Archive for April, 2014

suffering through the leftovers

April 30, 2014

Apparently, this blog is officially about food now.

I am not sure how big those pictures are going to be. I took them with my normal camera, the broken one that sucks and doesn’t work unless I put it on the ‘macro’ setting, otherwise it has no focus. And I had to reset it to ‘macro’ for every single picture, every time, because it wouldn’t stay set.

I struggled to take a not-horrible photo of myself without a flash, and I chose the one where you can see my face because pictures with faces are more interesting than pictures without faces, even though the purpose was to show the long combed out lock (which I braided to keep it from retangling). You can see how short all the other locks are. The slightly shorter piece, which is hanging down next to the very long braided one that I am pulling with my hand, is another monster lock that is partly combed out and has the loose ends braided.

The food is leftover everything. It’s a mixture of chicken, ground beef (grass fed), chicken broth, ghee, millet, hot pepper seeds, an egg, broccoli, a small amount of mustard, a small amount of himalayan pink salt, and slices of ginger root. Was it edible? Yes, I did not drop dead instantly after eating it. Was it enjoyable? I’ve tasted things in my life that were less enjoyable than this, but on a grand scale, no, I did not really like this. It was bland, and the chicken was tough.

I’m just trying to get rid of the leftovers before they spoil, because right now I can’t afford to go shopping and buy stuff and screw it up and then throw away all my leftovers even if they didn’t turn out very well. I need to find an explanation for why I disliked this or that. Somehow, I just didn’t like it, but don’t have a detailed explanation for why I didn’t like it (and I think this might be socionic -Si – I’m sloppy and willing to just try again to see how something tasted, rather than being aware of all the subtle nuances of the tastes and the exact details of what I liked and disliked about this food, which would be +Si).

Someday, I swear this blog will be about some topic other than cooking and hair combing. Right now, I am just waiting for time to pass until I can reawaken, get things done, go back to work at McD.

I did get one ‘errand’ done today – I bought my renters insurance, which I am required to have while I live here – it’s liability insurance, which makes me wonder, why are they suing the person whose barbecue grill burned down the other building on Waupelani Drive? Didn’t those renters have mandatory liability insurance too?

My blog is coming up in google image searches for ‘buddhist style chicken,’ and it’s showing all these images of every random thing that I have on this page, such as pictures of me combing my hair, pictures of Nat Rothschild, and other random stuff.

not so bad today

April 30, 2014

12:59 PM 4/30/2014

I don’t know if it’s because the weather is changing, or because I haven’t poisoned myself with garlic yet this morning, or because I’ve been drinking one cup of instant coffee after another since early morning when I was forced awake. For whatever reason, I feel more cheerful today.

I took out the trash. For some reason, I’ve decided that taking out the trash is my duty as a roommate. Nobody else seems to do it. They seem to wait until it absolutely cannot wait any more. But I don’t mind taking it out every couple days, so I do it. Just going outside in the fresh air made me feel cheerful. It’s drizzling and the sky is white. I’d love to have fresh air inside the house, but I also want to be warm, so I don’t open the windows.

This morning I worked on combing the second monster lock that I’ve been doing for the past few days. I had gotten through the loopy ball at the end of the first monster lock on the right side, and then I had a slightly less horrible monster lock on the back of my head too. It was nowhere near as bad, but still difficult. The third thickest lock is somewhere in the range between ‘monster’ and ‘medium sized,’ and it will be less difficult than the one I’m on now.

I haven’t combed this second monster lock all the way out, but I have combed out so much of it that the loose hair hangs all the way to my waist, reminding me of how long my hair used to be. Dreadlocks cause hair to wind and loop and bend, which shortens the hair. It’s the same as if you had long hair but you just wadded it all up into a ball and made it seem shorter that way. It’s the same rationale for why afro textured hair always seems to be much shorter than it is – the afro coils shorten the length of the hair by at least half, I think (though I’d have to go look up the numbers again, because people on the internet have actually given an estimate of the percentage of shortening of afro hair).

I used olive oil today. I bought olive oil for eating, but I had been planning to try oil on my hair sometime anyway. I had been using conditioner, and it smells so foul, it stinks up the whole house. Conditioner is supposed to smell good, but when you are using tons and tons and tons and tons and tons of it for hours at a time without rinsing it off, it becomes an overwhelming, cloying perfume. I’m sure my roommates could smell it. I wish they would sell an unscented conditioner, but that will never happen. I’m only buying things from local stores at the moment. If I tried really hard, I might find an unscented conditioner online, but this project isn’t worth that much effort.

Oil does not work as well as conditioner. It worked, but it wasn’t as slippery. I want the hair to be very slippery so it doesn’t get damaged by the combing. I try to be as gentle as I can, and I try not to pull when the loops are stuck and won’t come out.

Now that I have such a long strand of hair in the back, I’m all excited and I want to keep working on it, but there is only so much hair combing that I can stand to do at one time. Some days I can do it for hours, but other days I can only do it for a little while. I haven’t really eaten yet. I do not have any sausage left, so I will have to eat some of the lower fat meats in my little fridge.

I haven’t even *begun* to try experimenting with seafood yet. I only know a couple of things. I’ve eaten these whole blue crabs that Weis would sometimes sell, and when I bought them, I got them one at a time, and they were already cooked. I didn’t have to cook them myself. I sometimes eat sushi, but there are no organ meats in sushi, just fillet. I’ve eaten plain old fish fillet many times in my life, but I don’t really enjoy it. I’ve eaten shrimp, and I’m allergic to it, but not deathly – I just get itchy hives on my cheeks and my neck. I’ve also eaten the shrimp with heads on at the Chinese restaurant. I’ve eaten scallops and don’t like them much, but don’t know what a whole scallop is like. I’ve eaten some clams and oysters. Overall, I’m not deathly allergic to anything so far. I’ve also had lobster, I just remembered.

I’m looking for the magic food combinations that will somehow make me feel healthy and energetic again. Some people on the internet claim that a ketogenic, low carb diet helps with some illnesses. If I could have a variety of meats and fats and seafood, I’d be able to do it.

I am not so depressed today, but that doesn’t mean I got anything useful accomplished either. I’m just doing some laundry.

very depressed, waiting for the rain to end, in denial about my lack of money; the foods that I’m eating; a description of some trivial electronic attacks going on

April 29, 2014

1:52 PM 4/29/2014

I am continuing to be depressed. I know what’s causing it, but can’t do anything about it. I’m hoping that as the weather continues to get warmer, it will improve. It’s caused by a combination of 1. a substance, and 2. a circumstance. The substance is a drug residue, and the circumstance is, mostly, the fact that Hills Plaza McD is being torn down and I can’t work there.

I’m sure a drug residue is very much involved in this depression, because when I bought fresh new clothes at the thrift store, I got better instantly overnight and suddenly was much more energetic and less depressed. There are two thrift stores, the Goodwill store, and a St. Paul something-or-other religious thrift store, St. Paul de Vincent or something like that, I forget. Or St. Vincent de Paul. Uh-oh, this is an inserted paragraph, and I just started going off on a tangent which was getting longer (because I just drank coffee), so I will put this tangent at the end after the other paragraphs.

I’ve been playing video games, which is usually a very bad sign – it means that I am so depressed and incapacitated that all I can do is fantasize for hours and hours about how wealthy and powerful I wish I could be. I don’t have lots of video games on this computer, just Roller Coaster Tycoon 2, and then the silly little games that came with Windows, which I have played on rare occasions.

Another things I’ve been doing while depressed is combing my hair. That would be fine, except now, I’m going to run out of money soon, and I will have to start taking action to do something about it, except I am still in denial and still postponing any action. I have all these safety nets reassuring me that nothing bad will really happen if I run out of money this month. But those safety nets are also making me lazy and passive.

This is the tangent. I was going to start complaining about the Goodwill store. Years ago, when the residue contamination first began, Goodwill basically saved my life. I went there and bought the cheapest junk clothing for 25 cents each. They had those junk clothes available all week long.

But Goodwill has changed. They raised the price of the junk clothes up to a ‘psychological pricing’ number of 29 cents, so that it’s just below 30 cents but your brain remembers it as twenty-something. I *HATE* psychological pricing, and if I ever run a business, it will be an official law in my corporation that our brand will never, ever use psychological pricing, ever, for any reason. Psychological pricing is using tricks to make customers think prices are lower than they are, or to confuse them so they can’t calculate the prices or understand the prices quickly and easily.

I am a genius who got a 5 on the AP Calculus test, at the end of high school, but I cannot do arithmetic in my head. My short-term memory erases all the numbers while I am trying to calculate them, and this is made much, much harder by the fact that I am also a mind control attack victim who is being zapped by microwaves every few seconds, so that whatever is going on in my brain is suddenly destroyed by a blast of meaningless noise (or, perhaps, ‘noise’ which is actually encoding a message that I can’t understand consciously).

So I absolutely cannot walk through a store and add up these messy numbers ending in 9, and I also cannot calculate the number that is 75% of 3.99, or anything like that.

Goodwill always did that, even years ago – they have tags that say this item is, I dunno, 30% off or something. I can do that by writing it on paper, but not in my head in the middle of a noisy store.

But they changed it so that the $0.29 specials now only exist on Sunday and Monday (or at least that’s how it was last time I was there). Then, they bought new racks and reorganized the entire store. It used to be organized by color, on individual circular racks, and I liked that a lot. But now, it is on long racks, no longer organized by color, but by size. I used to often purchase things that weren’t my size, clothes that were several sizes too big. I don’t necessarily ‘like’ wearing clothes that are too huge for me, but I have many reasons why I choose to do it – the item is extremely cheap and I like everything else about it except its size, or I’m layering clothes and I need a large shirt to put on over top of several other shirts, etc. So I am not happy that they are no longer organized by color, and instead the sizes are all kept separate from each other. It’s much harder for me to find anything in the color that I want, whereas in the past I could just go directly to the color on one particular rack.

To me, colors are more important than sizes, and if they wanted to, they could organize it by color first, then organize it by size within that color. I’m thinking of data sorting and filtering on the computer – you sort by first one thing, then by another thing, and get a different kind of result.

It would be even better if they mixed men’s and women’s clothing together. Their first sorting criterion was men’s/women’s. I will often choose men’s clothing because women’s clothing is absolute garbage, whereas men’s clothing is awesome (except for their boring lack of colors – but I am not seeking bright colors at this time while I am still decontaminating and cannot get attached to my clothing).

Anyway, I find it very unpleasant nowadays to go shopping at Goodwill. I can’t find what I want because the colors are randomly mixed together. (It used to make me happy to walk in there and see all the round racks with their same colors together on one rack – I’d head straight over to the ‘orange’ rack to see what they had.) I can’t find the $.29 deals because they are randomly mixed in with all the other clothing, and there seem to be very few of them, and they are only available on Sunday and Monday. And I hate the number 29 (when used in psychological pricing). Instead, all I can find are things like, a $4.99 item 30 percent off. So I have to do calculations in my head. And I can’t even find very many of those tags anymore, either – it’s always the tags for the least discount, and there are hardly any of the bigger discount tags to be found. The last couple times I needed clothing, I just went to Wal-Mart for the convenience, and didn’t feel like struggling to find anything at Goodwill. The price at Wal-Mart is not even that much higher than Goodwill anymore, since you can’t find any $.29 specials or 75% off specials (or whatever, I forget – it could have been 79% or 59.999% or something).

Meanwhile, a coworker at McD was talking to me about Goodwill a couple months ago, and she told me how much she LOVES the new organization method there, and how, in the past, she used to walk in there and be overwhelmed by all the round racks, but now, with the straight racks, it’s easy for her to just walk in there and find what she wants. The exact opposite of how I feel! I absolutely hate the new way, and she loves the new way and hated the old way! But she is style-conscious and would never, ever, ever buy any item of clothing that was three sizes too big for her and let her clothes hang off her body the way mine do. So to her, size is more important than anything else.

My frustration with Goodwill has been building up over the past few years, but fortunately, I don’t need it as desperately as I did a few years ago, when the contamination first began and when I was first discovering that contaminated clothing absolutely cannot be washed, so it has to be thrown in the garbage. Goodwill’s $.25 items saved me. I’d go and buy clothing that was intended to eventually become garbage, another reason why I didn’t care if it fit me or not. And since it was a nice, easy round number, I could just count the items and estimate how much I had to pay at the register – oh look, six items will be $1.50! That’s easy!

This last time, I went to the St. Somebody Thrift Store. It was very different from Goodwill. They did not have any super-cheap throwaway items for $.29. However, all their prices were in round numbers, with no calculations needed. If a rack said everything on it was $2, then everything on it was $2. You don’t have to look at the tags and figure out that this item is going to be 30% off from $7.99. You just look at the sign for everything that says they’re all $2. I liked that A LOT. This is VERY important to me as a customer. I absolutely hate the practice of psychological pricing, but millions of businesses are convinced that THEY WILL *DIE* INSTANTLY if they use round numbers instead of 99. They’ve seen charts that show that X% more customers will buy this item when it’s priced at 99 cents versus $1. And if we don’t have those X% more customers, our business will go bankrupt this very instant!

But how many more customers will you attract with a strict, absolute, brand-wide, reliable, trustworthy round-number pricing scheme, which customers can expect to see every time they walk into your store, no matter where the store is located – a brand-wide attribute? You know that when you walk into this store, no matter where in the country or where on the planet you are, the prices will always be brain-friendly and painless. You won’t experience tension and anxiety here. You will experience a smooth, convenient, comfortable shopping experience. The business owners underestimate the amount of pain and anxiety psychological pricing causes for their customers. It causes a very unpleasant shopping experience, which business owners should try to avoid giving to their customers. The convenience of the customer should be more important than anything else. They think that the customer’s stress and anxiety is trivial and unimportant. All that matters is tricking stupid people into buying more than they should. Nothing matters more than that.

But in my store, round numbers make it easy for people to calculate and keep track of their money. They know exactly how much they are buying and how much they can afford.

I had another problem, which actually I thought was a good thing. I got to the checkout counter and suddenly noticed that St. Whoever didn’t accept credit or debit cards. Oops – I had to leave my stuff there and run to the MAC machine at Weis Market. I approved of this. There are good reasons not to accept credit at your store. It means you will never have uncollectible accounts from your customers. It means you instantly know how much money you have that day. It means fewer costs associated with computers and internet and doing all the electronic transactions. It means fewer hackers. It means less electricity – you could run a shop unplugged in an outdoor market, and if you had to have a cash register, you could run it on a battery, because it wouldn’t need much electricity.

Also, it (secretly) means that you can pay your employees in cash, which is a good thing for an anarchist like me. I hate the government and want to pay my employees in cash and avoid paying taxes. I believe all taxes are evil and nobody should pay any taxes at all, not rich people, not poor people, nobody. I do not believe tax evasion is evil or bad, and I don’t believe that anybody should be expected to pay ‘their fair share’ just because other people are stupid enough to submit to paying theirs. If you only take cash from your customers, then you can pay your employees with money out of the cash register from that day, and never send any record of this payment to the IRS.

Eventually, cash will be illegal, I’m sure. We will be required by law to pay for everything, everywhere, on electronic cards which are owned and controlled by the government. (Barter will be illegal too – it already is, for all practical purposes – you have to keep a detailed record of it and then submit your records to the IRS and pay taxes on all the barter transactions.) But eventually, anybody who requires only cash and refuses to accept credit or debit cards will be viewed with suspicion. The government will start educating
(brainwashing) people everywhere, through television shows and what not, to notice any business that ‘only accepts cash’ and to view them with suspicion. If they only accept cash, then they are probably doing something illegal and should be reported to the government. They’ll do it on those ‘crime drama’ TV shows. I can just see it. The crime drama TV shows will start hinting, on every couple shows, that some place of business ‘only accepts cash,’ which clued someone in to the fact that this business was committing some kind of crime. The people who tattle on these businesses will be viewed as heroes.

I was going to talk about something else, but I don’t remember what it was. I have had memory problems for the last couple days, the same days that I’ve been eating pork sausage, mustard, garlic, olive oil, himalayan pink salt, sichuan pepper, and hot pepper seeds (this is what I’ve been testing). I’ve increased my garlic intake every time I’ve cooked this, and today, I cooked it with three cloves of garlic. I am not noticing ‘garlic withdrawal’ very much now. I still don’t know for sure if the garlic hangover is caused by 1. raw garlic, which I haven’t eaten since the first day, 2. withdrawal after quitting garlic, or 3. toxic buildup, possibly because of being unable to process sulfur-containing foods properly.

But, whatever, for some reason, I’ve been having that thing where I go to do something, or I’m about to say something or write something, and I forget what it was. This can be partly caused by electronic attacks; however, particular drugs, substances, lack of sleep, or illnesses make you more vulnerable to it, so that it’s more
disruptive, and the forgetting lasts longer. Sometimes you might be distracted for only a fraction of a second, but can still remember what it was afterwards; but when you are more vulnerable for any reason, the brief disruption causes you to completely and permanently forget what it was, without being able to recover a second later. You forget whatever it was, and it’s gone forever with no hope of remembering. (Sometimes, ‘the voices’ will remind me about whatever I forgot, but that is not the same as being able to remember it yourself internally without help.)

They gave me an interesting suggestion this morning, but they did not push me to actually act on it yet. I really liked this idea. I had a menu for ‘Hundred Degree Hot Pot,’ which I commented about in my blog a few weeks ago, and jokingly said I hoped it meant a hundred degrees Celsius, not Fahrenheit (because a hundred degrees Fahrenheit wouldn’t cook anything). It’s a Chinese restaurant, and it has a lot of traditional, real Chinese foods, like organ meats, kidney, tendon, tripe, pork belly, and so on.

I glanced at this menu before I went to bed last night, and thought about it a little bit, and this morning, when I woke up, ‘they’ suggested that I should try to get a job there, as a dishwasher and trash-taker-outer and floor mopper. I wouldn’t need to know Chinese, I could just follow hand gestures (point me to the mop, point me to the dish sink). In this fantasy, I would watch and learn Chinese cooking, all day long. I’d slowly start participating in the actual cooking instead of just dishwashing.

Then, I would go away from there, taking all my knowledge, and I would start a Chinese McDonald’s. It would not go by the name ‘McDonald’s,’ of course – it would be my own business. But it would have all the benefits of McD – a drive-thru, speedy service, high-calorie fatty foods that fill you up. (I am aware that people say Chinese food doesn’t fill you up, and you get hungry a short time later, but there is a reason for that, which I must discover. I strongly suspect that some particular herb commonly used in Chinese food causes low blood sugar, or it might be the MSG. Whatever it is, it has a cause, and I can remove the cause and prevent the problem from happening.)

I do not need to explicitly copy Chinese recipes; I only need to be inspired by them. I will also follow the Weston Price principles, so that, for instance, I’m not going to use low-quality rancid vegetable oils for cooking. I will be experimenting with lard and tallow (grass fed) whenever I get money again. I do not need to claim that this restaurant is ‘Chinese.’ It will just be food. But I will have learned how to cook things like beef tendon by working at a Chinese restaurant. I would like to include spices from all over the world, and foods from all over the world (elephant and giraffe from sustainable ranches in Africa, etc, and Thai water bugs). However, that violates the ‘local foods’ concept, so I will have to decide which is important to me. If I followed the principle of local foods, then giraffe and elephant would only be available in the stores that were located in Africa, and would not be exported from there.

By the way, I did eat the chicken brain from my Buddhist style chicken, and did not notice any ill effects at all. I only noticed, for a fraction of a second, a sensation of ‘weird earthy flavor’ which came from the taste buds inside my stomach after I swallowed it. I didn’t know taste buds existed inside the stomach, but they do – I read about it a while back, maybe on wikipedia or something. You have taste buds farther down in your digestive system, and that explains why you have ‘fishy aftertaste’ from cod liver oil. It’s inside your stomach, or intestines, that you are tasting this.

I have tasted this weird unpleasant earthy flavor inside my
throat-stomach several times. It happened when I ate lumpfish caviar from the grocery store, which sickened me, and I could not eat more than just a few tiny pieces. It was spoiled, or something, because I was perfectly able to eat large amounts of fresh, refrigerated salmon eggs (all natural – don’t get the other eggs that have artificial food coloring) from Wegman’s, which I have bought several times and enjoyed. It also happened when I ate eel in sushi. I reacted badly to the eel. I became extremely cold, fatigued, and in pain, and I could not bear to stand up and walk around; and, inconveniently, this happened while I was on the job and ate sushi during my lunch break at Weis. I spent the next several hours suffering pain and fatigue, and wanted to go home. I did research, and discovered that eel blood is poisonous. I had that weird dark unpleasant earthy flavor in my throat-stomach when I ate the eel. So when I ate the chicken brain, I had just one brief little flash of that earthy stomach flavor. But after that, nothing unusual, and I did not get sick.

It is psychologically and emotionally very unpleasant for me to process a chicken when I can see its face. I believe in eating meat, and I want to someday go hunting so that I can understand the reality of killing an animal, so that I can fully accept and be responsible for my choices and beliefs, and so that I can feel confident in my ability to provide food for myself without money.

But I am aware that I will be traumatized by the reality of killing an animal. I could see this expression on the chicken’s eye. It is like an expression of sadness, except it’s not sadness – it’s the face of death. Death has its own unique face. It makes me feel sadness and grief and pain and loss. I have seen this face on dead animals when hunters take a photo of themselves next to a deer or something that they have killed. The animal has a face of deep, unbearable sadness, so deep it is impossible to express, too much sadness, too much pain and grief, an expression of exhaustion and tiredness, of surrender and giving up. When I see this, I automatically empathize with it and cannot stop myself from feeling emotions. That is the reason why they make such a big deal out of closing the eyelids of a dead person. It somewhat reduces your ability to see that expression in their eyes. You can still see it around the edges of the closed eye, though.

Humans are wired to be able to perceive microexpressions, tiny fleeting emotions around the eyes, tiny muscle movements that flicker over a person’s face. There is some recognizable combination of shapes and colors that means ‘death,’ and causes us to feel the emotion of grief, unbearable grief.

But I did process this chicken, with a grimace on my face. Next time I cook a chicken it will be easier. I will make sure to thaw it out completely this time. Not having the chicken completely thawed out ruined my entire process. I will also make sure not to spill half or 3/4 of the broth all over the table and the floor next time! I was so mad at myself. I will also use filtered water. I have a Cheapo Brand Water Filter Pitcher, and it turns out that that’s all I need – it works well enough on our tap water that I am no longer having constant stomach sickness every time I drink anything at home. (I think I might have bought that pitcher the day I went shopping with Jesse.)

I am finding that this pork sausage that I bought is very satisfying, so that I don’t feel like I need to eat another meal over and over again, but that could also be because I bought a bag of ghirardelli 60% cacao chips and have been eating them all day, too. (They’re gone, so now I will begin to suffer hunger.) The most important thing that I need to learn about cooking at home is how to make meals that are satisfying, so that you don’t feel constantly hungry, constantly starving and dissatisfied, thin and empty. I chose the pork sausages because they had a very high percentage of fat in them. I had formerly been getting these uncured franks with no chemicals, and I really liked those and would eat several of them uncooked (since they’re already cooked). But I looked at the nutrition information on the sausage package, and these sausages had an even higher amount of fat in them when I compared them to the hot dogs.

Serving Size: 1 sausage. Total fat = 32% RDA. Saturated fat = 30% RDA. I don’t have a package of the hot dogs, so I can’t remember the numbers for them. But, I eat two sausages at a time, so I am getting 64% total fat and 60% saturated fat of my RDA from one meal. After eating these sausages for three days in a row, while simultaneously finishing up my menstrual period and therefore having much less hunger (you tend to be extremely hungry before and during the period), I suddenly felt like I didn’t want any more sausage today, when I cooked it. I ate the last of it, and it’s gone. Three days in a row seems to be enough for whatever my body wanted to do.

Oh, and by the way, my numb toe seems to be gone now. It is no longer numb. Remember that numb toe that I said started after I left WV, and I couldn’t figure out what caused it? It lasted for months, but it has gradually gone away since I’ve been cooking lots of fatty foods. Fat is needed to regrow myelin sheaths on your nerves and repair nerve damage. However, I also haven’t been working as many hours or standing up as much and wearing those awful work shoes (I need to get another pair of shoes and make sure they fit better next time), so that could partly explain it.

Not working enough hours… still in denial. I’m really mad at the apartment people right now – not the people themselves, not any specific person, not a human, but rather, the automatic computer processing in the website where I pay my rent. My roommates had said that I could just give cash to them if I wanted to, but I didn’t do that – I went to the apartment website and set up an account there and have paid my rent there. I wanted to pay the rent early so that I wouldn’t have that $280 available for anything else, so that I couldn’t accidentally spend it and then not have any money for rent. But the website/computer hasn’t taken the money yet! It acknowledged that I made a payment, but it hasn’t withdrawn it from my bank yet. I wanted it withdrawn immediately so it would be gone and so that I would be forced to understand that I only have about $200 left in my account afterwards.

I have been experiencing a particular kind of attack. I anticipated that I would soon be harassed because I did not do my tax returns yet. I only did the federal, not the state and local. I intend to do them… sometime… but they are late. Normally whenever I don’t pay some kind of bill to the government, I am tortured and harassed by electronic weapons, and they don’t ever bother to explain to me the reason why they are doing it, either. That happened in 2003, the year I went crazy (which happens to be, I’m pretty sure in hindsight, the year that I got the FLU SHOT – never again! – and I remember hearing voices afterwards, and going crazy afterwards – vaccines cause brain inflammation, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they injected me with some kind of nanotech or something, but I’m not worrying about it – there’s nothing that can be done about this) – that was the year that I went crazy and got thrown in the mental hospital and got charged with the crime of harassment for writing letters to the guy at work, and I took Prozac briefly and went even crazier because of it, and was doing therapy with Judith Swack over the phone – everything going on at once. During that time, whenever I was due to pay a bill to the government for my fines, I would be tortured every day if I were late or just due to pay the bill.

They have been doing a milder version of that now. Nagging me to pay my bills has always been an excuse for them to torture and harass me, all these years. And then, ‘they’ are the ones who argued with me and convinced me to stop trying to pay my debts on my credit cards, and to just default on the credit cards and also on my medical and dental debts – they rationalized that I did not receive a valuable service from any of those people, but was harmed instead, so I did not owe them anything. So ‘they’ had also nagged me *not* to pay some of my bills! But they didn’t electronically torture me in reverse to tell me not to pay the bills, not the same way – if they did electronically torture me to force me to not pay bills, it would have been the type of attack that causes uncertainty and lack of will, so that I could not will myself to take the actions necessary to pay the bills. It would not have been the ‘punishment and harassment’ type of torture, which I am experiencing now (but mildly compared to the past).

Back in 2003 and the next couple years, if I didn’t pay my bill to the police, I would get severely tortured with radio frequency weapons and would have things like severe acid reflux attacks – fake acid reflux, not naturally occurring – the kind where you haven’t eaten anything unusual at all, but then all of a sudden out of nowhere, when you’re just walking across the room and doing nothing in particular, suddenly, wham, acid just flies up your throat and makes you cough. That’s fake. They did that to me because I have a vomit phobia and they knew it was very upsetting to me and I always try to avoid vomiting.

Back then I also had the sudden severe head dizziness and artificially induced nausea/motion sickness attacks, which also come from radio frequency weapons, when the radio frequency resonates with your mast cells and causes them to do something, I forget exactly what – they send the signal of having an allergic reaction, or histamine, or something, I just don’t recall the details. (It’s easily found online – this is the most well known type of radio frequency weapon attack, aside from that goddamn ‘crowd control’ thing which will also appear in your google search results.)

They also gave me disgusting, horrible nightmares with horrible music and insulting sexual symbolism and images of urine and feces and vomit – for instance, I would clearly see myself sticking my hand into a bucket filled with vomit, feces, urine, and toilet paper, and stirring it around with my hand – I’m guessing that they copied this sensory perception by reading the brain scans of Guantanamo prisoners, and then overlaid this brain scan onto me so that I would see and feel the same thing.

My torture in the past few years has been *nothing* compared to what it was when it first began in 2003. I’m not on any drugs now except caffeine and low levels of other various drug residues on my clothing, belongings, and carpet. When you’re on drugs, they give you the horrible nightmares. When you’re off drugs, the nightmares stop. Nightmares as such are a naturally occurring phenomenon, when you eat certain foods or take certain drugs, but nowadays, the attackers will ‘program’ the ‘script’ of your nightmare, so that it has a meaningful plot and contains hidden messages and symbols, for whatever reason. When you’re on drugs, all the attacks are worse, and you’re unable to tolerate them – the drugs make you vulnerable to going crazy and getting angry. If you relentlessly torture, harass, and stalk someone who is already drugged and angry, they may snap and start killing people or themselves. I am lucky I never did that.

No, they’ve just been doing trivial attacks on me now. Since my laptop is on a desk now, I have the mouse connected to it, so I’ve been using the mouse a lot instead of using the touchpad below the keyboard. When I use the mouse, my fourth finger, the ring finger, is relaxed and positioned over the right mouse button. The latest recurring attack has been a finger twitch attack. They force your finger to suddenly twitch. Depending on where your finger is located at the time, this attack can be something with hardly any effect, which you can ignore, or it can have a major impact. When your ring finger keeps getting forced to twitch over and over again, it hits the right mouse button and brings up a dialog box. If you then are forced to twitch your whole hand, you move the mouse over one of the selections on the dialog box, which can cause things to happen, like you might delete something you just wrote, or do other functions from the dialog box. During this finger twitch attack, they are also simultaneously giving me a ‘fake forced emotion of anger’ attack. It’s an artificial feeling of rage, just a brief flash of rage which happens at the exact same instant that my finger is forced to twitch.

After I learned of the existence of the finger twitch attack, based on descriptions online from other victims, I realized that they can probably do this attack to force someone to pull the trigger on a gun when they aren’t ready to pull the trigger. They might have their finger over the trigger, but have no intention of pulling the trigger.

I was reading something in one of my RSS feeds not too long ago. I don’t have the link to it right now. I just remember that they were studying something about how nerves work, and they said that, for example, a piano player knows that they made a mistake. I agree with this – I almost always know when I made a mistake. Mistakes usually don’t slip by me, and it bothers me greatly to find out that I made a mistake and wasn’t aware of it until later on. It makes me feel like I must have been writing while asleep (writing being one example where I know I made a mistake while typing). While typing on the keyboard, I know that my hands made a mistake, and I also see the mistake with my eyes. This article said that there was a particular system, within the nervous system, that was designed to detect ‘mistakes’ and make you aware of them – a self-correction system, so that you know when you have done the wrong muscle movement.

The article was interesting to me because I suspect that this is the system that tells me that I was attacked, rather than that I made some movement voluntarily by myself. How do I know I’m being attacked and controlled? How do I know that I am being forced to do things against my will? How do I distinguish the sensation of ‘my own will’ versus ‘an external force making me do things?’ I believe there is a system in the nerves which is hardwired, which tells you when you did something voluntarily on purpose, versus when you made a mistake, and I suspected it was the same system that this science article was talking about.

I could talk all about the reasons why I concluded that the voices in my head came from an external source, using logic. I might not really feel like explaining all of that right now… It was a long line of reasoning. I read about how the weapons work, and I understood that it was possible to do these things. I was helped by the fact that I was using Propellerhead Reason at the time, a computer program where you make your own music synthesizers. So I had an understanding of how electronic sounds are produced because I was working with synthesizers. I learned about radio frequencies and how they induce an electrical current in an antenna, and I understood that every nerve in your body is merely an antenna, and all you have to do is aim the right radio frequency at a nerve, and it will force the nerve to send an electrical signal, just like a metal antenna. That’s a simplified explanation. I learned enough to know it was possible to do these things.

And I meditated, and I listened to the voices and the bursts of noise and static in my head (which can be clearly understood as words and sentences whenever you’re on drugs, saying horrible, horrible, disgusting, evil, foul things – but when you’re off drugs, all you can hear is static – the drugs make you able to hear the voices perfectly clearly, whereas being drug-free makes you unable to hear anything but noise). I asked myself, how is my brain spontaneously producing these bursts of static and voices? Why would I have any reason to just assume that all the voices are originating inside my own head? Only because the authority figures say so. It isn’t because I myself have any particular reason to assume that the voices come from within me. All of mainstream society and mainstream medicine tells me that the voices are coming from inside my own head, not outside, but the mainstream world has been horribly wrong about so many things before – the mainstream society is wrong about the evil of circumcision, mainstream society is wrong about government-controlled fiat money and how it ruins our economic system, mainstream society is wrong about the safety of all these toxic drugs and chemicals that they give us to use every day – so why on earth would I trust mainstream society to tell me the truth about where the voices are coming from? They’ve been wrong about so many other things – I no longer trust them at all. So, I might as well believe whatever makes sense to me, instead of believing what the authority figures tell me to believe.

And I just could not come up with a *mechanism* for *how* the voices and bursts of static are perceived inside my head. Where do they come from? Why are they perceived as voices? Why do they have such a strong resemblance to the sound of a badly tuned radio?

Not only that, but nobody can explain how the voices tell me information that I did not know and could not know – ‘psychic’ information. They would give me pieces of information which turned out to be true, which I could not have known. They still do, to this day. But in the beginning, they made a point of demonstrating and proving to me, so that I was clearly aware that I was being told information coming from an external source, information which I did now know. Any ideas for the mechanism of THAT little brain-glitch? Merely saying ‘it’s psychic’ doesn’t describe the mechanism, the process, of how it works. If you say it’s psychic, you still have to answer the question of how a psychic process works. You have to describe some process where one molecule bumps into another molecule, or one electrical field moves from here to there.

It’s actually a *simpler* explanation to say, ‘People are evil, and I know that they are, and there’s a lot of technology out there that I don’t know about and haven’t seen; therefore, it’s possible for somebody to be doing these things.’

It was insufficient to say that ‘my subconscious’ had somehow ‘processed’ information that I had subconsciously gathered from the environment without being aware of it, so that I would end up with detailed and specific data and numbers and words and pieces of knowledge and information that I had absolutely no way of knowing or having gathered from anywhere. Occam’s razor – why should I bother with such a roundabout explanation for this? It’s so much simpler to just say, somebody told it to me. Instead of twisting my brain all around and running all over the place to make some long, drawn-out, complicated explanation of how my subconscious somehow picked up specific numbers and words and pieces of data, then suddenly released that data into my brain at exactly the right moment by means of ‘intuition,’ so that it *seemed like* an external source gave me the data, why bother? – why not just cut down the explanation to: Somebody DID tell me this piece of data which I could not have known.

The motivation for avoiding the simple explanation is fear. It frightens people to think that somebody put a voice in your head, which told you specific pieces of information that you had no way of knowing. That fear is so intense that they will do anything to avoid it. They will make up any roundabout, complicated explanation to try to find any other way but that, any other way it could have happened but that – intuition, subconscious, whatever. They will do anything imaginable to avoid saying that somebody attacked you, without your consent, attacked your physical body and your physical brain, and put some words in there that did not belong in there, from an outside source. Yes, it is indeed frightening to know that your body is being attacked and that there’s nothing you can do about it. It takes courage to accept this fact. That is the reality of the world. We don’t like it. We hate it. It’s wrong and it’s evil. But it is the truth.

However, this explanation also gives me more hope than the mainstream explanation. The mainstream explanation says: I am mentally ill, and I will probably be mentally ill for the rest of my life, and my only option is to take a dozen different pills which have horrible side effects and which turn me into an emotionless zombie. My explanation has a more optimistic outcome: if only I can save up enough money to build myself a shield, then I can do something to block out the attacks. The attacks are a physical, secular, material, human, technological thing, and therefore, there is some way of defending yourself against them.

There is hope, but yet, someone might feel frantic at these thoughts – what if some evil person or group takes over the whole world and gives us no chance to defend ourselves until it’s too late and we are completely under control? What if we have to hurry? What if there are still a few tiny fragments of freedom left in the world, and we must seize them now before the door closes forever?

I’ve thought about this. I’ve seen enough changes in the attacks when I travel to realize that their system is imperfect and it is not all-encompassing or all-powerful. It would be possible to run fast enough at just the right moment to escape the system and make them lose track of you. If you dashed out the right hole at the right moment when no one was looking, they’d lose you and they wouldn’t be able to find you again. I’m sure it’s possible. The attacks change when I travel from place to place. If it were just an
all-encompassing system covering everybody everywhere, then it would be constant and unchanging. But it is not. It changes, and therefore, there must be holes and vulnerabilities.

I should go back and reread this. I have a feeling that I started tangents and never finished them.

Oh, I think the reason I got on this tangent was because I said they keep doing the finger-twitch-flash-of-rage attacks. I’m using the computer, and they twitch my ring finger over the right mouse button to bring up a dialog box, over and over again, while simultaneously triggering a flash of artificial rage. The only way I can avoid it is by wrapping my ring finger over the right edge of the mouse so it is not directly over the button but is instead pressing against the side of the mouse, where it cannot be easily twitched. It is an
uncomfortable position where I have to slightly stretch the tendons in my fingers and spread the fingers farther apart than I like. It’s like making the ‘live long and prosper’ finger gesture from Star Trek, where you spread your middle and ring fingers apart. It takes a little bit of strain to do that.

When they do these kinds of harassment attacks, sometimes they have a ‘reason’ (they’re punishing me for something specific), and sometimes they don’t, and victims have no way of knowing what the ‘reason’ is at any given moment, or whether they have a reason at all, or whether they are doing it merely because they can and because you exist. I am attacked constantly, 24 hours a day, and there can’t always be a ‘reason’ for what they are doing it. They do it because they are evil, stupid, and insane, and because they exist and because I exist and because they can. That is the reason. But they are trying to suggest that the ‘reason’ for this rage/twitch attack is because my tax forms are late. But if they really wanted me to complete my tax forms, all they have to do is push the buttons to force me to get the idea to do it, and force me to do it, and I know they are capable of suggesting things for me to do and forcing me to do them. Therefore, there is no ‘reason’ to use this punishment/harassment for the ‘purpose’ of telling me I need to do my taxes. It’s pointless, ineffective, and unnecessary, and, as always, they do stuff like this without ever telling the victims why they are doing it, so the victim is not even capable of changing their behavior even if they wanted to. You can’t shout to them, ‘Hey, I’ll do whatever you want me to do! Just stop attacking me, okay? I’ll do it, I swear!’ That technique has no effect. They just ignore you, and keep on attacking you and torturing you for no reason at all, with no effect except to just destroy your life and your soul. There is no way to somehow negotiate with them and do what they want you to do, to make them stop attacking you. They are not rational people attacking you for rational reasons. They are evil, insane, stupid people attacking you for evil, insane, stupid reasons. Negotiation and communication are not possible. But we won’t get into that.

What else? My (their) idea of making a Chinese version of McDonald’s. A drive-thru, speedy service, low prices, open 24 hours, a global brand available on every continent, filling, satisfying meals that don’t leave you feeling empty. I’d go there. I’d totally work there. It should follow the McD model of being one of the top ten best places to work. McD was recognized as a good place to work, and I agree, it is. They have flexible scheduling and it’s an enjoyable environment. You socialize with a lot of people and you’re always active and never bored. I would make the Chinese McD the same way – and, a reminder, I’m not talking about an actual Chinese McDonald’s, because they really exist – McD is in China, and they have some menu items that are only available in China, along with other foreign countries, but it’s not the same as traditional Chinese food. I’m talking about something that isn’t actually McDonald’s at all, but is modeled after that basic idea.

I think I will just play my video game tonight. I need to reassure myself that this will get better, that I will get through this depression, that I will get back to work, I will have money again, I will have hope and I will be able to accomplish goals again, I will be able to do the things I need to do. I think I lost all hope when I started noticing I was having ephedra reactions from the carpet at this apartment after I walked on it with my dirty shoes, due to not having ever finished my soil decon at the tent. The only solution is to leave this apartment, but I am already loving this location and bonding with these people, and when will I ever get the opportunity to pay $280 a month and live with Chinese people and watch them cooking and hear their beautiful language every day? I don’t want to leave. But that will be the only way to get out of the ephedra contamination on the floors. I just gave up hope and started to become miserable when the ephedra began again here – I had wanted to start buying expensive appliances again, I wanted a sewing machine. I could still use a sewing machine if I went to someone else’s house and rented it from them. But I wanted my own sewing machine area. I wanted all the tools. I wanted to make things here. I wanted to start now. But now, I have to wait. I cannot do it while contaminated.

Remember, I did this for a reason. I was sick for months this winter with a mystery virus like mono, or like radiation sickness from the snow and rain. I was staying at the hotel over and over, and paying $60 a night – whereas I can stay at this apartment for $280 a month, which is the price of fewer than five hotel nights, for an entire month, with a refrigerator, and all the benefits of living here. I am doing this for a reason, but sadly, it is temporary, and I will have to move on eventually. I will just remember whatever I learned here.

now we’re cooking with gas

April 27, 2014

2:41 PM 4/27/2014

I ate sausage today. I bought this white sausage that I forget the name of – bratwurst, I think. I also bought garlic, olive oil, and organic brown mustard. Today I threw all those things together and fried it. It was really, really good, and just one of the sausages wasn’t enough, but I didn’t have time to cook another one yet.

(*I’m throwing in this little anecdote. This was something funny ‘the voices’ said. One of my coworkers at TB will sometimes say, ‘NOW we’re cooking with gas!’ to mean that now we are working efficiently, now we understand something we’ve been struggling to understand, now everything is working the way it should be working. Well, the voices said ‘NOW we’re cooking with garlic!’ and then it was ‘NOW we’re cooking with olive oil! NOW we’re cooking with random ingredients!’ (because I threw some dried cranberries in with the sausage). The meal really was good, so I really am cooking with gas now, if everything is going the way it should be.*)

I was testing garlic this morning. I just cut off a small piece of garlic and ate it raw. You don’t want to eat a large piece of raw garlic, or even a whole clove of cooked garlic, because if any of it is still uncooked, it is extremely strong, and I did that once and almost threw up – I ate a whole clove, if I recall, which I had cooked. It burns your mouth. The little piece of raw garlic that I ate this morning didn’t do anything terrible to me yet. I cooked more of it with the sausages.

I’ll be going into withdrawal tomorrow, so I’ll be able to test and find out whether 1. eating more garlic cures the withdrawal, or 2. the toxicity builds up and continues to cause fatigue even after you eat more garlic. If I go into withdrawal from caffeine, drinking more caffeine fixes the withdrawal. But if something is toxic to you in a non-drug-like way, you aren’t really going into ‘withdrawal’ the next day and wanting more of it and having your symptoms eased by more of it. Instead, eating more and more of it will just gradually make you more toxic. I’ll find out what happens when I eat garlic every day. I know I will smell like garlic.

One of my roommates got beef tendon. I saw the package of it. I had seen that in Asian stores. It’s one of the foods that she probably cooks in the pressure cooker. It has to be cooked for a very long time.

Even though I’m not actually studying to cook with them, merely observing them and noticing bits and pieces of what they do is teaching me and suggesting things to me. I’ve known about some of this for a long time, having read about eating organ meats and offal that isn’t used in American cooking. But just seeing somebody doing it makes me curious enough that I’ll look something up on the internet to find out how it’s done. I’m learning by proximity even though no one is teaching me and I haven’t memorized any recipes. I am being inspired by them, much more than I would have been by living with other Americans and seeing them cook, I dunno, meat loaf or some other boring American foods. I’ve never cooked meat loaf in my life, as far as I know, unless maybe I helped somebody else cook it. I don’t hate meat loaf, it’s just an example of the typical boring American food, something which is classical American. (Now somebody’s going to go do research on meatloaf and find out that it came from Austria or something, but oh well.)

Last night at TB, I worked with the female manager who took me seriously when I told her that I hated working front counter. She did not make me work there. I did dishes and I made food. However, I don’t know which manager I’ll be working with tonight.

I felt quite guilty and anxious and depressed when I saw her, and so, I had another conversation with her to fix it. I told her, thank you for listening to me when I talked to you the other day, and I told her, this is an update, I’m doing okay, I will probably need more hours here because I am not working at McD, but I will have to work in the afternoon because I have trouble getting up in the morning. All of this will have to change when McD reopens. If I want to work my two-job schedule, I will be working one job in the morning and one in the afternoon.

I felt like a liar, telling her that I was going to need more hours, right after having threatened, in the previous conversation, to cut back my hours even more because I hated working front counter so much and was going insane. I do need more hours, I just don’t want to get stuck working 40 hours a week at front counter. If I absolutely had to work front counter, then I would have a choice between getting another job, or really going crazy and hating my job every day. I felt bad for demanding something and having her give in to my demands. I felt bad for inconveniencing them by making them find other people to work front counter instead of me.

She probably felt bad for making me (at least for a while) do a job that I hated doing. She isn’t an evil person – she doesn’t gleefully boss us all around with no concern at all for what we like or dislike. I was just warning her (and all of them) that I was losing control over myself and might quit suddenly if the hate of my job built up like it had done at McD. I didn’t want that to happen, so I had to talk about it in advance before it happened, and that’s why I had to go so far as to make demands and threats to get what I wanted. I don’t like having to do that. I prefer to be easygoing and flexible and willing to do whatever they want me to do. She isn’t really the manager of our store, not officially – she’s from the other store, but she is the wife of our store manager, and they cooperate. I can’t figure out which socionic type she is. Her husband is the IEI who I sometimes have conflicts with. She could be a SLE, she just doesn’t remind me of any other people who I have ever typed as SLE. I’m having a hard time figuring her out.

I have to go now….

continuing to comb my locks

April 26, 2014

I just realized, I’m not sure what happens when I write a blog post and send it by email, with pictures attached to it. I don’t know how it will come out when it gets posted. Normally when I attach pictures to a blog post, I do it through the wordpress dashboard, and I can see how it looks. I’ll test this. I don’t have time to fix it if it goes wrong, because I’m just about to go out the door to work.

My hair is getting longer and longer as the locks get combed out.

Millet, chicken, or drug residue withdrawal – the trigger of my intense hunger

April 25, 2014

8:56 PM 4/25/2014

I’ve been eating millet all week. I bought a bag of organic millet when I went to the Asian food store. (Note: there are probably other places to buy millet, not just at Asian stores, it just happened to be something I saw when I was there and wanted to try it at random). Millet is birdseed. It’s eaten as a staple food by millions of people in other regions of the world.

I decided to read about cravings. I read through an article which actually was not very good, but the comments after the article were much more knowledgeable than the article itself. Lots of other people talked about cravings and what they knew about them. Several people said they stopped having cravings when they went on low-carb paleo diets, which happens to be something I’m going to try.

I’ve been eating millet all week, and several people said that eating carbohydrates, things like millet, bread, and other grains, triggers cravings. They talked about what I do when I buy soda – I will do nothing but drink soda all day long until the soda is completely gone, an entire two-liter. I’ll drink it until it totally disgusts me, and then will still want to drink more of it later on.

So eating millet might have led to my developing a lot of cravings.

The other theory I have is chicken. I have suspected that eating a lot of my home cooked chicken worsens my cavities, but I am not certain of it because it also correlated with several other foods I was eating at the same time (which is why I’m kind of trying to keep it simple and eat isolated foods, so I can see what’s happening). I had a cavity incident during the days when I cooked this chicken – but I had also gotten a bunch of Coke during that time, too.

The Weston Price people talked about ‘rabbit hunger.’ The Native Americans told WP that if you ate too many rabbits and not enough of other types of meat, you could starve to death. He theorized that it was because rabbits were very low fat. However, I wonder if there could be an unknown substance, a poison, in rabbits. Maybe chickens have some kind of poison in them too.

There is actually reason to believe that a particular meat might contain something slightly poisonous. Again on the WP page, they did studies of what happened to the cells in your blood after you ate pork. Many people noticed that they felt severe fatigue and ‘brain fog’ after eating pork. Many traditions call for pork to be eaten with sauerkraut or other special foods. So they did some tests and looked at blood under the microscope. Eating pork all by itself caused people’s blood cells to clump together in little stacks called rouleaux. Eating pork with sauerkraut prevented the clumping, and also, eating pork that had been properly cured also prevented the blood from clumping. They didn’t find out which substance triggered the clumping or how it worked, or I don’t remember if they did. But if that’s happening with pork, then maybe other substances, in other animals, can cause poison-like effects or strange effects on the body.

So maybe eating too much chicken and not enough other meats caused me to develop the feeling of starvation. I cooked some ground beef today, and when I ate it, it tasted really good, and felt like it was what I wanted. It tasted so much different from the chicken and it was a relief. Ideally, I’d like to have several different types of meat ready to eat at one time, but for several days, I had nothing but chicken, and some slim jims, which I ran out of. So I had eaten just chicken and millet and a few other small things, for the past few days.

I’m still remembering the commenters who all mentioned paleo diets and low carb diets as being ways to stop cravings. I plan to try that. I’d also like to try raw meat. However, I tested an extremely small bit of raw meat, which I marinated in vinegar, wondering if it would kill the parasites. I ate just a tiny bit of it the next day, and, of course, that night, I had really weird things going on in my intestines, but I can’t be sure if I had parasites or not. It was only a very tiny bit of raw meat.

Meanwhile, other people on the internet claim that they’re eating raw meat diets. I know some of it has to be true, but not necessarily all of it. Wild animals eat raw meat diets all the time, and they also always have parasites all the time. If it were possible to function with parasites, to not get sick, to not go crazy, to not have horrible fatigue and exhaustion, then I wouldn’t mind having parasites either. But they make me horribly sick when I get them, and I have angry emotional outbursts because my brain and probably also my liver get swollen. I can’t recall where I read that parasites cause
inflammation in the brain. Basically, they cause inflammation in many different body tissues, and they release toxins that go all over the body.

Anyway, the ‘millet or chicken’ theory is what I’m thinking of now. But also, the esoteric ‘I changed into new clothes and thereby got rid of some drug residues and then went into withdrawal’ theory is still valid. It’s just that nobody else knows about this and nobody is talking about it anywhere on the net. I can get reminders about low carb diets from other people, but I can’t get lots of agreement from hundreds of people all chiming in about how their lives were changed after they did drug residue decontaminations (and I’m *not* talking about ‘detox,’ either, which is something different, where you take a bunch of dangerous substances and dangerous, toxic herbs, with the intention of somehow cleansing drugs out of the inside of your body. I’m talking about getting rid of *external* drug residues on your clothing and belongings, and I want to stay away from any toxic substances that people use for detox. Detox is dangerous.).

Severe food obsession today; went shopping and bought stuff to test my food cravings

April 25, 2014

5:57 PM 4/25/2014

Warning: Endless food obsession, even though I’m eating right now as I write, and just went grocery shopping.

I’m going to run out of money soon, but I’m in denial about it. At the last minute, I’m going to ask TB for more hours. I had been strongly considering going in tonight, but then I went grocery shopping instead because I was extremely hungry, and because my food routine is the most important project in my life right now. I’m troubleshooting my cravings, trying to understand what exactly each craving is for, and trying to fill the cravings with foods that are acceptable on my special diet (which often means that I violate my own diet rules just to test various things, which I’m doing right now). The goal is to have a completely homemade diet, with foods that are satisfying enough that I can bring them to work with me every day, so I can stop buying particular junk foods that I buy all the time, which are expensive. I need to reduce the cost of my diet.

TB called me while I was grocery shopping. I’m not scheduled to go in tonight, and I would normally not be available at this time, but I am becoming available now, as soon as I can get over my denial. I’m fighting it. I don’t want to work more hours at a time when I’m still in the process of setting up my food routine. It takes *days* to recover from working at all, and when I’m tired, I can’t go shopping or make food at home. I am still using a lot of caffeine, although not as badly as before, and I haven’t been able to quit. I withdrew for like, two days, then started again.

I know I will be okay with money. I paid the rent for next month, which would have been due on May 1st. I paid it early because I knew if I didn’t pay it, I might accidentally spend it on other things. Paying the rent came first. None of this would be a problem if I hadn’t had the problem with McD which caused me to decide to do a leave of absence there – although, also, I was sick for several months too, which was the other part of the reason why I took time off. Now that it’s warm, I’m less sick.

Anyway, as I said, I know my money will be okay. I won’t starve to death. I have a couple sources of money that I could use if I had to; and also, there are thousands of people around me who would give me free food as an act of charity if I asked for it. I am not in the middle of the desert.

But I’m not wanting to go in to TB tonight. I wasn’t 100% sure I would. I was thinking about it.

McD is supposed to reopen at the end of June. I can wait two months, and then I will be able to have a second job and control my work schedule again.

Well, what am I noticing, with all this diet testing? For this grocery trip, I’m testing salt, garlic, and dairy products. Dairy products contain ‘opioid proteins,’ and I don’t recall the name – caseomorphin? They are addictive, and they go through the same metabolic pathways as opium and heroin and morphine. Dairy products wouldn’t necessarily be bad, it’s just that the dairy products that are commonly available are poor quality: they contain hormones, and some unknown substance in them causes rapid fat gain literally overnight, but it’s not in all dairy products. I notice it most with butter, but I’m not having the problem with this ghee, and I’ve been using *tons* of ghee; but if I were to have merely one or two slices of butter, my thighs would get fatter literally overnight – I think it’s a synthetic hormone, but I’m not sure.

The domestic cow breeds also produce unnaturally high levels of particular hormones, because they were bred that way, so it could actually be coming from the cow itself, and you would have to avoid those unnatural breeds and hybrids. If I ever buy cows, and I hope someday I will have some kind of a farm, then I will want old heritage breeds, or cows that produce what’s known as A2 milk rather than A1 milk – there is a particular substance in the A1 milk which causes reactions in some people, and some cows genetically have the ability to either produce this substance, or not. Some people somewhere started producing and selling A2 milk, but then the dairy industry freaked out and ganged up on them, and it either became illegal to sell that milk, or, I forget what happened. I think it was New Zealand, maybe.

I don’t know yet what the cause is, I only know that something in some dairy products causes extremly rapid fat gain. I know that when I drink Starbucks frappuccinos, which I drink tons and tons of while working at TB, I have hormone-induced sexual arousal. That didn’t happen when I was drinking raw milk from grassfed cows, which I bought from an Amish farmer a few years ago. However, I still have problems with milk, even that raw grassfed milk. Long story. It was addictive, and when I drank a lot of it, I would go into withdrawal and, literally, start weeping and crying, and would have an intense craving; also, weeping can be caused by having too many electrolytes in the blood – and milk contains too much sodium and potassium.

I’m still working on it and making observations, so today, I bought cheese and I will test my addiction to it. Will it satisfy my craving for frappuccinos? I also bought chocolate. Chocolate cravings are partly a craving for fat, and partly a craving for the drugs in the chocolate – theobromine, theophylline, and caffeine.

I bought olive oil. I seem to desire a variety of fats and oils, not all the same thing all the time, and not all the same type of fat. I bought another cheap staple food that I don’t like very much, but want to continue experimenting with: dried beans. Beans have to be cooked for a million years, no matter what kind they are and no matter what it says on the package. Some of the smaller ones say you don’t have to cook them forever, but you do. Then, after cooking them forever, they’re still not edible. Mixing them with some kind of grease is helpful, and I also dislike the texture, even after cooking them for a very long time – and I’m not comfortable leaving them unsupervised, so I have no means of cooking them for, like, three days, or a week, or whatever the traditional method is. I was reading about Chinese red beans. They cook them in water the usual way, then mush them up and squeeze them through a strainer (sometimes, depending on what they’re making) to get rid of the skins, then mix the mush with lard and sugar, and make it into desserts. That sounds great to me! But I don’t have any lard right now, and I refuse to buy hydrogenated lard from the grocery store. I will wait till I have money again, and buy grassfed lard online. I had noticed ‘red bean’ and ‘red bean paste’ in some of the Chinese restaurant desserts, and I’ve tried it once or twice (I’m just kind of ‘meh, so-so’ on that).

I’ve been trying tamarind candy. Foreign cultures mix tastes together that Americans don’t. I bought this tamarind candy – tamarind is a fruit, so it’s sweet; it’s dried and coated with sugar, and in this particular variety, it also has a tiny bit of chili powder added to it, so it’s spicy. So this is kind of a sweet, sour, and spicy hot candy. When do you ever see chili powder in any American candies, or on fruit? ‘Hot’ is associated with savory ‘dinner’ foods, and ‘sweet’ is in its own separate universe, and the two tastes must never come together, in America.

I haven’t been buying bread. I may or may not test that in the future.

I bought some new clothes at the thrift store a couple days ago. I still need to get more, but this is a bad time to be spending any extra money on anything at all. However, it helped somewhat with the drug residues. I’m still noticing that stuff doesn’t wash out of clothing, even though I have a washer in this apartment that I don’t have to pay for, which is really nice, so I could wash my laundry five times a day every day if I felt like it. I can’t get rid of my old clothes yet because it’s still cold outside some of the time, and I need layers of sweatshirts. But I’m definitely reacting to them now and wish I could get rid of them – I also wish I could get rid of all the carpets and clean the floors, but I’ll just have to wait till later to finish that part of the decon (I’ll just go live elsewhere, when the time comes, and hopefully it will be progress).

I think that might be why I’m so painfully hungry today, but I’m not sure. I was so hungry it hurt. I’ve been eating mostly at home for the past couple days, and even though I’m adding grease to almost everything, I still often feel cravings for things, and sometimes still feel extremely hungry even though I’ve eaten. I attempted to get one or two things that might satisfy this painful hunger – it literally almost hurt. I felt like I was starving earlier today. I might actually have been going into drug withdrawal as a result of changing out of my other clothes, that was the whole point of what I was saying.

The food was all expensive, but a lot of it will be gone in just a couple days. I absolutely must get this routine settled, must troubleshoot my cravings and feelings of starvation, must get on a healthier diet, must prevent further tooth decay, must quit coffee – everything. I have to do all this right now, without any money – and of course, I can’t. It will be all right, but I’m in an obsessive and frustrated mood today. I was feeling anxious and helpless and panicky earlier, another sign of drug residue withdrawal. It’s also associated with running out of money, though.

The squirrels, birds, and ducks love my compost pile. There are two mallard ducks (I don’t remember if mallard only refers to the male, but it’s actually a male-female pair) that hang out around here. I put out an old loaf of bread that a previous roommate left in the fridge, which was taking up space. I don’t eat much bread, and did not like that particular kind anyway – I prefer to eat breads that don’t have chemicals added to them. It’s almost impossible to find additive-free breads in the stores. Bread always has a long list of mysterious ingredients. The ducks and other animals ate the bread. It was gone in a few days. I just recently put out half a watermelon which wasn’t mine. I don’t know the story behind it, but my roommates accidentally bought a watermelon and didn’t use it and ended up trashing it. If I recall, it might possibly have been left out at room temperature, and this was one of the watermelons that are already cut in half, and you can’t leave it out if it’s already opened up. I just happened to find it in the trash, uneaten, and decided to put it in my compost pile. I think that might possibly have been what a squirrel was carrying just now, something small and pinkish red which might have been a chunk of watermelon. There are songbirds that are eating the chicken egg shells. Apparently they need the minerals in the eggshells so that their bodies can make their own eggs, since it’s nesting season. I actually saw a bird picking up fragments of eggshells and eating them.

I had been throwing avocado pits out there, along with several spoiled avocados. I had problems several times with buying organic avocados, then discovering that several in the package were spoiled only a short time later. These would be packages of three. I couldn’t eat them all fast enough. I hadn’t refrigerated them because – long story, I was trying to ripen them, but these didn’t need any more ripening. Basically, several batches of avocados ended up spoiling, several times in a row, and so if I get them again, I’ll have to do it all differently. So I threw out avocados and pits in the compost pile. But then, I started reading about how to sprout avocados, and it’s actually not that hard to do (some seeds require an apocalypse before they will sprout – you have to set them on fire, chew them, crack them, digest them, poop them out, jump up and down on them, soak them for months, freeze them over the winter, and wait till all the planets are aligned before they will sprout). I decided to try soaking a few avocado pits. A few days ago, they sprouted! I was delighted. They have sprouted only a little bit and seem to have stopped, though, so I don’t know what will happen. I hope they don’t just sprout a little bit and then die. I’m keeping an eye on them.

The other day, early in the morning, I heard the sound of lawnmowers. I ran outside, scooped up my compost pile into a bag, and made it temporarily disappear. They didn’t mow over here that day, it was actually like two days later that they finally got around to mowing over here. They mowed right over where my compost pile would have been. After they left, I dumped it back out there again. I’m sure I’m not allowed to have a compost pile outside my back door, but it wasn’t explicitly written anywhere (RULE #1: NO COMPOST PILES!). It’s just one of those things that I have a feeling would be a rule if only it had occurred to them that somebody might do that. I’ll be the first person who did it.

I really was considering going in to TB, I really was, but I just can’t do it. I will just wait till tomorrow. I’m scheduled to go in tomorrow, and I don’t have to go in today. I’ll just fool around tonight, one more night, and stay in denial a little bit longer about my need for money. I’ll get through it.

Dear Jesse is still in my life, although I don’t get to be with him as often as I want to. We’ve been talking more often since his grandmother died – he was too preoccupied with that while it was going on, when she was sick, and now he has enough energy to focus on me more than he did. I am hoping to see him again soon.

Not really fired from McD – I talked to a couple other people about it.

April 21, 2014

6:00 PM 4/21/2014

My roommate is cooking dinner in a Boston Bomber. Those things scare the crap out of me. (Pressure cookers.) I used to have one. I remember carefully reading the instructions and making sure not to overheat it because I was afraid it would explode. I made sure that the little hissing thing on the top was hissing at exactly the right frequency, not too fast or too constantly, but instead a rhythmic hiss-hiss-hiss-hiss. Mine had a sort of cylinder thing on top of the opening and the cylinder would swing back and forth as the steam came out under it. The one in the kitchen now is going almost constantly, not rhythmically. Whatever they’re cooking, it smells really good, but I’m glad there is the corner of a wall between me and the pressure cooker right now. I’m sitting at the desk in the corner, which I hardly ever use, and typing on my laptop.

The reason why I’m sitting on my desk instead of the bed (and I thought to myself that referring to pressure cookers, from now on, as ‘Boston Bombers,’ is kind of funny and dated, something our generation will remember, but future generations won’t know why they’re called that, unless somebody does it again – I was reading about terrorism in the 1970s – it had a different theme, the theme of freedom for Marxist countries – I don’t like to use the t-word to describe it though) – As I was saying, the reason I’m at the desk is because I am now embarrassed to be in my room all day and in my bed. I usually sit on the bed with my laptop on my lap, where its radio frequency transmissions can mutate the DNA in my ovaries. (I’m not worried about this, but perhaps I should be.) I’m not working at McD now, just TB, and I’m only working at TB two nights a week. The rest of the time, I’m doing whatever I feel like doing.

Sooner or later, my roommates will notice that I’m not working as much as I did originally. I have the curtain open tonight, because I think it’s unfriendly to keep the ‘door’ closed all the time. I like my roommates, I really do, but I am extremely antisocial, tired all the time, and worried about my own things. Even if they were American, I wouldn’t socialize much with them – it’s not just because they’re Chinese. I am actually very, very happy to have Chinese roommates, because they are constantly inspiring me to learn more about real Chinese foods. American food is horribly boring. I don’t even have words to describe how boring it is. Chinese food is much more like the kind of food I want to eat, although I won’t eat rice and I won’t eat MSG. Other than that, I like it, and, oh yeah, I won’t use vegetable oils – or, I may test a few of them before saying that they are forbidden forever and ever. I just won’t use crappy, cheap vegetable oils. I will be selective and knowledgeable about how I use vegetable oils.

Anyway, I’m now ashamed of 1. keeping the curtain closed all day, and 2. sitting on the bed all the time. I grew up with my parents being mad at me because I had chronic fatigue and slept all day or stayed in bed. Now I’m thinking my roommates are judging me too, although they never say anything out loud.

As I expected, my money is hemorrhaging now that I’m working less. I’ve been eating out and eating junk food, because I *still* don’t have my food routine set up. I have a few scattered things in both fridges, but nothing is really done yet. I’m testing foods, but they’re not ready to be put into containers and taken to work with me or something. I certainly don’t have any foods that can be kept at room temperature, which have also been made at home, which also contain enough calories and grease to keep me from being hungry while I work at TB.

And my foods are very plain, not enjoyable. I would like to add salts and spices to them. Right now, I deliberately am not adding salt to anything. I’m not paranoid about salt, I’m just not adding it to anything during this testing phase. I have to pay attention to the food itself and how it makes me feel. I don’t want to add substances that are known to be ‘addictive’ to my foods. I want to observe how my body reacts to just single, individual foods by themselves. I’ve been using plenty of coconut oil and ghee (always cooked, of course, since I got parasites from eating ghee out of the jar). They are not causing any noticeable problems for me, although I have some suspicions that even fatty acids can cause tooth decay – and this would be unthinkable anathema to Weston Price followers.

So I don’t really ‘like’ my food. I also have a couple of cheater foods – I bought these uncured hot dogs that don’t have nitrates in them, except celery salt. They’re very good, and I eat them when I want quick easy food that is somewhat filling. I just eat them ‘raw,’ because they are already fully cooked. I’m not actually cooking them and making hot dogs in buns. I just eat them out of the package.

I talked to people from McD, and they reassured me that I was not fired. It was the Nittany Mall manager who tried to fire me. Other people heard about it and contacted me through facebook and we talked on the phone and sent some messages back and forth and got it settled what happened. A manager from Hills told me that I wasn’t fired from Hills, and I told her that I was planning to just take a leave of absence and come back when Hills reopened. (I’m praying that the store itself does not have noise pollution or offgassing chemicals or something that will cause environmental illness and pain just from being in the building…. I really suspect that part of the reason why it was unbearable to work at the front counter at Nittany Mall McD was because there was some kind of high pitched noise coming from the fans or the ventilation somewhere, or something which I could not define.)

Anyway, I will have to soon ask TB for more hours, but I really really don’t want to. They’ve been doing the worst possible thing they could do: putting me on front counter or drive-thru. I absolutely cannot stand those positions, and this is non-trivial – this is not merely a ‘first world problem,’ this is a job-ruining problem, so severe that I will have to get another job elsewhere because I cannot stand to go in to work every day if I have to be at the counter. I love washing dishes. I would rather wash dishes all day long than stand up on front counter doing nothing and going insane. I am not even joking. I *have to* do something with my hands, and tools – I have to make something or clean something, and I cannot clean something which is trivial and unimportant – it has to be major, noticeable, ‘gross filth’ type of cleaning, not a ‘Oh, there’s a fingerprint on the glass at the front door, could you get a bottle of window cleaner and wipe it off?’ No, I have to be cleaning big, obvious pieces of dirt or food off of things, if I’m to be cleaning.

That is why I’m able to spend a ridiculous amount of time combing out my dreadlocks. Okay, the other day when I combed out the big ball at the end of the first monster lock, I did that for about six and a half hours, all day long. I’m working on the second monster lock, which is in the back, which is nowhere near as bad as the first one.

I have to get past the ball at the end of that one too, and from then on, no other dreadlocks on my head will be difficult at all. I’ve found that as soon as you get past any complicated loopy places at the ends of the locks, it suddenly becomes very quick and easy to just gently comb the lock right out in a short time, once you get to the ‘mature’ part of the lock where there are no loops anymore. Loops are complicated and delicate, and you have to be careful when you comb them, or you will yank the hair too hard and break it. Sometimes you spend hours not being able to find a way in. But once you find the key, once you find an ‘active region’ as I call it, then you can open it up quickly.

I’ve been working on the second monster lock on and off for the past couple days and have made a lot of progress on it, but have not gotten above the looped ball part yet. Once I do, there will be nothing left to worry about, and it will all go very quickly. I just didn’t want to do all the easy stuff first and then get left with a couple of difficult locks that took weeks and weeks to comb out, while the rest of my hair was loose. I wanted it to be the other way around, having only a couple difficult locks mostly done before I did the rest.

That’s another thing I don’t want my roommates to see me doing. It takes forever, and you’d have to be insane to spend six hours combing a dreadlock, but I did that and I liked it. Doing detailed work with tools and hands is my reason for being. I know I enjoyed knitting and crochet, but that was during the time of the ephedra contamination, so I got rid of that stuff and didn’t finish learning. I will do it again in the future.

I know I need to work more hours, but just haven’t accepted it yet. I really, really, really don’t want to work more hours at TB just standing at the front counter. That is totally unacceptable. That is not the job I want to do, and again, I really strongly insist that I mean it. I’m not joking and it’s not a trivial problem. I want to be taken seriously. I actually had a little conversation with one of the managers a couple days ago, one of the female managers who I get along with pretty well, and I confessed to her that I go crazy if I work front counter. I emphasized it strongly enough to convey that I was serious, and I said if I had to keep working there, I would be forced to cut my hours and work less, because I absolutely couldn’t stand it. I mentioned the same thing to another manager, but he did not accept how serious I was. This is an ‘I’m serious enough that I really will quit working here, for the most part, if I keep having to work front counter.’ It is intolerable and it makes me hate going in to work every day, and I *certainly* do not want to increase my hours there if I am going to work front counter. All the people who work front counter are quitting, and gee, there’s a reason for that. Nobody stays there long. I don’t like outright quitting jobs unless I absolutely have to, and I don’t like bonding with a group of people and then leaving them, and I’ve gotten used to the people there and I like them – even those doggone IEIs with their germ phobias who I still get in conflicts with to this day.

I desperately have to work more hours, but I also desperately need a job that won’t make me insane. I was working the front counter at Nittany Mall McD too, which is part of why I quit. And the managers were being… I don’t have the word for it. They were ignoring me, and not just me, but other people from Hills as well. You’d need something from them, and they would literally act like they could not hear you. I walked up right next to one girl and said something very loudly, while she ignored me and continued texting on her phone – and SHE’S A MANAGER. It’s her job to give me these things I need, so I can do my job – I needed money for the drawer, I needed quarters, I needed one dollar bills, I needed a manager to type a number in the computer for me, that kind of thing, I’d ask for those things that I absolutely had to have, and they would ignore me. I’m not the only one they did this to. I don’t even like talking about it. I just quit.

Fortunately, other people from Hills have been complaining to *our* managers about this kind of stuff happening with them, too, so I’m not the only one, so my own managers have been sympathetic about my ‘quitting’ incident. I didn’t really quit, I just couldn’t bring myself to go to work that day, anymore. I hated it so much, I couldn’t force myself to go in and do it even for just a couple more days. So I just called them and said I wasn’t coming in, and the manager who answered said that if I did that, I would be terminated, and I said I understand. This was about an hour before I had to go in, and you’re supposed to call at least two hours in advance. And I did not even bother to lie and say I was sick, I just said I was not coming in. That is why she responded that way. At least I called, instead of just no-showing.

So I have to make some decisions. Where will I get more hours, so I don’t run out of money? If only I could cook and eat nothing but my own food, I wouldn’t waste so much money, but that hasn’t happened yet, not completely. I need to work someplace where I won’t go insane. But I refuse to work for Penn State, but Penn State is pretty much ‘The’ employer in this town. Everyone else is just providing services to Penn State students. There are no factories here, not really, although I did used to work at an evil satanic chip resistor factory (State of the Art, Inc.), which I got from a temp job assignment. They sold things to the military and they sold things which were probably made into weapons or mind control equipment or satellite equipment and stuff like that.

Technically, I still don’t even want to work. I’d rather be a hunter-gatherer and I’d rather be learning how to store foods at room temperature, or preserve foods underground in clay, and use other preservation methods, so I don’t have to live in a house.

Remember: I moved into this apartment for a few reasons. I had been staying in the hotel too often, and it cost too much. I had been sick. I’m eating foods in the refrigerator now. I only had junk food on the mountain. I was making no progress there either. I have to remember that there was a time when I was doing things differently, and there was a reason why I chose to move here. When Hills reopens, it will be easier to go to work at McD, and I’ll be able to save more money again. Everything is supposed to be temporary, but I am not making much progress.

I *cannot* work more hours at TB doing front counter. I *have to* do something else.

Temporarily fired/quit from McD, but I will try to reapply when Hills Plaza reopens

April 18, 2014

7:16 PM 4/18/2014

So I had an incident yesterday that resulted in my quitting/being fired from McD. However, I don’t view this as permanent, although if it is permanent, that will be regrettable but not the end of the world. I will try to get my job back.

I’m finding that I don’t really want to talk about it, actually. I’m only writing quickly while waiting for a bus because I have nothing else to do. Maybe I will explain in more detail later on.

The upside of this is that I have been visited by Jesse and hope to continue seeing him as often as possible.

I will be only working two nights a week, at TB, for now, and I will try to get other stuff done. Mostly, I need to bring my stuff down from the tent, because it’s all still sitting up there. I have been fatigued and unable to motivate myself, and also, it has still been cold outside. I’ve noticed in the past few years that I am almost completely nonfunctional until the month of May, and that happens to be the month when the official farmer’s almanac or whatever it is says that there is no more frost danger for this region.

I had been planning to take a leave of absence from McD anyway and had just put in my request, but it hadn’t been scheduled yet, because it takes a couple weeks before a request can be scheduled. I just could not wait any longer. I could not force myself to go to work in spite of absolutely hating it.

I won’t go into detail right now about the people-related problems and manager problems that I was having at the Nittany Mall – several other coworkers have had the same problems, and I’ve been talking to them all about it.

My one concern is that perhaps the new Hills Plaza store, after it’s rebuilt, might possibly be similar to the Nittany Mall store in a way which I am not sure is actually happening, but might be happening: ‘sick building syndrome’ or ‘environmental illness’ caused by sound.

At Nittany Mall McD, when I was working at front counter, there seemed to be either 1. a bright light which was at a harmful frequency, or 2. a very high pitched noise that was hurting my ears and making it physically painful to stand there, or 3. I was being attacked constantly by radio frequency weapons while I was standing there. Standing there at the cash register, which is what I had to do for hours, without being allowed to walk around and clean the lobby or leave my position at all, was intolerably boring, and there was this mysterious and inexplicable thing in the environment which was causing unbearable pain, torture, so that I could not stand to be there. My coworker also used the word ‘torture’ when she described standing there at front counter for hours doing nothing.

So in addition to the interpersonal, manager, and work related problems, I am wondering if there was a noise/light pollution problem, or an electromagnetic problem, or if we were being attacked. I don’t know. It just made it unbearably painful to stand there, so that all of the skin on my entire body burned. I also felt painfully cold and was unable to get warm. The air was always just a tiny bit too cold for me, just a few degrees below the amount that I needed to function, so that I was constantly in pain. And I could not move around and do things, and I wasn’t working in the kitchen where the air is always hot enough year round.

If it was indeed an environmental problem in the building itself, and *not* an external attack with radio frequencies or whatever, then that worries me. It might be in the design of the new buildings. All the new buildings might be designed in such a way that they cause this coldness and pain to the workers. The building is being totally rebuilt from scratch with a new ‘modern’ design, and all of the customers have complained that they absolutely hate the new design, but McD doesn’t give a fuck about what the REAL PEOPLE say they hate. Gathering information and feedback from real people who buy their food is, obviously, not important to them. All of them hate the new design, but McD has gone ahead and forced it on all of them anyway.

It could be something in the lighting or the colors. The lights will all be, probably, compact fluorescent bulbs. They will have a wifi, and maybe I was standing directly underneath the source of the wifi. They will have some kind of fans and ventilation, and I seem to remember a high pitched noise which was just at the frequency of fingernails on a chalkboard, constantly, while I was there. It caused constant pain in my whole body, which was made much worse by the low temperature.

I can’t explain all of this. I only hope that our new store at Hills is not like this. And, unfortunately, I suspect that it will be. It will be a continuing part of the trend of McD not giving a fuck about what customers what, about how the computer system works, or about whether people are comfortable in their stores.

Combing my monster dreadlock out

April 17, 2014

0417141438-00I won’t take the time to change all the image attributes to make this picture findable by Google, but it always bothers me when I see that the title is some gibberish number instead of a descriptive title.  A., I don’t have time right now, and B., I’m not deliberately trying to make my blog more findable right now.  I don’t get paid for those ads at the bottom – they come from WordPress.  WordPress gets paid for them.  In the future, yes, I want to do something that earns money and/or gets lots of views on the internet, but not right now.

Anyway, this is the lock that I’m working on.  I don’t have a before picture that shows the lock up close so that you can see the texture.  It’s very hard to take a picture of my own hair, and again, I don’t have much time since I’m about to go to work.  This picture shows how the end of the lock is partially combed out, but the top of the lock is still locked.  You can see how stiff the lock is – I’m just holding it between two fingers, and it sticks straight out and doesn’t bend.  It’s a very thick lock, and the worst one on my head.

The lock has an inner core and an outer layer wrapped over the inner core, and they are somehow separate from each other.  That’s because the (damn it, I just hit some key combination that highlighted and erased a couple sentences, grr, and then I hit ctrl-x instead of ctrl-z and made it worse).  That’s because the inner core formed when the grease made the hair stick together into thin strands, and then the outer layers came from individual loose short hairs wrapping around that inner core, lying on top of each other, overlapping, and crisscrossing, so that they tangled enough to stay in place.  I’ve had my locks since January 2009, and this is April 2014 – five years.

Actually, I will probably want to let my hair lock up again, but this time, if I did that, I would experiment with just not wetting my hair at all in the shower.  That’s if I did let it lock.  I would do a couple things differently in the experiment.  I haven’t decided if I will just let it lock again, or what, after combing all the locks out – assuming I decide to continue.  It makes little or no noticeable difference that I just combed out the very end of this monster lock.

Hair ball combed out

April 16, 2014

Yes, this is newsworthy. It took a ridiculously long time, and I won’t say how long, because people will think I’m insane. I combed out the big ball at the end of the monster dreadlock. Now that the big ball loopy thing is gone, it’s suddenly easy and quick and can be combed out in just a short time. However, I’m taking a break and I won’t finish it tonight. No other locks will be as bad as that one. That was the worst one on my entire head, and I started with that one so that the others would seem easier. The others will go very quickly and I will suddenly have straight hair in a relatively short time. I’ll take a picture soon while I still have locks. It will be several weeks of combing. It won’t happen overnight. But that’s much better than shaving the locks off and losing a decade’s worth of long hair. My long hair is still long and intact, as I can see after combing the end of this monster lock.

Maybe I’ve had the Porcine Epidemic Diarrhea Virus

April 16, 2014

Unlike baby piglets, I’m not dead – it kills newborn pigs. It doesn’t kill larger animals. It’s extremely contagious and thrives in cold weather. It’s been around since May of 2013 in the United States. It’s all over the place now, all over the country. ‘Thrives in cold weather’ was one of the key phrases that gave me the idea – I was getting sick every single time the temperature dropped outside, every time the cold wind blew in my face when I was working the drive-thru at TB or McD. I had a little bit of diarrhea, but not much, and it certainly wasn’t enough to dehydrate me, but even so, I had many signs of illness just going on for months and months, the entire winter basically, at least since the beginning of February, and nonstop through the entire month of February and March and even in the beginning of April. Now that it’s getting warm, I’m starting to feel slightly better, but I get bad again on cold days, reliably. It’s like the virus didn’t go away, my body didn’t fight it off, and it’s still inside me.

I just happened to read about this virus – one click led to another – I was reading about food price inflation, and this virus has killed enough pigs to reduce the supply of pork and raise the prices.

Warning: extremely long post, talking about my love of material possessions

April 15, 2014

This is just a long rambling story. I’m drinking coffee and resting, and feel like looking back on the past. I don’t feel like getting up and moving around. That’s why I write so much.

Warning: It turned out that the previous warning was inadequate to describe just how horribly long and obsessive this blog turned out to be. I thought it might turn out to be just a little bit long, but no, I wrote for hours and hours and hours, and it might just take that long to read it.

11:43 AM 4/15/2014

It is much later in the morning than I thought it was. One roommate usually leaves at 10:30 AM, and I never heard her leaving this morning, so I didn’t know it was past 10:30.

I am frustrated by not getting things done. I have a long to-do list and some of it is urgent (finish taxes). I got my federal tax done, because that one gives me a refund, but I didn’t do my state or local taxes yet.

I put szechuan pepper / prickly ash powder into my cup of coffee for no apparent reason this morning. I’m not afraid of it anymore. I’m used to it. I’ve eaten it in several meals now. It doesn’t give me any weird side effects that I cannot tolerate, just the numbing of the tongue. ‘Numbing’ isn’t the right word – the triggering of a specific nerve receptor that detects menthol and other substances from spices.

My coffee is made with bottled water. I had bottled water, I just didn’t have enough of it to make an entire crock pot of
Nothing-But-Chicken Soup.

I’m afraid to say, ‘Soon, things will be settled.’ I definitely require things to be settled in order for me to function. It’s hard for me to admit this. I am fighting a battle against the voices in my head, somebody who wants me to believe in, or, perhaps, wants me to discuss, the idea that material belongings are unimportant and unnecessary and harmful, and that we shouldn’t want material things, shouldn’t care about material things, shouldn’t value material things, shouldn’t keep buying appliances.

It came from a long history of traumatic incidents. I have been attacked and harassed for years by these people, and I suspect that they are the reason why my favorite ‘perfect’ belongings kept getting damaged or destroyed in ‘random’ accidents. Other ‘targeted individuals’ have described similar patterns.

I would buy something I really liked, and I would be pleased by its perfection, some appliance or tool that made me feel like I had progress in my life. I was an adult, I had moved out of my parents’ house, and now it was time to buy my own appliances and things.

I remember, one of the first things I bought was my blue recliner. I bought that so I could establish a credit history. I bought it from a store called Heilig Myers, which no longer exists in this town, although I don’t know if it’s still open anywhere else. They were willing to let me buy the recliner and then pay it off over a period of months, without having a credit record first.

This Szechuan pepper coffee isn’t that bad, it’s just kind of weird. The pepper just floats on the top, and I can avoid drinking the pepper if I don’t want any more. Coffee and chocolate are the only drugs I allow myself at this time, and ginger, and ibuprofen. I want to quit the coffee before pregnancy. Not ‘I want to,’ but, ‘I absolutely will.’ Preparing for pregnancy is my primary purpose in life right now, and I have several tasks to do. One of the tasks is, get on a good diet, and the other task is to remove my dental fillings, or do the best I can to try to remove them. They are constantly leaching plastic, and I have symptoms caused by the fillings, and if I am able to feel any symptoms at all, then the BPA levels are high enough to affect my baby too.

Anyway, I bought the blue recliner. I loved it. One reason why I bought a recliner was because I didn’t know I was being attacked. I had no explanation for what happened. When I first came here to State College, PA, in 1997, and stayed in my brother’s apartment, there was an incident where I sat in somebody’s recliner – I guess my brother might have had on in his room, I don’t remember where it was – and I meditated. I had been reading about meditation for many years, and had attempted to do it, but could not really focus well. I had also tried to hypnotize myself, but could not do it. But one day, shortly after moving here, I sat in that recliner, and suddenly I was able to meditate, with perfect focus, in absolute silence. It was the most wonderful, sweet, peaceful experience that I had had in years.

I didn’t know I was being attacked, but I was already being attacked when I was in college, which is probably the reason why I couldn’t study, couldn’t do my homework, and dropped out of college. Now that I know I’m being attacked, I can remember things that used to happen in college that were symptoms of the attacks, but I thought I was just having unexplained medical problems – for instance, I remember an incident where I was trying to read a sociology book, for my class, and I was interrupted after reading almost every sentence, with sharp painful clenches in my stomach. I would start to focus my mind, and then all of a sudden there would be another stomach clench. Who knows, I guess it could have been parasites, but my memory of it makes it seem more like an attack. They buzz the air bubbles in my stomach, nowadays, and it seems more like that’s what they were doing back then. I remember I was reading about Marxism, and I was trying to reconcile Marxism with Ayn Rand’s Objectivism, because I had read and loved her books, so I was doing a lot of mental debating and mental processing, or trying to, if I weren’t being attacked.

I also had ADHD, and I was eating bad foods back then, things that I know for sure I react to, so my mind was wild and I was restless and couldn’t focus well anyway, but the attacks still seem to be part of what was making it so difficult, in hindsight.

When I moved to State College, and I sat in (someone else’s) recliner and meditated, for some reason that day I had peace and quiet in my mind. I didn’t know I was being constantly tortured and attacked. But I know now that sometimes when I travel or move to another town, it takes a short time – ranging from hours to a couple days – for the stalkers to ‘set up’ and start attacking me in full force. It definitely changes when I travel or move. I think that’s what happened. I sat in this recliner and meditated during that in-between moment when the attacks had not yet completely started up. I couldn’t explain why all of a sudden my mind was full of sweet, restful peace and silence when I meditated. I thought it was just because I was sitting in a wonderful, comfortable chair.

So when I bought my blue recliner, that’s what I expected. I thought there was something magical about this comfy chair that would help me meditate. I had to buy something at Heilig Myers, and it didn’t really matter what I bought, just something to give me a credit history, but I thought the recliner would help me rest and think and meditate – I thought it would bring back that wonderful, peaceful experience I had had while meditating in the other recliner that one day.

I got this blue recliner, and over a few months, I paid it off. I was so proud. I had a credit record now, and it was perfect. I had shown the world that I was a responsible adult and I was able to pay my bills. I could be trusted. Now I could buy other expensive things.

I also had a bike. If I think hard, I can remember what brand it was – I think it was just a Schwinn, and I can’t recall the exact name of the type of bike – for some reason, the word ‘Forester’ is being put into my head every time I try to remember, but that’s not it. It was blue, and it was a mountain bike, with treads on the tires. Buying my own bike was also a wonderful new experience. I had a bike when I was younger, and I had a bigger bike when I was a teenager. I didn’t choose the bike I had when I was a kid, or, I don’t remember choosing it. I did choose the one I got as a teenager. It was, God forbid, pink and purple. (I’m a pink-hater, now, but apparently I didn’t mind it so much back then.) This was a road bike, with narrow tires that had no tread. I had always envied the boys riding their dirt bikes, with treads on the tires, and so when I finally bought this blue mountain bike with treaded tires, I loved it. I could drive off the edge of the sidewalk into the grass and not slip. I could ride over bumpy dirt. The bike was tough, and it was mine, and I chose it.

But both the bike and the recliner were doomed to be quickly damaged not long after I bought them. Both of them were perfect, and I loved them in the way that I loved all my tools.

I used to buy perfect crayons, too, for painting. I had these aquarelle crayons where you use a paintbrush and dip it in water and you paint over the crayon strokes to spread the colors, and it had a look and texture that was unique, something different from pastels and different from watercolor, but a little bit like both. I would just look at the box of aquarelle crayons, with pleasure, and just bask in their perfection. I loved my tools. Sometimes I would go out and buy more paints or crayons even if I didn’t really need them, just to try something new, just to open up a new perfect thing and look at it. I mean, I didn’t do this to excess, I didn’t have a hundred perfect unused boxes of aquarelle crayons, but I had maybe two or three boxes open, with different brand names, if I recall. I don’t remember the story behind how I got all those or why.

I haven’t painted in years. Art was one of the first things to go when I became an adult, and started spending all my free time working at a slave job, and drinking tons of coffee. My brain has to be fully rested and peaceful in order for me to do any art. I cannot be overcaffeinated and exhausted and stressed and I cannot be thinking to myself that I have a million things to do in my extremely limited free time, if I am to do any art. Not only that, but nowadays, as a mind control slave, I don’t have enough mental freedom to draw anything without being controlled and restricted. I tried to use the book ‘Drawing On The Right Side Of The Brain’ to help me make progress in my art, but I remember the ‘being unable to focus’ phenomenon, and in hindsight I know I was being attacked.

I don’t remember which one was damaged first, the recliner or the bike. The recliner got damaged in a random accident when my ex-boyfriend (no, I’m not mad at you for this, I’m just telling the story, if you’re out there) was vacuuming. I was living with him at the time, and he moved the recliner aside to vacuum, and it broke one of the wooden supports inside the recliner.

Actually, the bike was the first to be damaged. Now I remember. I lived in an apartment with four other people, on Whitehall Road. One of their cats was a weirdo. What was his name – Dandelion or something? Or maybe his name was Daniel, and I called him Dandelion. I forget. He was a weirdo. He would chew on things that weren’t meant to be eaten. This is understandable, because cats are not meant to eat cat food. Cats are meant to eat raw organ meats. Not muscle meat. According to my mom, the cats like to eat shrews, and they will eat ‘everything except the green thing.’ There’s some kind of green squiggly organ that they won’t eat. I haven’t seen it, so I don’t know which organ it is. Apparently they kill shrews and then leave behind just this one thing, and Mom discovers one lying around once in a while.

But this cat Daniel had something which would be called ‘pica’ if it occurred in humans, the habit of eating non-edible substances and objects, due to a nutrient deficiency. He was not really a friendly, loving cat, more of an intellectual autistic sort of cat. I didn’t like him as much as I loved Henri, the loving and sweet one who wanted to be petted for hours.

Daniel would eat my wax earplugs. I had these pink wax earplugs with cotton inside the wax, back then. I hadn’t yet discovered the expanding foam earplugs that I use now, which work better for me. The wax earplugs would fall out of my ears during the night, or I would pull them out and not remember that I did it, and I would wake up with no earplugs in, and the earplugs would be lying beside me. Then Daniel would come along and pick up an earplug in his mouth and chew it and swallow it. I saw him do this several times. The roommate told me that he would also eat gum, as in, bubble gum and chewing gum, and he would swallow it.

Daniel decided that the rubber handlegrips of my brand new bike smelled good, and so he climbed up on the couch that my bike was parked next to (when it was indoors), and started chewing on the ends of the handgrips. He chewed the rubber all to pieces. The bike was brand new.

So the wooden support inside my recliner, and the rubber handgrips of my bike, were damaged when these things were brand new. I thought both of these things were random accidents. In hindsight, I think they were not. People and animals can both be forced to get an idea to do something. I think my ex-boyfriend might have been given a forced urge to yank the recliner too hard, when he moved it, and the cat was given the urge to go and rip up the rubber handgrips on the bike. Maybe, maybe not. But it started a long pattern of ‘I buy some expensive new tool, and it’s perfect, and I love its perfection, and then it immediately gets damaged right after I buy it.’

I bought a computer. It was a perfect, new computer, a PC from Dell. I paid it off, and was once again pleased and satisfied with my new tool, and pleased with myself for achieving a perfect credit record. I don’t want to retell all the details of this story, but basically, I didn’t have the computer too long before I started noticing computer hacking and harassment going on.

I formatted my hard drive several times, believing that it had merely ‘caught a virus’ which I had to erase. I would have a clean, fresh install of my operating system (Windows 98), and the very instant I got on the internet, I would have hacking incidents, things like ‘the certificate has expired,’ etc, on web pages. I tried to do everything I could do to prevent these things from happening, but they kept happening. It was as if there was some trojan waiting on the internet server that automatically attacked every single computer that ever got on the server, regardless of who they were (and nowadays, we’ve heard that the NSA is doing this kind of thing).

I was doing a fresh install one time, thinking to myself that as long as I didn’t connect to the internet, nothing would get on the computer. Wrong. I was disconnected from the net, physically disconnected, no cable of any kind plugged into the computer, and a weird incident happened immediately after my install. Now that I know about radio frequency weapons, I know that it’s possible to manipulate a computer that isn’t connected to the internet at all, the same way that they use radio frequency weapons to manipulate people’s brains and bodies without any connection to anything, and without any kind of ‘implants’ or anything.

(Some people on the internet still believe that implants are needed for mind control, but they are not, and if you are being controlled, do not assume you have an implant! This is a dangerous belief, because when people are scared and angry and helpless, they might do things like cut themselves and injure themselves trying to remove an implant that isn’t there. People need to know that implants are NOT necessary to control people or to follow them everywhere they go. Sure, if you had an implant, you would want to remove it, and I would too, but people shouldn’t assume they have an implant unless they actually have some reason to believe they have one. A ‘reason’ might be something like, ‘I was a member of the military, and one time, the military did this experiment on all the soldiers, and they put us all to sleep, and we woke up with this bandage over a cut, and I felt like something was in there, and then I started having these symptoms.’ By my observations, from reading stories on the net, people who really do discover that they have implants are usually members of the military or members of government who were involved in experiments and knew that they were being experimented on. Yet another reason not to join the military! The government LOVES to do evil experiments on soldiers.)

That was the first time when I began to suspect that things were being done to my computer remotely, even when it wasn’t connected to the internet. I also saw hacking incidents on my other computer, a laptop, which I had bought deliberately without any kind of wireless modem in it. It had no antennae or anything. I specifically bought this so that it could not be hacked into remotely. I believed that if I had a wireless antenna in there, somebody could hack into it using the antenna even if I wasn’t connected to the net.

It turned out that antennas weren’t necessary – they just hack the electronic components in the computer with radio frequency weapons, or maybe, perhaps, the NSA is cooperating with computer manufacturers to install remote controlling devices into every single computer produced and sold to ordinary people – and I wouldn’t put it past them – in fact, I read something that was similar to that, which is what gave me the idea. If I recall, the NSA installs *software* in every single computer before it’s sold. If they also put hardware in there, it would be some device that received radio frequencies, something that the user could not access, could not ‘format and reinstall,’ something outside the operating system, and they would assume that most users are not knowledgeable enough to know what this thing is if they take apart their computer and examine all the things inside.

(I tried to do that with my laptop after the hacking incidents began. I unscrewed the screws, opened up the case, and looked inside, hunting for some kind of wireless antenna, but couldn’t see anything that looked like one. However, antennas don’t look like antennas anymore, which I would not have known. Antennas can be, for example, just a little oddly shaped group of metal lines on the motherboard, or something. You’d have to know what to look for – I saw a picture of a modern cell phone antenna, and the article I read was explaining why they don’t look like old-fashioned extendable phone antennas anymore.)

When I bought my red Honda Civic, nothing happened to that car right away, because it was a used car from 1996, so it wasn’t ‘perfect,’ and I didn’t have that ‘feeling of perfection’ associated with it. I had a problem with the hand brake sticking or not working properly, but I got that fixed. But if I bought a brand new car, I would have consulted Consumer Reports, just like my dad used to do, and I would have bought the best thing that they recommended, so that my car would be perfect from the first moment that I bought it. Nowadays, even Hondas and Toyotas are unreliable from the beginning. Toyota used to have a perfect reputation with Consumer Reports, and they were consistently recommended and given good reviews.

But then Toyota’s quality changed, and we started having incidents, like the thing where (I forget exactly what) either brakes were failing, or the accelerator got stuck on, or something – I forget which car manufacturer that was – there was some incident with Toyota which was severe enough that it became a big scandal and they had to issue a recall. I have a bad memory, and I would have to look it up again. In the past, Toyota would *never* have allowed any cars to be sold if they had any quality problems at all, but that changed, and they started selling cars of uncertain quality.

With something as dangerous as a car, you can’t just throw it out there and hope it works. You have to be absolutely certain that it works perfectly, and people’s lives depend on it, and they trust you, because you have a good reputation in the past – and then all of a sudden, the quality changes, but the brand name is still the same. You’re not who you used to be. You’re not Toyota anymore. If the cars are not perfect quality from day one, it’s not Toyota – yet they’re legally allowed to keep the same name. I think this happens when companies are sold to new owners, and if I recall, Toyota did actually change owners.

I’m still in the middle of telling a long story. I’m in that mind state where I’m too tired to get up and do anything physical, but my mind is awake and I feel like writing. This could go on for hours.

I won’t retell the whole contamination story. I will summarize it. I was growing medicinal herbs, growing them in flower pots. I grew St. John’s Wort first, because when I bought pills at the store, they were inconsistent. As any marijuana buyer will know, you get different effects with every batch, with every different breed of plant, and even with the same breed bought at a different time of year, and with different methods of processing and handling and storage. It’s complicated. The chemical constituents of the plant are very variable. So I would buy St. John’s Wort pills, but sometimes they wouldn’t work. It would do things that I didn’t want it to do, like make me sleep all the time, without giving me this one particular feeling that I was seeking. I would only get that feeling
occasionally from the SJW. So I wanted to start growing my own plants and figuring out how to get that particular feeling and not the unwanted side effects.

Then I became interested in growing many other medicinal herbs. And I said I wasn’t going to retell this whole story. So…. I bought ephedra seeds. I’m skipping the explanation of why. I needed a stimulant drug. I was exhausted, partly from the sleepiness induced by the SJW. I wanted to work more hours and earn more money and break free of the slave job lifestyle.

But the ephedra seeds were covered in transdermally absorbed ephedrine, just on the seeds themselves, not even on the plant yet. I never grew the plants. The seeds never sprouted. I merely handled the envelope containing the seeds, when it arrived in the mail, and I set that envelope down on the floor, on the carpet, because I had a pile of papers and junk and mail there. That contaminated envelope left a spot of ephedrine on the carpet. I handled the seeds while attempting to plant them in the potting soil.

After a minute or so, or maybe five minutes, I suddenly had a severe and terrifying reaction to the transdermal ephedrine on the seeds. I was in the kitchen. I had some lights on. Maybe it was the plant growing lights. Suddenly, all the lights seemed too bright. Ephedrine is mydriatic – it dilates the pupils. My pupils must have suddenly dilated, because all the lights suddenly became intolerably bright. I had this feeling of unbearable supernatural terror, a horrible and intolerable feeling, and the whole world was changing, and everything was wrong.

The feeling of fear and panic increased, and got worse, and worse, and worse, and worse and worse and worse. It didn’t stop. The terror kept increasing. I had never experienced anything like it.

I realized what had happened. I decided I was never going to do anything with ephedra ever again. I decided to throw everything into the trash that very instant. So I started throwing away all the seeds and pots.

The next day, I touched the trash can lid in the kitchen. I began to have the same reaction again. I tried washing off the trash can lid. I touched it again later, and had the same reaction. So I threw away the whole trash can.

I began throwing away everything that had been near the ephedra, everything that had touched it, everything that I had touched with my hands afterwards. The voices in my head knew what was going on. They had been giving me ominous warnings before this happened – they had told me that the ephedra was ‘a stick of lit dynamite.’ It was compared to an explosion. I had brought a stick of lit dynamite into the house and it exploded and destroyed everything I owned.

Before I had even touched the seeds, I’d had an incident, but didn’t know what happened. I had merely touched the envelope. Afterwards, I called off sick from work that night, unable to explain, merely that I was having some kind of weird panic attack and could not fall asleep. Every time I touched any object that had touched ephedra directly or indirectly, I would become totally and completely unable to sleep until the ephedra was washed off my skin. It was the worst insomnia that I had ever had and hopefully the worst I will ever have again in the future – in other words, it never happens again.

After I touched the seeds directly, the attacks were even worse than the incident after I touched the envelope. But I was able to throw away everything that had been associated with the seeds. I thought it was over. I thought it was going to be okay.

My little battery-powered grandfather clock had a problem. I forget what happened – maybe it was sticking. That sometimes happened – the hands would stick and not move. I took it down off the table and I put it on the carpet near where I had once set the envelope containing the ephedra seeds. I picked up the clock again and had an ephedra reaction. That’s when I figured out that the carpet was contaminated.

So I tried to shampoo the carpet. That failed. It spread the ephedra all over the entire carpet, so that I reacted anytime my feet touched the ground. I covered the carpet with cardboard, and began
systematically throwing away any objects that touched anything contaminated. It destroyed my entire life and followed me everywhere for years. This began in 2007. The year is now 2014, and I still have ephedra on my shoes, because when I went camping, an incident occurred which led to the ephedra getting onto the soil at my campsite. That is why I have ephedra even now. It’s much, much more diluted, and much milder, but even so, it causes persistent, intractable insomnia if I touch it directly. Nothing fixes the insomnia until and unless the ephedra is washed off the contaminated body part, and even then it takes a little while for the body to calm down. You feel a sense of relief very quickly though after washing.

I promised I wasn’t going to retell the whole story again, but there I went and did it. Nothing can stop me, and it’s now 1:27 PM. I cannot not tell a story.

I had to go reread to remember what was my point. The point was, after that, I was afraid to value any of my belongings. I protected a few items from the ephedra by wrapping them in plastic, and
eventually, by taking them away and putting them in storage at my parents’ house. I did manage to save a few favorite items, small things, like this beautiful colorful beach towel I had bought years ago, which I used as a thin blanket when I sat in the recliner, and this little stone game where you have marbles made of semiprecious stones, on a jade base, and you jump the stones over each other until they are all gone. I protected a few of my beautiful perfect things.

The voices knew what would happen before it happened. They knew about ephedrine contamination before I did. They were giving me ominous warnings. I therefore suspect that they forced me to do what I did. I don’t know for sure. I suspect that they wanted to ‘teach me a lesson,’ and the lesson probably was something like, ‘Material belongings are bad. Valuing your possessions is the root of all evil.’ There really is actually a belief in something like Buddhism, where they say that attachment is the cause of suffering.

In some ways I agree, but not completely, and I never will completely embrace that belief, that way of seeing things. I suspect that this is programmed into my entire personality, my socionic personality type, to value ‘perfect tools’ and ‘quality.’ I don’t want to go out and buy a million dollars worth of junk just to show it off to people and prove that I’m rich and I’m big and important. Instead, I want to buy high-quality perfect things that work perfectly, things that are reliable and beautiful in some way to me. The little stone solitaire game wasn’t a ‘tool,’ but the stones were beautiful and perfect to me. I actually won the game once, by myself, and forget how I did it. If you follow the same pattern you can win the game again. I refused to look up the pattern on the internet. I tried to figure it out myself, but failed. Maybe nowadays I would be able to figure it out again. But the game is at my parents’ house in storage, and I will leave it there.

I want to go back to the way I used to feel, of valuing my material possessions. I am afraid to. I still have ephedra. So I am going to be extremely cautious. That’s why I was reluctant to buy this little refrigerator.

However, I actually have a very, very good reason to have a separate fridge, which ‘they’ pointed out to me after I bought it. The bone marrow incident. At one of my previous apartments, I tried to cook bone marrow in another crock pot, not this same one that I used yesterday. I had been reading Weston Price and reading websites of the Weston Price devotees, many of whom talk about eating bone marrow. I’ve spoken to a couple of non-sociopathic, nice, decent human beings in the real world, who also told me that they themselves had eaten bone marrow and enjoyed it. So, the idea of eating bone marrow is not just a lie made up by trolls on the internet, sadistic people who want to laugh at the suffering of the fools who try to do it. It isn’t just a complete and total lie – eating bone marrow is real, and real people can do it.

However, when *I* tried to do it… And I cannot not tell a story. Can I make the story shorter than three pages? Shorter than one paragraph? I ate a tiny piece of raw marrow before I cooked it, and it instantly gave me a very unpleasant feeling, as though it had greatly raised my blood pressure and given me a lot of restless, uncomfortable energy, along with fear and adrenalin, and the urge to vomit. I didn’t vomit. I then cooked the bone marrow, hoping that cooking it would fix this problem, but it didn’t. After I cooked it, merely inhaling the vapors from the steam caused me to nearly vomit, and have a panic attack, and be flooded with adrenaline, and again, it was intolerable and extremely unpleasant. I put the crock put full of cooked bone marrow into the fridge. After that, the vapors filled the fridge and condensed on the walls of the fridge and floated around in the air. If I put any open containers of liquid, such as an unfinished drink, into the fridge, bone marrow particles would land in it, causing me to have a vomit urge triggered when I drank the drink. Even just a couple particles would trigger the vomit urge. Since I have a vomit phobia, this was terrible for me. Every day, every time I ate, every time I walked into the apartment, there was the feeling of unbearable terror.

It wasn’t just terror. It was death, the sensation of death. I had to make a theory to explain this. My theory is that bone marrow contains hormones that are meant to control the body if you are severely injured in a terrible accident or injured by a predator, such as a lion. Your body reacts to this severe injury by flooding you with adrenaline so that you can run away. It also causes vomiting and blacking out, both of which will happen in an accident. And it causes a unique physical sensation which is horrible and indescribable, the sensation of bodily trauma, the sensation of death. I felt as though I was the cow who had been slaughtered, the cow that the bones came from. I felt empathy with the cow. I felt like I myself was dying, that moment. It is a hormone in the marrow that causes this, I’m sure, and it’s meant to be a normal thing that happens during a severe injury. Marrow is where blood comes from. When people describe a fear that ‘chills them to the marrow,’ this is a literal description, not a fanciful description. You literally have something which comes out of your bone marrow, during fear, during an attack, when you need adrenaline, when you need more blood in your body, when you’ve been injured or you might possibly be about to get injured by an attack or an accident. When you eat bone marrow, you eat tons and tons of this hormone – that is my theory.

Why are some people able to eat bone marrow without vomiting? I don’t know. I researched it on the net. People talk about how they gave soup bones to their dogs, and the dogs would vomit afterwards. Their theory was nonsense – the marrow was ‘too rich,’ people would say, as though ‘rich’ food makes you vomit. I can eat plenty of ‘rich’ food without vomiting – I can eat fats and oils, and I don’t vomit from them.

Marrow is different. It contains an unknown substance that directly triggers the vomit reflex in the nerves and in the stomach. It is like a drug. The ‘it’s too rich for them and they’re not used to it, so they vomit’ theory is garbage. But I have chemical sensitivity, and small quantities of chemicals, drugs, and hormones affect me very strongly, and my body can’t metabolize them quickly enough. Other people can tolerate huge doses of drugs and not feel a thing, because their genes have multiple copies of the code for the enzymes. People who are slow metabolizers will have fewer copies, or only one copy, or perhaps none at all, of the DNA codes for the enzymes to metabolize particular chemicals.

So this is one very, very good reason for me to have my own
refrigerator. I will be trying new foods, new meats, and I want to defeat the bone marrow. I want to win the battle against it. I want to try again. I want to figure out how to prepare bone marrow so it becomes nontoxic and edible. I want to do what other people claim they have done. But not just yet, not today. Another thing that I want to eat in the future is kidneys, and my mom told me that she once tried to cook beef kidneys, and it filled the entire house with the stench of urine, which lasted for weeks. So I will try not to do that. I’d cook it outdoors if I could – I’ll need an extension cord for the crock pot. And I’ll need to do it when it’s not raining (because the crock pot is electrical). And I’ll put any weird meats and weird toxic smelly foods into MY fridge instead of the house fridge. That is a legitimate reason to have my own fridge.

All of this is the reason why I am extremely cautious and extremely reluctant to buy material objects. In truth, I *love* material objects, perhaps even more than the average person does. I love my belongings. I bond with them and feel like they are part of myself. The ISTP/SLI personality type is often described as ‘The tool becomes an extension of the body, and the person merges with the tool.’ This personailty type likes to drive vehicles at high speed around the racetrack, and that kind of thing, and play video games with expertise. But for me, it’s more than just that. My belongings have their own life, their own feelings. When I was child, I thought my toys had feelings, and I could not bear to throw them away or damage them. I used to keep toothbrushes. If somebody gave me a fresh toothbrush when I went to the dentist, I would put the old toothbrush in a pile of toothbrushes in the cabinet under the sink, and refused to throw it away, because the toothbrush was sad and lonely when it was in the garbage can.

I had to overcome all of this when the ephedra destroyed all my stuff, and I had to throw it all away. It broke my heart. It was
unbearable. I had to remind myself over and over again that the reason I was throwing away all my belongings was to protect my future children. My children mattered more than the imaginary feelings attached to my physical belongings. The children’s feelings were more real and intense than those of the inanimate objects. Yes, I still do think that inanimate objects have feelings, but I always put it into perspective by thinking of my imaginary future children and loved ones instead. The ephedra-covered object in the dumpster looks sad and lonely and rejected, but my future children are happy, clean, peaceful, safe, relaxed, and healthy, the way they should be. In that perspective, material belongings do not matter – children matter. People matter. Loved ones matter. Living creatures matter.

I think a hunter makes the same kind of sacrifice when they kill an animal. Hunters talk about how they feel pain when they kill an animal. They feel sadness and pain and regret and guilt. But a hunter is feeding his family (I do not approve of trophy hunting!), and the family is healthy because they eat meat. We are predatory animals, and our bodies are designed to eat some meat, and we benefit greatly from it, especially in situations where food cannot be transported long distances, and food must be produced locally, all winter long, without electricity – meats and fats are the only thing that can give us enough calories and enough nutrition. This is most obvious in the Arctic, but even in places farther south from the Arctic, anyplace that has winter, meat eating is very helpful.

Eating fresh plants all winter long requires transportation and refrigeration. We import fresh fruits from the southern hemisphere in the winter. If you are interested in reducing the use of gasoline and fossil fuels, then you are interested in finding ways to eat local foods that don’t get transported long distances. Try finding fresh local produce in the middle of winter in a cold region, and you will have to get it from a heated greenhouse with artificial lighting, which makes the produce scarce and expensive.

You need produce that can be stored underground the old fashioned way, like turnips and potatoes and root vegetables and fermented cabbage, if you want to avoid refrigeration and if you want vegetables available all winter long. We did it before refrigerators were invented. We did it before we had highways and before we had planes and trains and trucks. And nomadic hunter-gatherers had alternative foods that are difficult and unpleasant to eat, but nevertheless provide nutrition, such as the inner lining of tree bark, which still exists in the winter.

I am definitely on a storytelling tangent today. I had to go back and look to see what point I was making: the ‘hunters make the same sacrifice’ concept. I believe it is normal and healthy to kill animals for food, and that we should not aim to be morally perfect by refusing to eat meats. This is especially true when I observe that plants have feelings too. I had already thought that inanimate objects have feelings, but I definitely believe plants have feelings. We just can’t observe their feelings easily.

But the one time when I chopped down a tree that I thought was dead, it wasn’t completely dead, and I felt its pain – really, literally felt like I myself was empathizing with the tree. It was feeling of ‘wrongness,’ a feeling of horrible trauma, a feeling of going one direction and being unable to go back, a feeling that something had changed so severely that it could not be repaired or undone, a feeling of regret and horrible loss, a feeling of inevitable death. It was a feeling that something had changed so badly, and it wished it could go back, but it could never go back – it was the sense of ‘never,’ ‘never again,’ ‘impossible to heal.’ It is an *extremely* unpleasant and uncomfortable feeling. I can’t even describe it in words – my words are inadequate to describe just how horrible this feeling is. This was not just some concept in my brain. It was not just an imaginary abstraction. It was a literal, concrete, physical sensation.

It was either a substance released into the air as vapor, which I inhaled, or else it was an electromagnetic field that was disturbed when I cut down the tree, and I could feel that electromagnetic field being changed and distorted and broken. I don’t know which it was. Maybe both, chemical and electrical feelings. But after doing that, I knew for certain that plants had feelings. And I felt the same thing when I cut into an old grapevine in the woods. The grapevine had other connections to the ground, so I didn’t kill it completely, but I cut off a part of it and damaged the plant badly, and I felt that same sensation – chemical and electrical empathy with the plant. If plants have feelings, then how can vegetarians be ethical? How come it’s okay to kill a plant that has feelings? I’m not making a joke, I’m not just making a point for the sake of argument, and I’m not just being theoretical or hypothetical. I am claiming that plants literally have feelings, and I am claiming that I myself have experienced empathy after killing old, woody plants, like trees and vines, which live for many years and have a ‘memory.’

I am *horrified* when I see photographs of loggers, a century ago, chopping down gigantic trees that are fifteen feet in diameter and proudly standing next to this enormous fallen tree that was hundreds of years old. How could they? How could they not feel this? How could they not know? How could they not understand that this was a gigantic, old, respectable, living creature with feelings and memories going back hundreds of years? How could they be so proud to defeat this helpless tree that cannot resist them, cannot fight back against their relentless saws? They got rich quick. They sold their trees to shipbuilders, they sold the trees overseas to Europe, they sold them to people in the cities, they sold it everywhere and they got super-rich quick, by killing these old living entities and forever changing the land. The trees were even older than the animals that I eat for meat. But they were proud and they didn’t feel what I felt.

I will hunt someday. I know I will. I must do it. I must understand the real feeling of killing an animal, because I have chosen to eat meat. I have chosen to kill. I have limits on how I will do it. I would cause as little pain as I could. I would not want to keep the animal trapped in a barn all its life like on the factory farms. If the animal is healthy, happy, comfortable and free, up until the moment when it’s killed, that is acceptable to me.

I believe that falls within the normal limits of what any animal can expect – including humans. If extraterrestrials came to this planet and started slaughtering elderly people for food – that’s the same concept. As long as we were happy, healthy, and free for our entire lives, but then suddenly got slaughtered for food after living a very long time – in principle, that’s okay with me. In practice, of course I would fight back to defend my people if it were happening. I don’t expect a deer to just let me shoot it with an arrow, I expect the deer to run away and try to escape, and I don’t blame it for that. If the extraterrestrials come here and start eating humans, I’ll fight them just the same.

(Elderly humans are unfit for consumption, as it is now. They fail all of my meat quality criteria: they have been eating a toxic diet full of chemicals, fertilizers, pesticides, heavy metals, hormones, and other substances that I will not allow in my meat, ideally. Their bodies are full of dangerous cancer-causing viruses from the vaccines they were given. Elderly people are the biggest pharmaceutical drug users, and drugs poison every organ in their bodies, causing cancer, liver failure, kidney failure, pancreas failure, and overall sickness in every part of their bodies. They have mercury or plastic dental fillings leaching chemicals into their bodies. If aliens were eating us now, they’d suffer the consequences.)

I’m preoccupied with thoughts of hunting, because I did not eat breakfast, I only drank a cup of coffee and ate some granola bars and slim jims – the junk food that I always buy so I can eat snacks constantly while working at TB. I have foods in both fridges, but none of them are ready for immediate consumption – all of them require further processing in order to be edible, which is why I only ate my junk foods. I haven’t even eaten the Nothing-But-Chicken Soup yet. My stomach is growling. This is the same pattern as always – I’ll wake up, feel too tired to do any work, drink coffee without eating a real breakfast, and then spend countless hours upon hours upon hours, all day long, writing a blog about food and hunting and killing animals. The obsession only gets worse with the passage of time as I get hungrier and hungrier.

I could switch to the other obsession – hair. I was going to comment about my dreadlocks. I’ve discovered once again that combing out a natural neglect dreadlock is the easiest thing in the world, as long as it doesn’t have damaged ends and looping. I worked on the hardest dreadlock first, the monster lock on my right side. That one formed a bunch of loops within loops, which became a big ball at the end of the dreadlocks. Above that, the lock is straight and normal. The ball at the end is the worst one on my entire head. All the locks have a small bit of looping at the very ends, but it’s not much, and when I combed out previous locks, it was easy to get through that looping at the end, and as soon as you got through the looped area, it suddenly became extremely easy and quick to comb all the way up the lock to the top, to the scalp. The one that I’m working on is horribly looped, and the ends are dry and damaged, which is what caused them to loop together and stick so badly. I’ve made some progress getting through this ball of hair, and it’s getting smaller. Soon I will break through, and when I do, it will be easy to just comb the lock quickly all the way to the top. If someone believed that the entire lock would be that bad, they would give up hope. But I know from experience that combing out the lock doesn’t take long at all once you get past the loops at the end. The texture and knotting is very different in the mature part of the lock. It’s nothing. It combs out quickly and easily in a few hours. I chose to work on the worst monster lock first, before doing all the other locks, because I knew this one would be the hardest and would take the longest. I didn’t want to get stuck with all my hair combed out except one big monster lock that took forever to finish. I wanted to get rid of the monster lock first, and then comb out all the other ones rapidly. That way, I could still change my mind if I wanted to. I might change my mind after combing out this monster lock.

It’s a myth that you have no choice but to shave off your locks. That is only for people who do not have patience, hand-eye coordination, and good eyesight. If you have all three of those things, then you are capable of combing out your own locks. I have all three of those things. I know I am able to do knitting and crocheting, and that takes a similar kind of patience. You have to be able to tolerate doing a microscopically small activity with tools and materials for hours upon hours, and I can do that – because of my personality type. It requires will. I am committed to preserving my decade-long hair. I will not wait a decade for it all to grow back.

(I have reasons why I’ve chosen to comb out my locks, but I’m hungry enough now that maybe, just maybe, it might be possible for me to get out of bed and go get something to eat. It’s very hard for me to get out of bed in the morning, but in the afternoon, I finally become able to get up, and it’s 2:39 PM right now, and that’s usually about the time when I’m able to get up if I’m not feeling well. So I will finish this and I won’t go into the dreadlock obsession.)

The concept of perfection applies to human bodies as well. You shouldn’t damage a child shortly after it’s born. You should not cut the umbilical cord. You should not wash off the greasy substance, the vernix, that protects the baby’s skin and prevents the skin from drying out. You should not circumcise the baby. You should not remove any teeth. You should use a special nourishing diet, and avoid all drugs and chemicals, so that your baby will be born fully formed and without deformities. That is my goal. I have the concept, I know what to do, and I want to do it.

I will go ahead and publish this.

My Nothing-But-Chicken Soup – a fail, a win, and a learning experience

April 14, 2014

I had that crock pot on for about nine hours. However, it wasn’t on the highest setting all that time. I finally turned down the heat to the ‘keep warm’ setting, and I went out to Wal-Mart to buy my little fridge.

I tasted a little bit of the broth before I left. It was good; however, I used tap water, and I’ve discovered that this tap water here makes me sick, as it has in several other places where I’ve lived. I was hoping that cooking it with chicken would magically make the toxic tap water go away, but it didn’t. I guess it has heavy metals from the pipes or something. It makes my stomach burn. My stomach got that burning feeling shortly after I sipped the broth. However, in theory, it was good, all except for the bad tap water part. I need to get a water filter.

I went to Wal-Mart, all the while very impatient to get back home so I could turn off my crock pot. I bought the fridge and took the taxi home, since I could not take the fridge on the bus. I got home and set up the fridge and checked on the chicken. It now looked a lot more done, the way I expected it to look, and it fell apart when I picked it up with the spoon to put it into the ziploc bags. That was more like what I remembered from when my mom used to make chicken stock by simmering chicken parts for many hours.

But a second later, as I was pouring the broth into the ziploc bag, the bag split open. I guess the water was too hot for the bag. The water went all over the little wooden table. Fortunately, this is not a fancy nice expensive wooden table, it’s just the little corner table that was already here from previous roommates. It also went on the floor. I know the carpet is going to start smelling like chicken. I tried to salvage as much of it as I could. There was still a lot of broth left in the crock pot, so I didn’t lose all of it, just a bunch of it. I poured it into a smaller saucepan, instead of a ziploc bag, and put the small pan into the fridge, where it barely fit, but it did fit.

It’s a win because the chicken looked right, after cooking for a long time, the broth tasted good, and the crock pot worked without catching fire. It was a fail because I used toxic tap water and because I broke the ziploc bag and spilled broth everywhere. It was a win because I have my own little fridge now so I can have some extra food. It was a learning experience because now I have an idea what to expect when I thaw out a chicken, how long it takes to thaw, how sharp of a knife I need, how long I have to cook it, how long it takes the crock pot to make the water simmer, and just a general idea of how it works. I still need to do more processing to actually make the bone broth that I’m aiming for, but right now, the chicken is in my little fridge and I’m not going to do any more on this after being
traumatized by the exploding ziploc bag. I’m taking a break.

That’s one of the reasons why it’s Nothing-But-Chicken Soup. It’s an experiment. I have no other ingredients. I didn’t spend hours working hard at chopping a bunch of vegetables or something, only to have the whole soup ruined because I didn’t know what I was doing and didn’t get the timing right or spilled the whole thing all over. When I don’t know what I’m doing and don’t have a good production process set up, I want to avoid taking risks, so I just made a one ingredient chicken broth soup.

It will be edible, although the tap water will make it unpleasant, but I’ll try to get through it, and I’ll remind myself to use bottled water or a filter next time. I don’t remember if filters actually work – I’ve had them in the past many times when I was living in an apartment before I was homeless. Some work, some don’t really work.

I wish I didn’t have to buy appliances – I don’t like the process of buy, buy, buy, buy stuff – not after the contamination incident when I had to throw away all my belongings. I’m going to be very
conservative about it. However, this particular appliance really is going to help me a lot. I’m not just going out and buying tons of junk for fun.

I do feel satisfied with the outcome of this project, even with the… glitches.

slow cooking the buddhist style chicken

April 14, 2014

I have the chicken in the crock pot right now. It’s been in there for hours and hours (over four hours now) and still doesn’t look done, so I’m just leaving it in there for a while. This was a badly planned project. The chicken was not quite thawed out, so I was trying and failing to cut it into pieces while it was still frozen. I don’t have a good knife, so my dull knife made it much harder. Then I put it in there not really cut up, and not really under the water. It thawed out, and after it warmed up in the crock pot I took it out again and cut it up a little bit more so it would fit better and would be mostly under the water.

It’s all in there now, but yet, I’m questioning why I cook meat at all. The real purpose is to destroy parasites. I’m just cooking the chicken right now because ‘that’s how it’s done.’ I’m not doing anything really challenging or experimental.

I cooked chicken in the past not too long ago in a big pot over a fire, when I was about to move up onto the mountain and still had my car, and I put the chicken into a styrofoam ice box at the campsite. That was the time when I ate the nothing-but-chicken ‘soup’ and went into ketosis. I only ate a few blueberries along with it, which wasn’t enough carbohydrate to keep me out of ketosis. That was a normal grocery store chicken, not a Buddhist style chicken.

The only other purpose of cooking it is to release the gelatin and the fats, which I am trying to do. It will get gelatin out of the less edible parts of the chicken, such as the feet, which are still there on a Buddhist chicken. Or at least, that’s what I’m told. I do see fat floating on the surface of the water, but that came from the fat under the skin. I haven’t done anything to the bones yet, but I want to try to make bone broth from it. I’ll have to remove the meat first.

So this is all badly planned and disorganized and I don’t know what I’m doing. I really need to get a small fridge at Wal-Mart, but I don’t want to leave the house while the crock pot is cooking. Usually they say it’s safe to leave a crock pot because it doesn’t boil over and it won’t boil away all the water and dry out. It’s only simmering slowly, and the water is very deep. However, it has a melted cord, apparently from where my cousin must have had the crock pot up on the kitchen counter on or near the stove, and one of the burners must have melted the cord. So I want to always be near it and keep an eye on it. If it hasn’t caught fire by now, maybe it won’t – but still, I will not leave until I decide that I can turn the crock pot off.

I’ve ended up just spending the whole day here sitting on my bed using the computer or resting, but haven’t been able to go back to sleep.

In the future, I still want to test ways of removing parasites without cooking meat, and the first thing I will try is probably vinegar, and I will only try it on a very small portion of meat. I have eaten raw meat before, and immediately got parasites and could feel them, but as long as you don’t get too many at once, they don’t do too much harm to you. So for the test, it will be only a little bit. That’s in the future though – for now, I am just slow cooking chicken like normal people do. I’m doing things that are easy and familiar so as to increase my likelihood of success, instead of trying difficult, uncertain, and unfamiliar experiments right away.

agitated; can’t wait till work is over

April 13, 2014

12:45 PM 4/13/2014

I am thawing out the Buddhist chicken in the fridge right now. Hopefully, I will feel well enough to cook it in the next couple days. I got a crock pot from my aunt, but it turns out that the cord melted (before she gave it to me). I turned it on and it works, so it didn’t melt all the way through, but it makes me nervous. I will just keep an eye on it. It actually belonged to my cousin, who dropped it off at my aunt’s, where I picked it up.

I requested a leave of absence at McD. I’ve been so sick and miserable, and things are not going well at the Nittany Mall store, for the people transferring there from Hills. I don’t even feel like getting into it. I’ve been writing back and forth to my coworker Ann, who agrees with me and understands what’s going on. I’ll just temporarily stop working there for a while, either until I feel better, or until the new store opens.

I am thinking I will get myself, at first, a small fridge from Wal-Mart. This is not all that I need. Ideally, I need a small freezer too. However, those are harder to find and more expensive, and I don’t want to spend a lot of money on it, especially when I am taking time off work at McD and also cutting back at TB. I’ll start with the small cheap fridge.

What I need to do is prepare packages of food in advance, and then take them to work with me, and eat them at work, and have snacks that are easy to eat and convenient, but that are in my special diet. I read the ingredients on the bag of refried beans at TB, and it contains some things that I think might be one of the sources of the mysterious smell that causes me to be painfully, relentlessly hungry while I am there. I’m not sure though. It contains some of the MSG analogs, the ‘yeast extract’ and that sort of stuff, I just don’t remember which one it was – there are a dozen different things that can be used as MSG.

In order to have a lot of small packages of food that have been prepared in advance, I need lots and lots of fridge space and freezer space. I used to do this a long time ago when I lived in the house on Whitehall Road, with the four roommates, before I moved in with Eric. There was a second fridge. I often used that one. Back then, I didn’t know about high fat diets, so I was still experimenting with learning how to cook grains and beans. I hadn’t yet learned to cook anything but the simplest of meats, and when I did cook meat, it was often low fat, and I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t like the meat I was cooking. I was also using vegetable oils, the ones that I thought were good for me, but I had arthritis, and I think the oils were triggering it. I had enough nutritional knowledge to be eating a non-standard diet, and it might have been relatively healthier than average, but it was not what I needed.

I used to cook barley and put it into ziploc bags or tupperware containers and put them into the fridge. Or I would cook brown rice. I was already tending towards a very simple, ascetic diet. I was experimenting and learning how to cook whole foods, and tending to avoid the prepackaged easy flavored foods, packaged sauces and that kind of thing. I was making little small containers with just a couple servings of grain in them, and freezing them, and thawing them out as I needed them. It took weeks and weeks to get through those batches of grain.

That’s exactly the type of thing I need now. It means I only have to cook one big batch, instead of cooking every single day. That way I can still eat the diet even when I’m having a bad day and I’m too tired to prepare anything. I can just take a pre-portioned bag out of the fridge and eat it and not do any work at all.

If I have the energy, I will go out shopping at Wal-Mart and get a small fridge. I hope that just that fridge will be enough to slightly help me so I can get on the diet and get my little portion packages of food started. It has to be extremely easy and convenient or I just won’t be able to do it every day. Having a small freezer would help even more, but I will have to shop around to find one that’s cheap and small enough. I looked at prices online, and they are several hundred dollars, and I don’t want to spend that much.

I really wanted to tell them to just take me off the schedule for next week at McD, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to anyone, and I don’t know who makes the schedule. It would take a couple weeks before they would be able to do my request for time off, which means I would have to endure several more weeks of going there. If I’d still been living in Lemont it wouldn’t have been so bad – it would be easy to ride the M bus to go straight to McD. But as it is, I just moved over to Waupelani Drive, which means I have to ride the R bus and transfer to the M bus, which means I have to leave home quite a while before I actually get there, and have to sit around waiting for a bus when I transfer.

All the other McDs in town were rebuilt, but they built the new stores right next to where the old stores were, and left the old one standing while the new one was being built. For some reason which I do not know, this particular building site will not allow them to do that – it has to be on exactly the same spot as the old one. So that’s why they had to shut down the old one and start tearing it down, instead of building the new one beside it. That’s why our employees have been scattered all over town to different stores.

I am just sort of anxious and helpless today. I still have fatigue and am still finding it very hard to get through even a very short shift at work. I’m still chugging down tons and tons and tons of caffeine, but getting tired anyway. It’s extremely frustrating. I just hate it when the time speeds by and I can’t get anything done because of fatigue or other things getting in the way, and then, another week is lost and I have to go back to work and cease to exist. Every hour spent at work is an hour in which I do not exist. And I am not able to devote energy to any entrepreneurial projects at the moment, or finding another job, or hunting and gathering so I don’t need money at all, or whatever. I have to devote energy to a couple other things first.

going up the mountain to get some more of my stuff

April 10, 2014

11:28 AM 4/10/2014

I’m waiting for the M bus right now. I’m going to go up the mountain to get some more of my stuff out of the tent. The only reason I was able to get up early is because Jesse wanted me to call him back this morning, and I did, and we were going to try to see each other today, but I will have to wait a bit. I’m up now, so I will try to get something done.

I tried putting a little bit of star anise into my coffee this morning. Since my coffee is made with cold or lukewarm water (it’s instant coffee), and since I don’t have a mortar and pestle to grind up the anise, I ended up just ‘manually’ chewing the pieces of star anise in the coffee, rather than actually brewing or dissolving any of it into the coffee. I was hoping it would make the coffee less sickening to my stomach. It helped while I was drinking it, but now, an hour or two later, it’s gradually making me sick. I don’t know why the instant coffee is making me sick now when it didn’t when I was in the tent. I might have to get bottled water, but why am I usually able to drink the tap water if it’s only a cup of water, without getting sick? It’s only when I make coffee with it that I get sick. I haven’t finished troubleshooting this problem yet, and I absolutely have to have coffee to get out of bed (at this point in time), and I refuse to buy another coffeemaker when I intend to quit coffee. I also don’t want other people buying me one.

The Szechuan pepper (prickly ash powder) is anesthetizing my intestines, which causes constipation. I read a really good website not too long ago, and it might be hard to find it again, but it talked about how a particular protein in beans causes constipation by anesthetizing the intestines. It explained that the ‘not enough water’ theory of constipation is totally wrong, and I agree. The lining of your intestine is so numb that it cannot move, due to reactions from particular foods and drugs and chemicals. The prickly ash / Szechuan pepper (same thing) causes numbness.

I really have to finish my decon. A couple days ago I had a severe contamination outbreak which is still bothering me. Here is how it happened.

I have been sick and fatigued, which is what I’ve been complaining about in my blog. I was sick enough at TB the other day that I had a bad attitude (and I was ‘spreading the misery’). My attitude was still not the greatest the next day either.

One of my coworkers offered me a ride home. We had to put my bike in the back of his car/van/jeep/whatever it is. I was grateful for the ride because it’s all uphill on the way home, so it takes forever and I have to go very slowly. I haven’t optimized my bike, and I desperately need to. I need to lower the handlebars into a more forward position. Leaning forward and putting the weight on the front of the bike makes it easiest. It has nothing to do with wind resistance, under normal circumstances, but instead is caused by load distribution. For some reason which I can’t explain without using a vector diagram, putting all the weight on the front of the bike makes it much, much, much, a million times easier to pedal. I still can’t explain exactly why this is true, but I am 100% certain that it is true, because I have tested it, and I verified it on the internet from other people who have tested the optimal load distribution on a bicycle.

So I want my handlebars to make me lean forward instead of sitting straight up, but that requires A Project, and Projects require Effort and Energy and Focus and Willpower, which I do not have. All I need is to use a tool to loosen the screw and adjust the handlebars and tighten them again, but this is too much effort, especially since my tool is in the tent.

That is why riding home from work is so hard, especially when I am sick and tired and having chronic fatigue / environmental illness. (I think I’ve observed a particular new piece of clothing which is triggering pain and fatigue. I need to wash it. It’s brand new and still has chemicals on it. I did some reading online about
environmental illness to get some suggestions for what might be causing my problem.)

So my coworker took me home, with my bike in the back. We took the front wheel off. It was hard to put it back on, especially because the other well-meaning coworker who rode along with us wanted to be the one who actually removed the wheel for me, instead of letting me do it. I allowed him to do this. He also wanted to be the one to put it back together, but that meant that I didn’t know for sure if it was on all the way, and it was pitch black outside. This was one of those situations where someone was being helpful and protective, but it made me a little anxious because I wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing. I wanted to inspect the wheel the next day in daylight.

I had the bike upside down and oiled the chain while I was at it. I ran out of oil and need to get more. I was pedaling the pedals with my hands. That was where the ephedra came from. I never finished my soil decon, which would have included getting new bike pedals, because washing off ephedra is hopeless. It’s best to just buy new things instead of trying repeatedly to wash it off and failing.

I didn’t know how bad it was. I touched the front doorknob, and I also touched the bathroom doorknob and the faucet handle in the bathroom. Ever since then, I’ve been almost totally unable to sleep. I lie awake for hours upon hours upon hours, and nothing, absolutely nothing, can put me to sleep. This is an urgent and high-priority ephedra outbreak. I don’t have my premoistened wipes yet. It’s a bad idea to use a towel unless you throw it away. It’s best to use one fresh wipe for every contaminated doorknob. I don’t want to use toilet paper because it falls apart. There is a roll of what looks like paper towels on top of the fridge, but it’s not mine.

The ephedra is on the floor from my shoes, but I can block it out if I wear shoes, socks, or slippers ALL THE TIME at home and NEVER go barefoot. This is non-ideal solution. If I lived alone, I would have cardboard all over the floor, but I cannot do that with roommates. I can only pray that the roommates’ lives haven’t been ruined too badly. The ephedra will ruin this apartment forever until the entire floor and carpet are completely removed and replaced, and then, the new floor will be ruined, because the construction workers will have been walking on the old floor without throwing their shoes in the garbage afterwards. This apartment is cursed forever, but there’s nothing I can do. I moved here without finishing my soil decon first. I can’t fix it. I can only move out, eventually, and pray that everyone’s lives will not be too badly damaged. That is how I have coped with the contamination all this time, after ruining the washers at the laundromat, ruining two other apartments, and so on.

I don’t have a lot of time. I hope I work at 5:00, but I stupidly left work last week without checking the schedule, even though I tried to tell myself to check it. I forgot again, for the second week in a row. It’s embarrassing to call on the phone to ask when I come in, because it’s a much busier store, and I don’t know if the managers might be too busy to pick up the phone and get the schedule for a retard like me who forgot to write it down for the second or third time in a row. So I will just hope that it’s probably 5:00 like it was last week. If I’m supposed to go in at 4:00, I’ll be like, ‘Oops, I’m retarded, I came in at the wrong time,’ and they’ll forgive me. I’m not urgently needed there. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was very likely that I’m probably going in at 5:00.

It’s 12:15 PM and I’m at the Lemont cafe getting lunch. I didn’t eat at home. I could have, but I didn’t. Not sure why. I just didn’t have anything quick and easy. I really, really need my own fridge and freezer. That way, I can prepare large amounts of food in advance and put it into convenient packages that I can take to work with me every day. I need to eat my own food all of the time and never eat any other food, in order to test all my special diets. I think the most important thing that I’m testing for is to see if I can make my pain go away. I have chronic, low-level, mild pain everywhere. It’s like arthritis. I recently read an article talking about how widespread chronic pain is also associated with lack of sleep, and I TOTALLY AGREE but have no control over that at this time. The only thing I can do is quit caffeine.

I need to go up the mountain, and that will take time, and then I will have to come back down and get on the bus, carrying some kind of bag or package. I don’t know exactly what I’ll bring down with me, but I have a couple garbage bags full of stuff. I could get the one that has my bike tool in it – that would help.

environmental illness of unknown cause

April 9, 2014

I have been incapacitated by fatigue. I don’t know exactly what’s causing it, and it could be several different things. It could be my new clothing, it could be pesticides outdoors or indoors, it could be many things, and I won’t even know what many of those things are, because other people are doing them without telling me. The landlords could be spraying something, the farmers could be spraying something, I don’t know. I can barely get out of bed. I really wanted to try to see Jesse this week but have been so tired I can barely even bring myself to talk on the telephone. It was a miracle that I went out shopping, and that was all I could do.

Prickly ash test, continued

April 9, 2014

It smells heavenly, like some wonderful flowery perfume, almost like a bar of soap. I rubbed it on my hands with water to see if it had any noticeable transdermal effects. They say it can be used as a poultice. The effects were not noticeable, although now that I’m typing, I notice my hands feel just a tiny bit weird. It might require oil to enhance transdermal absorption.

I decided to try eating some after seeing that the transdermal effects were minimal. It doesn’t taste the same way it smells. It had a slightly bitter, sour taste, and then a sort of spicy hotness that was very different from hot peppers – it wasn’t painful. It was more like the numbness you get from menthol, from mint. The tingling numbness spread all over my mouth and it remains there now, similar to how I feel after using toothpaste. I still have control of my tongue, so it’s not as strong as Novocaine. I can still feel things touching my tongue and the inside of my mouth, but nevertheless, something somehow ‘feels numb’ in a way that I can’t describe, which means it’s triggering some kind of special nerve receptors in my mouth, similar to the way hot peppers attach to some kind of special receptors.

I was just licking little bits of this stuff off my hands, since I had rubbed it all over my hands at first, just nibbling small crumbs of it. After a few minutes, however, the sensation of numbness started to trigger feelings of fear, so I stopped eating it and washed off my hands. But only after a minute or two, the feeling of fear gradually changed to a sigh of relief, which indicated that my body was processing the substance, and it was going to be a short-lived poison.

The feeling was very similar to menthol. Supposedly, this poison stuns parasites but does not kill them (vermifuge).

This is an interesting spice, but again, it can’t be used in huge quantities. I will continue to test it and see my reactions to it over time. I’ve categorized it in the ‘doesn’t make you drop dead instantly, but may have unwanted side effects’ category.

Prickly ash: use with great caution.

April 9, 2014

I picked up a spice at random, and it might be too ‘medicinal’ (aka, toxic) for me to use. I will try a teensy bit of it. It smells absolutely heavenly, but it also made me feel like I was gonna pass out after I inhaled it. It might be a ‘tonic’ (as WebMD said), which means it wakes you up and energizes you, sort of a stimulant and an antidepressant. It’s meant to be used in food. I am going to try a tiny bit of it. I know ginseng is a ‘tonic,’ and it gave me antidepressant side effects, including all the bad side effects, like nightmares, elevated blood pressure, and a desire to kill people (not good!).

But right now, I am eating eggs cooked in ghee. I got the same ghee that gave me parasites before, but this time, I am frying it. Since it’s cooked, it won’t give me parasites, because that’s the whole point of cooking. I also tried to chop up some fresh tarragon into the oil, along with hot peppers that my roommates were throwing away – I retrieved the bag which still had dried hot peppers left in it. Technically, I’m supposed to try not to eat peppers, because nightshade family plants cause arthritis pain, but just for today, I’m eating them. The tarragon totally lost its flavor when I cooked it mixed with the eggs and ghee and hot peppers, and I can’t even tell that it’s in there. I tried it before cooking it, and it had a special, wonderful flavor and fragrance, like licorice. So now I know not to cook it. It has to be used carefully so that you can taste it at all.

For some reason, all the coffee is making my stomach sick again. It’s the instant coffee. It didn’t make me sick when I was drinking it while living in my tent, but it’s making me sick now when I’m living in this apartment. I don’t know why! The Maxwell House brand isn’t as bad for me as the Folgers, but even so, it’s still upsetting my stomach every day.

I’m following my rule: Everything is poisonous. All plants defend themselves against being eaten. None of them were put here for us to eat. Nothing is ‘designed’ to be eaten by humans, except plants that have been bred by humans, and even they still contain toxic
substances. Even things as simple and familiar as broccoli, carrots, and onions are poisonous – not drop-dead-instantly poisonous, but slightly poisonous.

The only reason I haven’t yet ordered any fats from grasslandbeef.com (or any other online site that produces grassfed tallow and lard) is because you have to order it in large quantities, and I don’t have a lot of room in the freezer. That is why I’m just trying ghee bought at the store, because I can get only a small jar of it.

If I react badly to the prickly ash, I won’t be able to use it. It will be put into my ‘culinary herbs that are too strongly medicinal to use as culinary herbs,’ similar to rosemary. Rosemary raises blood pressure. I can feel my reaction to it just by inhaling the smell of it, and so I have never tried to touch or eat fresh rosemary, although I know I’ve eaten it in small quantities in foods before. It’s in my ‘use with caution’ category. Don’t grind up an entire pound of fresh rosemary and then eat the whole thing. Prickly ash might be like that.