Hi Anita,

Good timing, too. I was just about to write a bit about this whole post. I see how it can be hard to read at some points, but speaking, and languages were not a problem till recently.

Responding to your question Anita. I got my heart broken by a pornstar. I seen her prior to her career, and I can’t shake the feeling that it was something I did to cause this whole issue. All I did was look in her eyes, and she cried. I liked her, and still do. What else can I say. Everytime I see her in person though, she’s crying. The last time I saw her, I can understand why she cried. I was about to say something, and offer what aftercare that I could when I got called stupid. The comment was nothing major, but it was enough to disrupt me. I’d still like to see her, but that’s up to her. Always has been. I’d like to see her smile though.

Apart from that, the tech issues should handle themselves after a while; and this whole process seems to be making me younger. I just fit into a t-shirt I bought back in 1997. Before I grew to 400lbs, and developed this downe sydrome look to my one eye. That’s just a symptom of the concussion I suffered while on Ecstasy. The healing of a concussion takes about 13 years, and has an explosive anger component after the fact.

She, the pornstar, woke me up from a waking coma. So, I feel she deserves something nice. Who knows, maybe I’ll look better to her, the way she made herself look better to me.

I think I feel bad because my need to cheer up a sad girl, caused her to feel forgotten. I can’t let go of what isn’t mine. All I remember is her sadness, and I know it too. I hope she is happy knowing she can always come back. I can write the world away if she likes.

Damnnit, there it goes again. That was supposed to read, “where our eyes met, and we looked out the window.”

The other part was just after blue beetle,”near the second time our eyes met”. I really, and very quickly lose focus when I look at a screen these days.

What an odd thing to go through. I feel like I’ve been made to look at aversion for a long while. So long that even my speech comes out wrong at times. Like I’m looking down at a clear bag full of water, and a few droplets continously flow from my eyes. The aversion part comes from the way the droplets roll outward to the edges. I’ve been made to feel that’s all I’ll ever know, and the images I want are behind it. Now when I go outside the concepts flow from my mind to wherever they began. I know I have a hard time letting go, but I am a hard headed sort, so I look at this sort of thing like a break.

I started to think a bit differently after October 16th, but the reasons are hard to explain. Like I felt that was where I should be. I wasn’t. I was still going through a bit of recurring shock.

On July 2nd, I might have walked through a terror scare. As I passed through there, I felt like I was under a spotlight, and the police cruisers (4 of them) looked to me like they were getting ready to jump me. I used to have a spot that I liked watching the sunset in the evening, but this changed that. I gave a high five to a bear paw in the sky the evening before and realized that might’ve been a mistake. Cold, shivers, low energy, and probably low blood pressure. I couldn’t even go out on the 3rd.

On October 28th, I got hit with a second shock. This was where I felt the missed oppourtunity of the 16th, and it hit me with a psychic shock. I relived one of my earliest traumas, and felt the shift from now till then. There was however a second shift too . This one I didn’t anticipate. It became clear my troubles originated when I used to have an old windows xp computer. My dreams shifted one night, and one stood out. I won’t speak of it, because its clear it has roots in today’s politics, and its clear there would be more trouble than I need bother with. The 16th made clear that all the neighbors gossip so much that I sit in a toxic environment still dealing with the conversations I had all those years ago on windows live, and facebook. My neighbors now, were talking to me then through a system that pings when I am online. That facebook account I closed due to health reason, but in truth I didn’t like the person I was becoming.

Yesterday, I hit a third much more soft shock. Nothing too major. Just a chill, and cold hands. I was already on the mend when I spotted the back of her head, and wouldn’t you know it my heart soared. This time I know I can go my own way, and I seem to be considering ways to let her back in so I can be here long enough to consider my life when I’m 80.

Now to see if she still sees my words, I think I should mention the documentary of John Lennon I watched the other day. I was surprised to hear his sentences sounded like mine every now and then. That slight loss of focus, but still unified in meaning. It was beautiful to consider the similarities. I’m even considering staying in my toxic environment to enjoy putting my feet up with a woman in a place like home.

I was just thinking if things go well. I may try getting a degree in something in about five years.

Wow, talk about epic! I’m understanding the G7’s audio tech is using sexual torture, and history mixed with religion to terrorize me with the truth of religious extremism on a global scale. The worst part is that I’m becoming aware it is a gang that hates, and I know they used a masterkey to install the video component the first time I went through this*.

Both me, and the woman I’m infatuated with have been targetted before. (Nearly drowning, and nearly falling) That’s how far the G7’s audio tech has made it into a populace bracing for civil conflict. I feel I need to speak because, I went through what happened during the G8 first iteration tech, and nearly drowned.

I know my friend Mohammed Suleiman might have been murdered to push me into believeing in the moment my sleep was corroded enough to allow the suggestions in. And suddenly I am conflicted by an understanding of how far they get me to push for their twisted beliefs. I would rather go through WWIII than have her broken by my own endurance.

My anger* is that it only forces the technology toward one religion, that I have no issue with. It repeatedly points me to hate, and that whole seriousness. I’ve been connecting the dots slowly, but this latest one has highlighted a need, and requirement for change. The woman I believe I have fallen for has been willfully turned to aversion by an overbearing extremist attempting to place their religion over another’s without their knowing consent. I spotted the change from foreground character’s, to focus on background iconography that dulls my focus enough to force consumption while unaware, thereby allowing subtle changes during sleep.

I realize my facial muscles are twisted, and it’s been caused by an unreported concussion that has partially paralyzed a muscle next to my eye. So, even for her it would be tricky to see my anger. Let alone deal with the realization of what may be happening to her. I don’t want to see her broken, because of the invarible nature of the suggestions placed in her dreams.

We are two sides of a very unique coin, and I am crushed by the technology that has been developed through multiple generations. I’m a product of a nazi campaign, and I can see how far back it’s gone. Why does this kind of highly targetted electronic monitoring cause others near me to suffer IF, and I do mean if, there is truth in it.

Suddenly when I think of her, the simple concept of, two rights don’t make it wrong, make it me smile. And I know I let her in by letting love flow. Not even the knowledge of where the tech came from can help if I can’t trust the people controlling it.

I’m also aware the tech requires a steady visual component to work properly, and I’m being twisted into a weapon against what I care about.

I mean just how poorly the First Nations people of Canada have been treated in the last few years. From birth we feel out of place because two overbearing religions are fighting over control of the populace and using other religions to bend, or deny toward that singular religion.

I’m being twisted by denial of concept, so I’ll wait till it clears up first, and let the news write itself till it can claim it knew first. The 300 in Somalia were my friends, and I don’t know why I suddenly can’t speak of it.