minimum wage “inside” was only 14 CENTS an hour at the time.  In essence, days were shorter spent working, but it was slave labor.
  5. Books.  She read as much as she wanted in the slammer with her friends and family mailing her long letters and tons of books.  No perp threatened her if she read books or wrote letters or a journal.
  6. Peace of mind.  She did not get Voice to Skull destroying her every day with threats, insults, insinuations, etc…  She could live inside her head without a cruel “monitor” there.
  7. Exercise.  She walked the track 4 miles a day to avoid gaining weight on the starchy prison fare.  She was also part of a Yoga group.  Prisons also provide weights and basketball hoops, etc…for male inmates.
  8. Recreation.  Prisoners at her compound did a lot of needlework like crocheting and knitting.

Now let’s compare my life.  My life is not the same as all other ti’s.  Some ti’s get incessant physical torture so “beatings” are added to some ti’s lives as well.  Piper did not get beat by the CO’s when she was in there.  Here is my life in comparison:

  1. Clothes.  I don’t have to wear a uniform but the perps don’t let me wear certain colors and if I do wear them I get “punished” with extra harassment or even worse things.  I also get threatened for the color nail polish I wear.  I’m also not “allowed” to wear my hair in a ponytail, up, or even put back by a headband.  I have to wear it down everyday.  I think people in the prison were allowed to put their hair up.
  2. Living Space. I have an apartment, which used to be nicer until the Nightmares and the Mice.  I used to have my bed in the small bedroom until I started getting evil nightmares and started to sleep in the living room.  I used to have a loveseat to sit on which faced my now absent TV but when I got infested with Mice I got rid of it and don’t want any upholstered furniture now.  I have space in this apt but am lonely and have very poor furniture.  I sleep on an airbed since my landlady used to deal with people who had bedbugs and I was afraid.  Also, I expected to move anytime and did not want to schlep a mattress.  The perps discourage me from housekeeping and even threaten me.  I feel this is only a place to stay, not a home, so I don’t decorate it.  Plus I can get “punished” for what kind of decorations I put up.  The inmates decorated their cells and were required to keep them clean with very little cleaning supplies.
  3. Freedom.  I can leave my apt. but seldom do.  Usually, I need someone to drive me around since I am afraid of being jumped or having cops called on me for anything if I’m out alone.  I get harassed by my “neighbor” if I sit on the porch and get harassed if I sit out at night in summer in back.  The other neighbors will come out and start laughing at me, the neighbor behind me has spotlights trained on my door and the new neighbors across the alley have a motion detector light that goes on for anything and turns night into day.  The construction workers hoot and laugh or scream “Hey!!!” during work hours even if I just go to the window.  They are working a block away but still must harass me.  If I want any privacy outside, I’d have to go out very late and hope the neighbors are asleep and that there is no human wildlife in the alley to harass me.  My neighbor put a chink in his fence so the light shines on me even if I sit down, so I have to sit really low down or even lie down to avoid the light.
  4. Respect.  I, also, have to “take it” or be in trouble.  If I react, the perps either get great pleasure out of it or call the cops or go and snitch on me to someone who can hurt me.  I either get pity because I’m “mentally ill” which is sickening, or, get treated with hostility or mockery.
  5. Privacy.  I can take a shower by myself but am mocked and told what to do in the shower with V2k and my spying landlady.  I am never not watched and mindread even in remote areas.  I even hear the little shits when I’m on the toilet.  My landlady also runs overhead to see what underwear I have on.
  6. Food.  I don’t have to eat prison food, but, am judged for my weight and get V2k in stores threatening me not to buy things.  I find things missing or changed when I get “home”.  I overeat to try and comfort myself but end up feeling bloated and horrible.

Here are the other things that Piper had and I don’t.

  1. Friends.  None.  I have two people who talk to me but aren’t really friends because they don’t believe I’m a ti.  One of them is on again off again with me and the other has just fallen out with me and wants nothing to do with me.  My landlady pretended to be my “friend” for years to gain info on me to get me better.  My cat is sort of a friend when she’s awake.  At least she does not insult me or tell me I’m mentally ill.  When I was “inside” at the mental hospital, only about two patients talked to me.  The others harassed me so bad along with the head of the ward I ran off.
  2. Visitors.  Only the two above.  Only one of them spends any time here.  I feel no need to decorate.  I used to have Board Meetings for our apartments here and would clean for that, but that was it.  My sister came here ONCE to see me.
  3. Freedom outdoors.  Very little.  I used to take daily walks despite all the perping and skits but when the police started to harass me and I saw dead animals, I pretty much stopped.  When I saw my OLD LANDLORD at the park looking it over as if he owned it, that was the last time I walked there.  By that time, they had rigged the park for intensive V2k so the park was no longer a getaway to read, write, or relax.  I get watched/harassed by neighbors and passers by when I sit outside unless its very late and even then…
  4. I do no meaningful work.  I even had to leave a 2 hour a WEEK job due to increased harassment. I used to do the 2 hours there and volunteer there and take classes there as well.  I also volunteered once a week to cook dinner at the shelter where I stayed when I was homeless.  I lost that as well due to increased harassment and the cold attitude of my “boss” who would not stand up for me against them.
  5. Books.  I take a risk reading after having had a V2k threat about reading and how if I read library books I would be tossed outside in the snow and no one would care and I would die a slow death.  I hope V2k’ers get their just desserts.  I also made a stupid vow to only read Christian novels so that limits my reading the books I really want to read.  The perps first limited me to 50 pages a day, then tried to lower that, then the threat. My books would always become way overdue because of the threats and limits to reading.  If I do read, I take a risk.
  6. Peace of Mind.  Most days are spent in the throes of depression and anxiety and PTSD due to the constant gangstalking and V2k.  I am frequently suicidal but never try it since the perps really want me to do it to go to Hell.  Little things to get my mind off of it are merely time-passers, usually videos.  I have even been “forbidden” to listen to my favorite pastor.  I’ve also been forbidden to listen to Zeph Daniel, who is really the only Christian ti I trust.  I think Simon has taken all his videos down now.  My prayers are desecrated and God seems absent.  I wish I could go on painkillers for artificial peace of mind.
  7. Exercise.  None.  I don’t go on walks alone, don’t walk with others anymore and got “punished” for trying Yoga.  Since I have been driven around, I don’t even walk to the bus stop and back.  Occasionally I take public (perpic) transportation and do some walking but it’s rare.
  8. Recreation.  I used to crochet and cross stitch.  I also took classes in Ceramics and Flower Arranging.  I tried to pick up Crochet again but the perps limited my color choices and I brought home black yarn.  Then, I tried to crochet and got V2k and a verrrry interested cat.  I have not been to the amusement park or movie theater for years.  Before the perps clamped down I was making a very fancy painted gourd and was interested in making soap and candles.

As you can see, my life as a ti is much like the life of a prisoner.  I have some things Piper did not but lack more things she had, even in prison.  I hear that prison is getting tougher and tougher and that creature comforts are kept to a minimum and even basics must be bought.  Increasingly, prisoners are in Solitary, sometimes for their whole sentence.  They go crazy most of the time.

Piper Kerman’s life in prison was unpleasant but enriching in a way my life could never be, and, when she got out she was FREE and not in the prison without bars called gangstalking.  She is an advocate for prison reform now as well as her job.

Landlady acts like she owns me

I do not know if I mentioned that my “landlady” (read perp) constantly threatens and bullies me via V2k and she and her friend mock me all the time.  Just this morning, she tried to tell me what to put into my coffee, what to wear, what to listen to…all attached to the threat that I will be imprisoned at home without a chance to leave.  When she goes outside she smirks with all her might.  She never leaves the apartment complex except about 5 hours a week because she wants to mindread me all the time and order me around. She used to go places all the time.

Even on YouTube she tells me what I can watch.  She acts like she owns me and I’m just a big doll she can push around.  This apartment is hell.  She acts like I will be forced to live here the rest of my life.  I’d rather die.

The mindreading begins even before I get out of bed.  I think a thought and she starts stomping overhead.  Every time I think a thought she does not like, she bangs the wall or the floor.  On top of her blaming me for the fire, she tried to convince me via mind control I was abusing my cat.  I almost had a nervous breakdown.  Then, she leaves on that “vacation” and the fire happens….well, it was sure nice not having her around when she was on vacation.

This morning she terrorizing me whether I could have chocolate or regular milk in my coffee.  The other perps are now perping me with the color blue.  Blue clothes, blue stuff all over the ground, etc…My landlady only wears blue.  I think she was behind this forbidding to wear certain color stuff back in 2005.  That was 12 years ago and they are still doing it even though “they” promised they’d stop it in 2009.

She told me I could not drink coffee or tea while doing Bible study, and that I could not use praise and worship songs to sing to.  All with THE THREAT.

Ms. Landlady sure acts like a lion around me. She is totally OWNED by the hag 2 doors down. Landlady monster drew me in with fake friendliness to collect info on me for years.  I want to expose her name   A few months ago, she whispered to me where no one could hear that she wanted to “break” me like I was a rebellious SLAVE.  I want to shame her for what she really is.

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.


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.