Archive for December, 2009

Microfleece Cape; Avatar Braids; Puppet-Operator Conflict

December 30, 2009

Not much time today. The library is closing early because we’re still in the holidays. I’m just writing random small things for now.

I tried making my own coat. I hate synthetic microfleece. So it was the perfect material to use for making my own coat, if it’s going to become contaminated and I’ll have to get rid of it and it’s only experimental. I bought two yards of charcoal gray microfleece and wrapped it over my head like a hood and wore it like a cape. It sort of worked but the cape wasn’t closed enough and the wind kept blowing it open. I pinned it shut with a safety pin. It was a minimal labor coat – no sewing needed, just a big rectangular piece of fabric, no sleeves.

I didn’t wear it much – I wore it while walking from my car to the door of Wal-Mart, where I took it off and put it into my shopping cart. I felt embarrassed wearing it. It was basically like wrapping a blanket around myself and walking around outside. Then, I wore it into Barnes & Noble, and I actually wore it indoors. A little girl, maybe 8 or 9 years old, grinned at me, probably because I looked like I was coming from a Harry Potter costume party or something. It blew back in the wind when I walked and it was kind of like Professor Snape’s cloak. It looked dramatic and it was attention-getting. I felt self-conscious and I had to tell myself to relax, slow down, look people in the eye, and act like everything was normal. Yes, I felt like an idiot, but I sensed that this cape thing had potential, if I could improve the design.

A coat has to be practical – it has to actually give warmth. So when it’s blowing open in the wind, that’s a problem that has to be fixed. I needed some way to keep it shut, and I only pinned it at the neck with a single safety pin, after making a little bit of a hood to pull over my head. It either needs more pins in the right places, or a belt, or strings, or something. Also, you don’t want to walk around delicate, breakable objects, or lit candles or anything that’s on fire, if you have a long loose piece of fabric hanging and blowing around while you walk.

I’d like to have a group of friends walking around with me wearing our cloaks or capes or whatever they would be called, and they would be well designed and practical and durable, while also being dramatic and noticeable. If they’re designed well enough to be practical and functional, you don’t feel like as much of an idiot.

I saw Avatar. I arrived too late to see the 2D version so I went to the 3D version even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see the 3D version because I thought that it would be so disorienting and disturbing that I wouldn’t be able to pay attention to the movie. But after I got used to it, I was able to relax and it wasn’t so bad.

I was at the Premiere Theatre by the mall, and in that one, I get some kind of dizziness in my head which is very uncomfortable and numbing. It is radio or subsonics, or something, and whatever it is, it ruins my enjoyment of the movie and it nauseates me. So I avoid that theatre and I usually try to go to the one on North Atherton Street.

When I read about the 3D glasses, it said that they electronically interact with some kind of system in the theatre. That might explain why there is a radio field or something that disturbs me – it’s there to interact with the 3D glasses.

Of course I liked the very long braids on the aliens – I don’t even need to mention it. My braid is not quite that long. I also liked the idea of primitive people living in a forested area – I am always reading about primitive tribes and other cultures. I don’t have time to talk in any detail about the movie, but I have to mention one thing that was missing.

They didn’t get into the conflict between the puppets and their operators. If you have a real animal with a fully functioning brain, and this animal is alive, and you’re going to control it by going into its brain and seeing out through its eyes, it’s still something that’s alive all by itself. It shouldn’t just drop down and fall asleep and not be able to wake up. It has its own consciousness, its own feelings, desires, knowledge, thoughts, everything. It has its own soul.

The movie was about a conflict of humans trying to invade and steal the land from a bunch of people, but they didn’t even mention how it feels to have your brain invaded and somebody is stealing your body and controlling you from within and suppressing your own soul, taking away the hours of your life. You only got to see the conflict of the external world in that movie and they just didn’t even mention a single word about what the avatars might feel like or how they could be somehow fully functional but not have any consciousness of their own. Those questions weren’t answered, yet they seem very important to me.

I put up an advertisement asking for housecleaning help. I got attacked by voices afterwards and they told me that I was going to get stalkers. Still, whatever happens, I absolutely have to get help. I can’t do all these things by myself, and it starts with housecleaning and other small chores. So there is right now a piece of paper, out there in the real world, with an ad on it asking someone to help me (and get paid).

There has been a recent outbreak of ephedra contamination in my apartment and I knew it would be a couple weeks before I could patch it up. I have to put down some papers to walk on and things like that. I am sure: somebody walked up my steps without taking off their shoes. That is the only way ephedra could have gotten all over my clean papers on the floor.

Ephedra affects me so badly that I start doing unusual things like saying prayers, which I don’t usually do. Prayers are something that can happen naturally, even to an atheist, in a moment of terrible stress and fear. It is a ‘naturally occurring phenomenon,’ a type of meditation, a mind state – even for atheists. So I was lying there trying to sleep, unable to sleep, and saying prayers – I prayed for everyone who has fallen while I struggle to survive – everybody I couldn’t help, because I was too overwhelmed by my own problems.

I have phone calls that I never returned, people I let down, people who were ‘acquired’ during my ‘friend acquisition manias’ when I’m on drugs and ‘THEY’ make me believe that I can, and should, acquire lots and lots of new friends that I don’t actually have time for, in an unfocused way, so that they want to call me on the phone and want to spend time alone with me and they mistakenly believe that we’re going to have sex when that absolutely will never happen, or else female friends who aren’t trying to have sex but still they are asking me for my time and my mental energy, while I’m barely surviving. I can think of a long list of people who were ‘acquired’ because THEY switched me to a ‘yes man’ type of mania, where I have to say yes to everybody even if I don’t actually want to, and I’d rather be conservative and not waste time listening to dozens of other people’s problems when I can’t help them because I have no resources and I am, once again, barely surviving as it is. They portray me as a superhero who can help everybody and I am NOWHERE NEAR being anything like that (not even when I’m wearing my cape). So I was saying prayers for people who I let down or people whose problems happened while I was struggling to survive and I couldn’t help them. This was a drug-induced prayer session but it was still sincere.

Meanwhile, I have one particular person that I really would like to try to be friends with, and it’s going very slowly and I’m not writing about it here, but I wrote it in my paper notebook at home. So I am even more reluctant to be talking on the phone to people who I don’t want to talk to and helping people who I can’t afford to help while I myself am drowning, and I haven’t solidified a fragile friendship that could be lost at any second because I have no socially acceptable way to contact this person, yet.

The library is closing…

My life outside of work

December 22, 2009

Everyone just left the library. I thought it closes at 8:00 tonight? Oh, wait, I hear somebody moving around. It was creepy when everyone just walked out. There’s only one person left and it’s the librarian, and me.

I only have fifteen minutes, because I spent the first 45 minutes surfing. I could get on again and go another hour.

I had been thinking of writing a post about my life outside the workplace. What happens to me when I leave work? Do I disappear and cease to exist? I feel like most of my time is spent at work and not at home.

The drug contamination problem is the central problem of my outside-work life. It has changed everything I do and it is the reason for all of my strange behaviors. I can describe what it’s done.

I moved to my new apartment in Bellefonte. I didn’t unpack all my belongings. They are in storage. Why? Because most of them are contaminated with some amount of the drug residue. I have only a few belongings in my apartment, just a couple of basic things needed for survival.

There are some books, papers, and my calculator on the floor. I am having a problem with the calculator. I returned the first one, because the add button was sticking. Now, on my new one, the add button is doing the same thing again. Sometimes I hear voices at the exact moment when the add button sticks, so they could be making it happen, but other times, it happens without hearing voices. I don’t want to keep returning and re-buying calculators forever when it’s actually caused by an attacker instead of being a fault of the calculator. But I will buy a different brand this time when I return it, and see if it has the same problem. They used to make buttons stick on my Oxygen-8 keyboard when I was playing with Propellerheads Reason, and they would trigger the ‘rage’ emotion at the same moment that they did this, making me want to kill somebody to stop them from attacking me. They would also make the song I was writing play over and over and over in my head so I couldn’t think while trying to write music. So again, the calculator problem might be entirely an attack, or it might be a badly made calculator, and I don’t know yet.

But anyway, the calculator, books, and papers are my most visible, obvious possessions, and they are sitting on the floor, not on a table.

I also sleep in a sleeping bag, and not in the bedroom, but in the living room, on the floor. The bedroom is more noisy because it’s next to the road, and also, it has a tiny bit of moldy air coming out of an access panel in the closet (don’t worry, the mold level is very, very low, and I keep that door closed, so it doesn’t get into the rest of the house). I don’t have a pillow, because I have thrown so many pillows in the garbage, just like I have to throw blankets and clothing in the garbage when it gets contaminated and won’t wash out.

I was trying to explain to someone recently that my life is really strange and it would be hard for me to live with a roommate even though I would love to save $200 a month on my rent by sharing it with someone. I would have to explain all the rules of contamination prevention, and trust my roommate to follow the rules. My car is still contaminated, so my shoes get contaminated, so shoes have to be taken off and left at the bottom of the stairs, for instance.

I have paper covering large areas of the floor. There have been a few tracking incidents where contaminated footprints have gotten on my carpet. I also have lots of garbage bags sitting in the kitchen, because I can’t bear to take out the trash when it’s this cold outside and I don’t have a coat. Why don’t I have a coat? Because they’re expensive and I keep throwing them in the garbage. They’re expensive even from Goodwill. They inevitably get contaminated in my car or when I handle other contaminated belongings.

There is another weird behavior which I could laugh about, because it would seem like a benefit, a good thing instead of a bad thing, about living with me. But it isn’t done intentionally to be – I am going to have to wait until I log in again, I have only a minute left here.

Anyway, there is this thing I have tended to do for several years now, for various reasons, and it’s not meant to be entertaining or seductive, but other people would think that it was. I usually go around naked all of the time. I am a nudist and I believe that nudity should be no big deal and it shouldn’t be seen as explicitly sexual, but people are brainwashed to believe that nakedness is always sexual and this is a BIG DEAL and it’s something to get freaked out about.

When I lived at the other apartment, there was a peeping tom who started sending me emails with pictures of naked women in exactly the same position I was in, doing exactly the same thing I had been doing. There were woods behind the house and this person was up in the woods looking in my window. This was someone who thought that naked women were a ‘big deal’ instead of something normal to take for granted. I hate that attitude. I hated the person who was doing that, and no, they were never arrested, and instead, I got sent to a mental hospital because of that person. This person was freaking out merely because I was naked.

Everybody should be ‘allowed,’ quote unquote (I don’t use the word ‘allowed’ – it implies that there is some authority figure giving permission, and it implies that their authority is legitimate authority that I respect, instead of a NOT-legitimate authority that I DO NOT respect or accept. The so-called authorities who ‘allow’ or ‘forbid’ people to do things are actually murderers, and I do not accept their authority, their use of force, their electronic mind control and other tactics, and yes, it isn’t only ‘government’ doing it, it is also individual murderers, and groups of murderers, and ‘official’ government murderers – it’s not the same people all the time, but a variety of people.) to walk around naked whenever and wherever they want to, outdoors or indoors, in public or in private. It shouldn’t be illegal. It shouldn’t be shocking, or exciting, or arousing, because people would take it for granted that everybody was naked and it didn’t mean anything.

So anyway, I now have more reasons to walk around my apartment naked. When you have to throw clothes in the garbage after they get contaminated, that’s even more of an incentive not to wear clothes. I wear them when I leave the house. Contaminated clothes would make me have drug effects all day long, which I don’t want to have happening. Also, clothes from Goodwill – and I love Goodwill – but, when you first buy them, they have cooties. Cooties, mange, scabies, the same thing. Itch mites, microscopic, too small to see. They burrow into the skin and cause scratch marks and dots on the skin. The clothes have to be washed before you can wear them. It’s not lice. Lice are ‘macroscopic.’ You can see them. These mites are too small to see. They are also on toilet seats, and all public seats that other people are sitting on, and they are on coats and jackets shared by people at work. (This was funny, I agreed with Britney at Weis when somebody told her she should just use one of the Weis coats when she was taking out the trash with us, and she said, ‘Ew!’ ‘Ew’ is because the coats are all dirty, they’re used by everybody, and they DO have cooties. I get itch mites on me every time I wear the coats, because everybody shares them.) On public toilets, I either use the toilet seat covers, or I put toilet paper down, or I just crouch above the seat without touching it. The mites get all over the back of your legs and your butt, and then you have to scratch yourself, which is awkward and embarrassing. I am so allergic to them that I will get big red scratches and scars all over the back of my thighs. It’s gross and I would not want people seeing all the scratches all over my skin.

Everybody has mange, but only some people are extremely allergic to it. I am one of the people who reacts very badly to mange, and my cuts don’t heal, and they get red and infected and turn into scars. So people wouldn’t ‘catch’ mange by touching me, because everyone already has it and it’s everywhere. I’m not the only person who has it. But I’m one of the people who breaks out into horrible bleeding cuts and scratches all over my skin because of the allergy and being unable to heal properly.

So this is another reason why I avoid wearing clothes at home. It means I would have to wash all of my Goodwill clothes, and doing laundry is one of the small household chores that I can’t bring myself to do when it’s ice cold outside, and I don’t have a coat, and I’m working five days a week during my temporary-Wednesdays month, December, right now, to prepare for the time off I’m taking in January.

Some of the unconventional or gross behaviors are things that I am doing consciously and deliberately, on purpose. I don’t wash or brush my hair anymore, and that’s done intentionally. I haven’t talked about the experiment that I’m doing with my teeth, because I’m kind of embarrassed about it, but I am doing a grooming experiment that involves teeth. This is based on the assumption: Plaque DOES NOT cause cavities. I am assuming, or testing, the belief that cavities are caused by odontoporosis, the destruction of teeth from within, which is exactly like osteoporosis.

Osteoporosis is caused by synthetic vitamin D which is required by government to be added to all milk products. Synthetic vitamin D is extremely toxic and it should be illegal (if I weren’t a libertarian-anarchist and if I went around saying this or that should be illegal). But the government requires this toxic, poisonous substance to be added to our milk. It causes a wide range of health problems that resemble Vitamin D deficiency, when it is actually caused by TOO MUCH of the synthetic type of Vitamin D.

DO NOT EAT SYNTHETIC VITAMINS. ‘The Order,’ my religion, which doesn’t exist yet, and which is temporarily called The Order Retmeishka because it’s being described in my blog by that name, but that isn’t the permanent name – the Order forbids the use of all synthetic vitamins and minerals added to food or taken in pills. All synthetic vitamins and minerals are forbidden. Yes, the Order is a real religion, and it has only one member, and that is me, and I am not yet compliant with the dietary rules because I don’t have help with cooking for myself.

Another problem I’m seeing is iodine in salt. I have a reaction to touching the french fries at McDonald’s. It gives me ‘thyroid eyes.’ My eyes become puffy and swollen in a particular way which is typical for hypothyroid disorders. If you touch french fries a lot, they are covered in iodized salt, and the iodine goes through your skin and messes up your thyroid, causing symptoms resembling hypothyroid disorders. I only eat non-iodized salts like sea salt or kosher salt. People need to know if their local soil contains iodine or not, and if you live in an iodine-poor area, you need to know whether you should CHOOSE to look for foods that contain extra iodine, but iodine SHOULD NOT be UNIVERSALLY added to everybody’s salt everywhere, because too much iodine causes thyroid problems. When I work with the french fries for long periods of time at McDonald’s – and I’m NOT eating them, I’m only touching them and the equipment, so it’s going through my skin – I wake up the next morning with severely puffy eyes. It’s not just the salt, it’s the iodine also. Some might argue that the salt is going through my skin, and it’s only the salt. But I am exhausted and all I do is sleep, which indicates a thyroid problem, and the SHAPE of the puffy eyes resembles myxedema, a thyroid symptom. They get puffy up above the upper lid, and you can push down on the puffiness and leave dents in it which stay dented after you push them (yes, it’s disgusting). This thyroid problem is temporary and it only lasts a short time after I have been handling large amounts of salted french fries, like when I work at College Avenue and I am doing nothing but french fries all night long.

Peter’s wife has those myxedema thyroid eyes, and my eyes temporarily become shaped exactly like hers. Her thyroid problem is POSSIBLY caused by transdermal exposure to Peter’s thyroid drug, Synthroid, a synthetic thyroid hormone which probably causes symptoms of thyroid deficiency (it’s only my theory). His son also has the thyroid eyes. According to this theory, their thyroid problems would disappear if she moved to a temporary decontamination house, wearing all new clothing that had never contacted Synthroid, with no carpets and no furniture that had ever touched Synthroid, and if she stopped touching french fries, iodized salt, or anything else that goes through the skin and affects the thyroid. This is only my theory, and if I were able to convince people that this was plausible, it would be so easy to test. All you have to do is test it yourself, for free, and observe the results. Does the thyroid problem disappear when you move to a clean, uncontaminated location and wear all new clothing? Does the myxedema go away and the eyes become less swollen?

With me, it’s only the right eye. The left eye is less affected. This is because the right side of my face and the right side of my sinuses are affected by the bisphenol-A plastic dental fillings, which I am going to remove whenever I get some help preparing my own food, so I can eat a diet that won’t hurt my cavities. My right sinus became permanently swollen after I got the plastic dental fillings, and my right eye is also now permanently swollen a little bit. It’s the one that has the most noticeable myxedema when I get this problem. I also had something like a sty on that eyelid, but I don’t know what a sty is and I forgot to research it. It went away on its own. Anyway, whenever I breathe, there is swelling in the sinus that I can hear and feel, above the plastic-fillings teeth. The Order – and yes, it isn’t a joke, it’s a real religion – is designed to prevent people from ever needing to get dental fillings of any kind at all, and it’s designed to support you if you choose to remove your dental fillings or choose not to fill your existing cavities, but instead you choose to modify your diet so that you can tolerate the pain of the cavities and just leave them alone. It assumes that cavities are caused by breakdown from within, which is caused by poisons and malnutrition, although I still wonder about this because certain foods make my cavities get worse temporarily – orange juice, for instance – and then they gradually get better if I stop drinking the orange juice.

I don’t know all there is to know about this yet, about how much is caused by destruction from outside versus destruction from inside. I am very, very grateful to Weston Price for observing that facial deformities and jaw deformities are caused by particular types of malnutrition and poisons. I want to prevent the jaw deformity in my children, if possible. It might work, and it might not, but I will try.

Well, that all came from talking about clothing, somehow. I have to read back and see where I got angry and started ranting, because I forget what I was talking about. Oh – I was talking about how strange it is to be my roommate, when you see my unconventional grooming, and how I am not brushing my teeth right now, and seeing what happens to them.

They wanted me to mention something that a co-worker at McDonald’s was talking about, but I don’t really think I should. It had to do with somebody not taking showers, and it wasn’t about me, but someone else. Every time she talks about this, I am thinking to myself how horrified she would be if she knew about my grooming experiments and all the subjects that ‘they,’ the voices, had been interviewing me about in the past couple years having to do with grooming. Yes, I take showers, but that is because I get covered in transdermal drugs that make me sick or exhausted or affect my moods in various ways.

I am so used to living by a strange set of rules that it would be very hard to explicitly remember what all the rules are. You can’t touch contaminated objects and then touch other objects, or the contamination will spread. That’s something that I’m so used to by now that I am not even really aware of doing it. I just know that I can’t touch my shoes to the carpet in the car, and then go walking around on the carpet in my house, because it will spread the drugs from place to place. That’s only one example.

Anyway… My life outside work is very strange, very difficult, and very sad. It’s not much fun. I don’t watch television, either, and I don’t do lots of fun things. I mostly work and save money and then I go read things and write on the internet. Sometimes I drive my car long distances because I love looking at the scenery and exploring places. Trying to explain how depressing and sad my life is, explain it to somebody who would be my roommate, is something that I haven’t felt ready to do yet.

‘I don’t care.’ Tommy Lee Jones said ‘I don’t care’ to Harrison Ford just before HF jumped off the dam and fell to the river below, in The Fugitive, when Harrison Ford said ‘I didn’t kill my wife.’ ‘I don’t care!’ he says, and it turns out that he actually does care, and he ends up helping HF find the real killer in the end. (I can’t remember the characters’ names – it’s been a while since I saw that movie.) I loved that ‘I don’t care,’ because it sounds like the exact opposite of what it says.

I am still badly blocked about expressing my feelings.

drug outbreak; bad day

December 17, 2009

It’s 4:10 PM and I am supposed to be asleep. I am not asleep, because there has been an outbreak of ephedra, the worst of all the drugs, at my apartment. I am still trying to understand how it got there. I have two theories: 1. I had some grocery bags sitting on the passenger seat of my car, and I brought them in and set them on some brown paper that I have covering the floor. The passenger seat has some drugs on it, but it didn’t usually seem like ephedra – it usually seemed more like St. John’s Wort. So this is strange. 2. The handyman came in my house after all, even though I told him I hadn’t seen any bugs. He had been walking around ringing doorbells asking to come in and spray for bugs. I had noticed a couple of harmless, benign bugs, and didn’t even care, and forgot that I had seen them, so when he asked if I had seen any, I said no, meaning I haven’t seen any to speak of, or any worth worrying about. So he didn’t come in. But he might have come in later when I was out, and sprayed for bugs. That would mean he walked up the stairs without taking off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs. The bottom of the stairs is contaminated, and you absolutely have to leave your shoes off down there or you will track drugs up the stairs. So that could have happened.

So there is ephedra on the paper that I walk on, in several places, and it is making it impossible for me to sleep. I drove to town to go to Wal-Mart and get some more brown paper because I’m out of it, and I need a few other things to deal with the contamination. But ‘they’ wanted me to blog about it, and ‘they’ wanted to demonstrate that ‘self-preservation is the weakest of her instincts,’ since I would rather blog about something than go get the paper and supplies I need at the store.

The outbreak began yesterday, and it turned up the volume all the way on my feelings and emotions. So instead of having a mild or neutral response, I had an ‘extremely intolerable, excruciating agony’ response to a particular thing that was bothering me, and it made me want to cry, so I spent a few minutes trying not to cry while this particular thing was going on. Normally I would not be so intense, but I had already been hit with the drugs yesterday.

I hate ‘them’ for being so stupid and unrealistic. I have always been able to see things realistically, but ‘they’ want to force people to do things against their will, and ‘they’ are not able to let go of people, and they’ve been telling me ‘you have to include him in your plans’ and other stupid things like that. Yeah, that is what ‘they’ would do – force people to do things that they don’t want to do, and write them into your plans whether they want to be in your plans or not. I have always planned things that I actually have control over, which means I DON’T ‘include people in my plans’ when those people do not consent to be in my plans. Instead I plan things that I control directly, such as my money, and my jobs, and my projects, and the things that I’m learning and studying, and other things that I have direct control over.

This ‘problem’ began immediately when Martin left. It was like he went out through a revolving door, put on a new mask, and walked right back in the door. For a very long time, I ignored people, I did not look at them, I did not bond with them, and I stayed detached and separated from people, and I ESPECIALLY did not try to start relationships with attractive young guys. But ‘they’ started doing something new when I met Martin, and they decided to try forcing me to start going after young guys who I would have normally ignored or been neutral about or closed off and protected against. I think most people would interpret this as me deciding it myself, but no, it was definitely something I was protected against – I had protective beliefs, I had rules that I followed, I had a certain attitude and a way of looking at things, I had assumptions – and ‘they’ really did attack and destroy all of those things that I was using to protect myself. They decided that it was ‘possible’ and ‘desirable’ and all that, to go after younger guys like Martin, and they forced me to do and say a lot of things I would not have done otherwise, especially since I was always having drug reactions.

So, as soon as he left, I should have gone back to my earlier assumptions and beliefs and ways of looking at things. However, there is a problem with my job. The job that I do is boring and lonely and I am by myself most of the time there (at the grocery store, not at McD’s. McD’s is sociable and I am usually with several different people most of the time). So I USED to spend the time planning about THINGS I HAD CONTROL OVER. But ‘they’ forced me, instead, to obsess about guys, something I DO NOT have control over. Why obsess about something that you can’t do anything about? I have to think about something through the hours when it’s boring and lonely and there’s nothing to do except think. I used to think about my money, about where I would live, where I was going to move to, how I would build my shield, how much money I would need to save in order to do this or that, how I was going to solve some particular problem. But that’s too PRODUCTIVE for THEM. They instead force me to worry about things that are harmful, self-destructive diversions that I can’t do anything about. Any other targeted individual would agree with me that they force you to obsess about things that you have no control over, instead of thinking and planning productively to prepare for action on things you DO have control over.

I should be sleeping right now, but the ephedra on the floor (it’s actually on some brown paper I put down) has made me too uncomfortable and it causes the worst insomnia that you will ever experience. ‘YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED,’ one of the voices said to me yesterday, and I don’t know what they were referring to. I think they were trying to take credit for the ephedra outbreak, claiming that they put it there, or something.

There are also, as always, several different personas competing to control me. Some of them are doing the stupid, idiotic ‘Cling to him and include him in your plans’ belief system, which is NOT ME and that is NOT how I behave, that is NOT how I treat people. Another persona, who seems to be more realistic, is encouraging me to have the ‘grief response,’ (‘We’re getting a grief response,’ they said, when they were pointing out to me that he has a girlfriend and there’s nothing wrong with her) which I how I myself think I should be responding – grief is something I should do quickly and efficiently and realistically – and in the REAL WORLD, I would – but the other personas, the stupid and unrealistic ones, zap me whenever I try to process grief and be realistic. They actually zap me no matter what feelings and emotions I’m trying to process.

I am not looking forward to how I will feel when I go to work after writing another blog like this. I had this blog anonymous for a reason, but they wanted me to connect it to my non-anonymous blogs so that everybody could find it, and I would have to go to work the next day wondering, ‘Do these people have nothing better to do than read my blog? Or, are they puppets being forced to say something?’ I can’t tell when people are puppets and when they’re actually reading. I assume there are a lot of people being forced to say particular things and they can’t help saying those things. As soon as I learned about the puppet phenomenon I was able to argue against the ‘Truman Show Theory,’ which believes ‘everybody’s in on it.’ I out-argued that theory years and years ago and I say instead that people are forced to say and do things without understanding why, and hardly anybody at all is actually ‘in on it.’ (*note, by the way, reading the blog doesn’t mean someone’s ‘in on it.’ It sounded that way, but that’s not what I mean.*)

The competing personas giving me false beliefs all the time – they responded with a bunch of crap after yesterday’s ‘trying not to cry’ incident. The stuff that ‘they’ said to me about the incident was stupider and more ridiculous than anything I myself would have ever believed. For instance, he was ‘just testing me to find out how I feel’ and other idiotic ideas like that, which I myself KNOW are NOT TRUE because I am REALISTIC. Do you know how much I HATE having these stupid people putting stupid ideas in my head that would have never even occurred to me? I don’t go around having paranoid beliefs about how somebody is just testing me to find out how I feel. I assume people are just doing whatever they want to do, and the world DOES NOT revolve around me with everybody ‘testing me to find out how I feel.’

The other phrase they started using was ‘approval junkie.’ This is a new phrase that they have never said to me before, and they started saying it when they woke me up this morning. They started calling him an ‘approval junkie.’ I would not have used that phrase myself. I actually understand why he does what he does, because I do it myself: you try to give everybody what they want, all of the time, especially people who seem like undervalued, under-appreciated outcasts who need to be loved and accepted. I am a stray cat collector (when I used to live in the trailer, and stray cats were around) and there is always an infinite supply of stray cats to collect. ‘Approval’ isn’t the right word, either, because when I do it, I am not trying to ‘win approval’ or anything resembling that. The ‘approval junkie’ bullcrap that they started saying to me this morning was an unrealistic, delusional belief system that I myself recognize as crap: they were telling me all this stuff like ‘he’s just testing you’ and they’re trying to convince me that actually, I’m the center of his universe and everything he’s doing revolves around me – which again, I DO NOT believe that, myself. I NEVER assume that I’m the center of the universe and what somebody’s doing is revolving around me.

So, waking up to a bunch of crap this morning, and trying to get back to sleep while getting hit with ephedra that got on my brown paper from an unknown location – I don’t understand how so much of it could have come from the passenger seat when it usually seemed more like SJW was there instead of ephedra. But it happened and now I have to deal with the contamination. I’m going to own a trailer and it won’t have carpets. Carpets are the root of all evil, with regard to contamination outbreaks. I only have eleven minutes left, so I should publish this and then go to Wal-Mart and get my supplies. Meanwhile, I also have to deal with this ‘other problem’ and all their bullcrap beliefs and assumptions about me being the center of the universe and all that garbage, so I have to fight against all those ideas and waste my mental efforts doing something I don’t even need to do.

I’m not giving this the title that they wanted me to give it

December 9, 2009

There’s a problem with the width of this box that I’m typing in. I’m trying to squeeze it down to the smallest possible size, because I’m in the Bellefonte Library in an exposed, open area where I feel as though I have ‘shoulder surfers’ standing behind me. And if I make the box too small, the words I’m typing don’t show up on the right side of the box.

I never knew about the Bellefonte Library because I mistakenly thought they only had a small library of genealogical data, but actually they have two libraries across the street from each other, and one of them is a regular library with books that have nothing to do with genealogy, and also computers to use for internet access. I learned about it by reading an article in a little free local newspaper called The Gazette.

That newspaper had an article a few weeks ago about dairy farmers and how the price of milk was too low. If I could mention a book by Garet Garrett (I can’t remember how many R’s and T’s are in his name – I have to look it up) called ‘Satan’s Bushel,’ it talks about people using the Chicago Mercantile Exchange – actually, that might not have existed in the book, but there was something very similar to it – using that to make prices really low by speculating. The same thing is going on today. Prices get distorted because people are able to borrow lots of money and use it for speculating and controlling the prices of things.

I haven’t had a chance to write about gold and silver recently – that’s usually on eagledove9 – but Barrick Gold has changed its policies and they’re now allowing the price of gold to go up, and the last time I looked at it, it was somewhere around $1200 a few days ago. And yes I’m still interested in gold and silver but haven’t written much lately.

I also didn’t write about how I recently finished my Schaum’s Outline of Bookkeeping and Accounting. I am now changing my own record keeping over to the official double-entry bookkeeping system, for my mundane expenses like food and gasoline and rent. I’m using it as though I am a business instead of just an individual person, and that’s how I’m practicing.

The cell phone hackers will have noticed that I stopped using my cell phone calculator to add up all my money, because a few days ago I just bought myself a printing calculator that I can type really fast on. It was very hard to thumb-type all those numbers into the cell phone. Even if my other calculators weren’t in a box in storage, they’re too small, too. And my computer calculator still isn’t as nice as the printing calculator, or adding machine, or whatever it’s called. I love it.

I love double-entry bookkeeping too. It’s making me very conscious of my money and it makes me feel like I would be able to run a business, any kind of business, if only I learned more about accounting. I think bookkeeping should be taught to young children as soon as possible, and it should be a universal thing, like “readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmetic,” or whatever. I think there should be some more apostrophes in there. Maybe not.

But bookkeeping, and money, is essential and universal. It’s everywhere. It’s not just some useless knowledge that you have to memorize and you’ll never use. As soon as you start using it, you feel more empowered and more in control of your life and less afraid of money. I read ‘Your Money or Your Life’ a few years ago and I wanted to do the things they were talking about, and I’m doing something very similar now. I like the phrase ‘no shame, no blame,’ because whenever you decide you’re spending too much money on something, and you decide what to do about it – well, I had problems in the beginning of the attacks, years ago, where ‘they’ were constantly attacking me because I spent a lot of money buying fast food and food from Sheetz – they used the ‘Shame And Blame’ technique instead of the ‘No Shame, No Blame’ technique. They’d still be doing that to me if I were buying food on my bank debit card, which the hackers can see. But I can’t, because my bank won’t let me buy point-of-sale purchases on my debit card anymore, because I overdrew it too many times. I have to withdraw cash instead. The most common thing that they used to do to me was give me nightmares about ‘shit’ if I ever purchased anything from ‘Sheetz.’ I’d be angry about that, but I’m not in the mood to get angry right now.

My hours have been temporarily reduced at Weis. This is just one of those ups and downs. They’ve hired new people and they have enough people to cover the evening shift, so I’m not needed as badly as I usually was before. Plus, football season is over, and we have less business.

This is exactly the reason why I have a second job. I will be working a few more hours at McDonald’s – in fact, I already told them that I will temporarily be available on Wednesdays. I’m going to call them tonight and offer to come in. Their response will be something like, ‘YES, PLEASE, YES, OH GOD YES,’ because they never have enough help on Wednesdays, since a lot of people aren’t available on that day. So I will go to work tonight.

Another reason why I’m temporarily available on Wednesdays is because I requested a four-day unpaid vacation in January from both jobs, and I think I would like to make up that lost revenue ahead of time by working extra hours. I’d like to do it again, too, in a couple months – I could do another four-day unpaid vacation in March.

When you’re just moving out on your own, or when you’re still young, or when you’re still in ‘rumspringa,’ that’s a time when you still want to buy stuff. You want to spend money on things your family never had, fun things. I was looking at a catalog that I got in the mail – I got some catalogs from Fingerhut (Finger Hat, or thimble, in German) and Bed, Bath and Beyond, and I was wondering, who would ever need these things, who would ever want to buy these things, and why? But people do buy them, people who’ve never had them before, people who are moving into their own homes or apartments and they’ve never seen bedsheets like this at Wal-Mart, these sheets and blankets with dragons all over them, and they decide they want to buy the whole dragon bedspread set and make their whole room into a dragon theme (yes, that was the only thing I really liked in the catalog and thought that I might have wanted to buy sometime, except I don’t have a bed right now, but that’s a long story). I forget which catalog it was – I’m assuming Bed, Bath and Beyond, but I’m not sure.

But anyway, now that I’m in my thirties, I discovered that ‘Time Off’ is all that I ever really wanted, and it’s all that I care about. When you’ve been working at pointless, going-nowhere jobs for years and years, and you don’t want to do that for the rest of your life, you start to feel that you want to save your money so that you can take time off and still pay your rent. (Also, another reason why I don’t want to buy stuff is because I contaminated all my belongings and have had to throw so much away. But ‘time off’ is the other main reason why I don’t want to spend money on stuff.)

So I’m excited about my unpaid vacation in January. It will be ten days: from my Monday off until the Thursday of the next week. Maybe that’s eleven days. Oh well. It’s a lot of days. No, ten. Thursday I would go to work. Anyway, that’s confusing, but it’s because I usually have off Mon-Wed, and I only go in from Thurs-Sun, which I’ve talked about before.

I did actually reduce my exposure to the drug residues recently, and it made me a little bit less cheerful and friendly, and somewhat more formal and cold, but not too badly. I have stronger inhibitions now. ‘Low inhibitions’ is one of the things the drugs do to me. I’m talking kind of indirectly about this, but let’s say that there’s something I always want to do, but I stop myself from doing it. It would be something that I always want to do, very frequently, but I don’t do it. If I am on the drugs I get enough courage or have low inhibitions, and I do this thing more often than usual. It’s something that takes courage and it causes a lot of anxiety. So I have stopped doing that particular thing, or have done it a lot less often, but it is still something I wish I could do. I don’t want to cause problems by writing a blog about this, because it’s very easy to google my name and find all the blogs that I write, in a few seconds, and I never really know who’s reading my blog. But anyway, that’s why I have more inhibitions lately – it’s drug-related and I was able to get rid of some of the residue contamination on my car seat and my clothing (I have a vinyl cover on my car seat now).

They just now reminded me of an incident which was relevant and I can mention it. A few months ago at McDonald’s, I think on a Sunday morning, when I was getting ready to leave and the morning people were coming in to start breakfast, there was a very young girl who I had never seen before. It turns out that she is seventeen, if I recall. I was doing things around the kitchen, putting some stuff into the cooler, and getting ready to leave. She said, ‘Are you here to help me?’

I am NOT making fun of her, but, her tone of voice was trusting, almost awed, and when I thought about it later on, it was like she said, ‘Are you my guardian angel?’ or ‘Are you my fairy godmother?’ I know it sounds funny, but I am not making fun of her. I thought about what it would be like to be young and trusting – I was always very, very socially restrained, inhibited, shy, afraid of people, and I was never very friendly or trusting even when I was young – I had only a couple of friends and I avoided almost everyone else.

So I helped her a little bit before I went home. The next week, when she saw me, she reached out her arm as I approached, and she gave me a hug. How do you hug a complete stranger after only meeting them one time? How did she know that I liked her, and she liked me, after only spending a few minutes together? I’ve never been able to touch people, not men, not women, in a friendly way.

I talked to her a couple days ago. She told me that she was having insomnia and it had only started a couple months ago. She said she was waking up after sleeping only an hour or so, and then, she would be awake for a few hours, and she would want to go get on the computer, before going to take another nap. Her sleep is now disturbed and it only began recently. It’s not really insomnia, but just interrupted sleep and irregular sleep at the wrong times. She used to sleep just fine, up until just recently.

Why?

I don’t have much time left on this login – only four minutes – I’ll save a draft and start over, because I can log in again for another hour.

Okay, good – my saved draft survived the logout and login. I’m back for another hour. I’m afraid I’ll lose something, so I even took precautions and emailed it to myself, too, in addition to saving it in a draft.

Here’s another thing that I didn’t mention that happened recently. I had just left work at Weis and was going over to McDonald’s, but I had a little bit of time in between to sit down, get off my feet, eat something, and listen to the radio in the car. There was something playing on public radio, something orchestral, music without words.

This was probably November 15th, because I looked it up on the internet, where they have playlists written down for what was on the radio at a particular time, and I found a playlist that mentioned it for that day. I think that was the date. It doesn’t matter. So I heard this orchestra playing, and it did something strange. Maybe it was just the mood I was in. Sometimes I am able to cry, and other times, my feelings are not very responsive to music. But this song did something strange with its chords and its intervals. It was not like the music I hear all the time, doing the same predictable chord progressions and the same predictable intervals between the notes. It didn’t do it just once, it did it again and again and again. I started crying. Not only that, but it was violins and cellos, and I love those. The cello that resonates in my chest and in my throat. I would sing with it, but it’s too low, and I have to sing an octave higher. It was like the music I’d be writing, if I were free, and if I had free time, and if my brain didn’t get interrupted when I write music, and if I weren’t getting zapped, and if I didn’t have a million other things to do.

I waited for the name. It was ‘Alan Hovanis.’ I didn’t know how to spell it. I found out it’s ‘Hovhaness.’ The song was ‘Concerto for harp and string orchestra.’ But I wasn’t sure I found the right thing, because it turns out that this guy wrote millions of songs, and it could be ‘Opus 3,478,298’ or it could be ‘Opus 1,289,996,’ or something. But I bought the CD and it was the right one.

I don’t cry every time I hear it. I only cried that first time. But it’s my favorite song on the CD and I listen to it again and again. There are non-European influences in his music. I forget which country – it might have been India or Arabia. A lot of his music sounds like it came from there. I have been interested in the less familiar chords and scales from other countries, and I always wanted to learn them and use them in my music so that it won’t sound like the same old stuff we hear every day.

I have to mention William Russo and Jeffrey Ainis’s book, ‘Composing Music: A New Approach,’ which gives you music composition exercises to do. I was going through that book doing the exercises on Propellerheads’ Reason program, but I haven’t had time lately to do that. That book talks about scales and intervals and chord progressions.

Anyway, I don’t necessarily LIKE the extremely unfamiliar, foreign-sounding scales. They don’t make me cry or move my emotions as intensely as the chord progressions that are more familiar. It has to be mostly familiar, with just a little bit of strangeness and unexpectedness. If it’s totally unfamiliar, I don’t know how to respond to it. I don’t know whether my response to music is ‘objective’ or whether it’s ‘cultural.’ If I’d grown up hearing nothing but Arabian scales, would I recognize them enough to cry when I hear a song written in Arabian scales? Musical scales and emotions are connected because whenever we talk, whenever we are speaking a sentence, our voices go up and down in pitch and rhythm. Every sentence is a line of music. This is why our brain is able to understand music even if it doesn’t have any words in it. We read people’s feelings in their tone of voice. We understand feelings of safety, or feelings of danger and emergency, if someone is talking in a calm voice, or a panicky voice. We recognize happiness and excitement, or sadness and despair.

I have about fifteen minutes left. There’s a whole subject that I want to write about. I won’t be writing about it today. It’s better to DO things than it is to write about them.