Archive for June, 2014

Daily paychecks from your job

June 30, 2014

I’m imagining an employer that pays everyone daily, starting the first day they work. They begin paying you immediately, with no delay. Usually employers have a couple weeks of delay before you start getting your money, but not here. We pay right away every day. It even rhymes.

The employer guarantees that you have housing provided by the employer. You don’t have to worry about things like where you will live or how you will pay your rent. The employer takes care of it. The employer is closely involved in your life and wants to make sure you have everything you need. If you earn enough money and feel confident enough, you’re allowed to move someplace else that isn’t provided by the employer, but the employer offers the housing to everyone by default until and unless they want to leave.

The payments aren’t under the table. It’s all recorded in the official bookkeeping. They have a system that lets them start paying people immediately. It’s easy to do, it just requires someone with the willpower to make it happen and to care enough about doing it, someone who values this so much that they really want to make it happen. Our computers are able to process all the money immediately and automatically. It just never happened before because nobody cared enough to make it happen. Payouts are a daily routine. We take it for granted that this has to be done. It will always be done. It won’t be some high ideal that we strive for but never really accomplish. Instead it is viewed as a necessity of life, like breathing. It is an essential function of the business. Any other employer who does business any other way but this is viewed as crazy. How can they possibly run a business that way? Why would anybody ever want to work there?

All the prices on the menu are round numbers, and nothing ends with .99. We don’t care if we fail to trick a couple of fools into spending more money than they want to spend. Instead, we *want* our customers to be aware of just how much they are spending. We want our customers to know and understand our prices and to be able to remember them easily and calculate with them easily, for the customers’ convenience, because the customers’ convenience is our top priority, and that is why they love us so much. Nobody else provides this wonderful service for them, because everyone else is too stupid to question the tradition of ‘psychological pricing’ on all menu items. And we don’t just do this round number pricing quietly, we inform everyone that we are doing it, and we advertise it. That way, people know what it’s called, they know what we do, they know how to describe it, and they know why they hate what everyone else is doing. ‘Oh, that’s called “psychological pricing?” I always hated that! Now I know what it’s called!’

Other businesses are just too stupid to care about the welfare of their employees and the convenience of their customers. As soon as we start doing it, people will flock to us, and they will love us, and they will say, ‘Why didn’t anyone do this before? Why isn’t everyone doing this?’

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unfinished thought: ‘God Stepped Down’

June 30, 2014

I was thinking that some religion should create a morality so powerful, it would change God’s mind about being God, and he would voluntarily step down and set everyone free. Since I view ‘God’ as – well, it’s hard to explain. I have more than one meaning for the word ‘God.’ The god most people are experiencing is a fake god created by humans using electronic mind control, and that’s the one that I would have step down. This morality would have to prevent other fake gods from taking its place. The ‘real’ God as I imagine it is something much more abstract, and it doesn’t matter if that god steps down from his position or not, because he isn’t really doing anything anyway, he’s just someone you scream out to for help when you are completely helpless and terrified, and he doesn’t respond or help you. Morality is supposed to be something that *convinces* you to change your beliefs and behavior, because it gives you some kind of vision. My morality was influenced by Ayn Rand. I need something to replace that, or integrate with that, something compatible with my personality type. All moralities should be compatible with the personality type of the person whom they are for.

I was thinking of something that combined the enneagram with Model B socionics. The ‘worst fear’ and ‘primary desire’ (whatever they’re called) in that version of the enneagram that has the ‘levels of development’ will represent something else, like your id functions and superego functions, both of which are things you fear and dislike. Disvalued functions will be viewed as the fears, and valued functions will be viewed as the primary desires. All types will be viewed as strong and good when they are healthy.

I abandoned the enneagram years ago, and I remember telling people not to try to reconcile the enneagram with the Myers-Briggs. However, I’m changing my position on that. I am now officially saying that the enneagram would be great if it had sixteen types instead of nine. I remember in the past I said, ‘Don’t try to make the numbers match because these two tests are not testing for the same thing,’ but I’m changing my mind about that. I’m saying, ‘yes they are,’ and ‘they should be.’ Both tests are searching for the same thing. Reconcile them by those ‘worst fears’ and whatever else the stuff was called in the levels. I used to have a couple of the books with those charts and diagrams in the back where it showed how you progress through the levels of development. Those need to be reconciled with the plus and minus functions of Model B in socionics.

Each part of the function model has a particular feeling associated with it. It’s divided into the ego, superego, super-id, and id. The ego is your strong, valued functions that you are able to talk about verbally. The superego is your weak, disvalued functions that you are using consciously and verbally. The super-id is your valued functions that you are unable to explain verbally – subconscious valued functions, something you find strongly attractive and desirable when it occurs in other people, but you can’t do it yourself, you can’t verbalize it yourself, you can’t even really describe what it is very well. The id is your disvalued subconscious strong functions. You feel like you could do everything in your id, if you absolutely had to, but you really really want to avoid doing those things, but you know you would be good at them if you tried. You really hate those things, but you know you’re good at them. One example, for me, is, I know that I could be a conformist and climb the corporate ladder if I really wanted to, but I find that sort of repulsive – that’s the only way I can describe it – it seems evil and undesirable. I could totally conform to everything to gain approval, but I don’t want to. But I’d be good at it if I did. That’s probably an id function. Or another way to describe it (based on what I think my id functions are) would be ‘join the winning team because they’re more powerful.’ I could do that, but that seems evil to me.

So, all the plus and minus sign information elements need to be carefully and thoroughly described, and then a test needs to be made that can identify them, and they need to be placed in an
enneagram-like structure of levels of development. The test should force you to actually *do* those things rather than self-describe. The test should force you to actually make choices and interpret things by using these functions.

And all of this needs to be put into the context of physical health and drug use and other factors that influence everything about you. Many people are at the ‘low level of development’ in the ennegram due to the fact that they are using prescription psychiatric drugs, which make everyone crazy and violent and impulsive. It isn’t because they are ‘undeveloped’ or something. I don’t like the word ‘levels of development.’ I never liked it because that chart implied that all you had to do was just choose to believe a particular belief, and you would thereby climb higher up the level. Like, for instance, you’re in a nuclear war and you’re being bombed, and your entire town is being destroyed, but all you have to do is voluntarily choose to have faith in your fellow human beings, and you will thereby magically become healthy and powerful and able to accomplish anything. There are times when objective reality really is horrible, and your beliefs aren’t going to change anything, because you have no control over what is happening. So, I want the ‘levels of development’ thing to somehow get rid of this implication or suggestion that all you have to do is choose to believe one little belief, and you will thereby climb higher up the levels.

So yes, my official position on the enneagram now is: yes, both the enneagram and socionics/MBTI/Jung are testing for the same thing, and so, the enneagram is deficient because it has only nine types instead of sixteen, so you need to integrate the two by making something similiar to the enneagram but with sixteen types. Basically, make all the ‘parts’ of the socionics model (ego, superego, superid, and id) into ‘primary desire,’ ‘primary fear,’ ‘something else,’ ‘something else,’ and those are in no particular order – I don’t know if the primary fear would be the id or the superego – I vaguely recall they said your demonstrative function was your worst fear. Someone needs to describe all those functions and what your feeling is about them. Functions, not elements – the ‘functions’ refers to which position they are in in the model (1st, 2nd,…).

In order to integrate the two systems, or reconcile them, or whatever, you can just get rid of whatever the enneagram already has in it. Just use the same concept structure and create sixteen new types in it. Get rid of all the ‘directions of integration and disintegration’ garbage, unless you can find a way that it correlates with something in the functions. Do you resemble some other type when you are happy or under stress? Does it matter if you do? Can anything useful be gained by seeing it this way? Anyway, no need to try to salvage what the enneagram already has in it. Start fresh with sixteen types described as whatever they are.

They all need to be much more thoroughly and extensively described and analyzed. It needs to be something that can be brought out by means of questioning, because that was one of the things the enneagram had that was good – it came from people who meditated and who questioned themselves and were questioned by others, who thereby discovered what their worst fears were and primary desires were.

Xiaocheng is going back to China

June 29, 2014

10:26 AM 6/29/2014

One of my roommates is going back to China. 😦 It’s Xiaocheng. I never got to know my roommates because I keep to myself, since I am preoccupied with other goals. But I’ve discovered that I love Asians. I love the food they cook, I love their impossibly difficult and different and unfamiliar writing system and tonal language, I just love their differentness in general. I love the weird things that I read about them on the internet. There’s a lot going on with 1.3 billion people and a 5000 year history.

Xiaocheng had a boyfriend who was living with her, but I think he went back to China a couple months ago, and she has been here by herself with me since then. She still has her dog Snow. I am so sad, I want to cry – I can hear her and a couple of Chinese guys going up and down the stairs moving her furniture out the door.

Every day, she gets up in the morning sometime after 9:30 or so, and she comes down the stairs, rinses out her wok, and then starts boiling some water in it. She goes back up the stairs and puts Snow on a leash, and then comes back down again. She puts six rice balls with black sesame into the wok of boiling water, and says something like ‘Quoshon’ to the dog (perhaps ‘Stay’ or ‘Sit’), as the dog is always jumping at the door excited to go out, and there are all these long claw marks and dirty footprints on the wall there. After the six rice balls are in the water, she goes out the door for Snow’s walk. The rice balls boil quietly for a few minutes. She comes back in, checks on the rice balls, and then takes Snow upstairs. Then she comes back down and gets the rice balls.

She will sometimes pour water into her water filter pitcher, because, like me, she has noticed that the water is terrible in this house. She lifts up the filter section and turns it perpendicular to the lower pitcher so that the filter is up above the water, and I can hear the water trickling down.

I try to say their beautiful names the right way, but I don’t know how. One time I heard her boyfriend saying her name over and over, ‘Xiaocheng… Xiaocheng… Xiaocheng…’ like he was demonstrating. It didn’t sound like the pidgin spelling, it sounded more like ‘Cha-chong.’ It’s better to copy what you hear than to try to pronounce the spelling, because words in writing are never exactly the same as words you say out loud. A person who only copied what they could hear, and never read anything in writing, would speak with less of an accent. That’s how a baby learns to talk.

I don’t love everything about China. They have a horrible government. I don’t love everything about their culture either. But for some reason, I just love Asians. Maybe I love a challenge, and Asians are so completely foreign and unfamiliar and difficult that I feel they’re challenging enough for me.

Students are always coming and going, and you can’t get attached to them emotionally, but I do anyway. I will miss the lovely Xiaocheng, and I don’t know who’s coming to live here next. I wonder if she’s going to get a job in China? I wonder if people get better jobs because they went to Penn State? I always thought that I can’t imagine why anyone would want to come here. But really, this is a peaceful, healthy place with a low crime rate. I don’t like Penn State and I don’t like football, but this place is a good safe place to live. I hope it’s worth it, for them, when they go back. I know they will have huge student debts to pay off… I hope all is well for her when she goes back to China and I’m glad to have met her.

survived my first day back at McD

June 26, 2014

I was going to write a blog, but I’m too tired. I am in caffeine withdrawal. I’ve continued bringing cream to work and drinking it instead of coffee. I have not completely quit coffee entirely yet, I’m just drinking less of it in the evenings. I still have some in the morning.

McD is a different universe from TB. The people are different, the culture is different, the whole way of doing things is different. Our customers are *so glad* that our store is open again! TB cannot substitute for McD. People were not happy at all about having to go elsewhere to get food.

I’m not saying that I like everything about McD. If I made my own McD, it would be all organic grass fed meats, no factory farms. I’d do a lot of stuff differently. However, I agree with them about the need to provide high fat, filling, high calorie, satisfying meals, instead of lite, lowfat, low calorie, empty meals full of nothing but lettuce and air.

The drive-thru went so quickly! It takes only a couple seconds to take each customer’s order. Why? Because they only need to order two or three items, and they know the food is filling, so they will be satisfied. At TB, on the other hand, every customer orders five or seven or twelve or twenty items, all of which are small, complicated, picky little things that require several minutes to assemble, and all of which are so low calorie that you have to eat a hundred of them to even begin to feel full. The setup isn’t ergonomic, so you have to reach a long distance to get things you need to put the food together. Ergonomics isn’t their strong point.

Their strong point is starving and frustrating their customers, while putting on an image of healthiness, then giving them a LARGE drink of soda along with all that ‘healthy’ food because people are desperate to get just a couple more calories – but hey, that soda isn’t *our* fault! We don’t make the soda. Another company makes the soda, so you only have yourself to blame if you choose to buy a large soda along with your food (large is the default size for a combo meal). People have to drink tons and tons of sugar to make up for all the calories they aren’t getting in their food. Any food provider that claims to be healthy, but then offers any soda whatsoever as a drink, is hypocritical (Subway, for instance!). The only way a place can be healthy is if they do not even sell any soda at all in the entire store – the option must simply not exist at all. It’s not the customer’s choice, it shouldn’t be the customer’s choice, it’s the principle and the hypocrisy. If you are going to portray your restaurant as healthy, then you should take full responsibility for every single item sold in your store, including the soda, which is not healthy.

But the drive-thru at McD just whizzed right by, one after another, just a couple seconds each. One or two items is enough. You don’t starve. You don’t feel frustrated. You know this food will get you through a couple hours.

The food is full of hormones from the factory farm. The crispy chicken, in particular, has a hormone in it which causes rapid weight gain. The calories have absolutely nothing to do with the weight gain. It is the hormones, and only the hormones, that cause this weight gain. I gain fat on my thighs and butt rapidly and immediately overnight if I eat even just one patty of crispy chicken by itself and nothing but that. The next day I will feel my legs rubbing together when I walk. Meanwhile, I can drink an entire quart of organic half-and-half, which has – well, you saw my blog the other day – the amount of saturated fat was something like 320% of my RDA. I don’t know how many calories it is. I can drink an entire quart of half and half in one day, but I don’t gain any fat because it’s organic. It has no hormones. Calories and fat have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that this food makes you fat. It is hormones and only hormones, from the factory farm.

So, I am not saying McD is perfect. It will not meet my criteria until it fixes its *!@#$@!#$* computer system and rewrites it in assembly language and puts it back on a green screen or plain old calculator where it belongs. It will not meet my criteria until it sources all of its food from organic grassfed animals. It will not meet my criteria until it stops serving all sodas. Ideally, I’d like it not to have coffee any more either. However, like I said with TB, if you change a place so completely that it loses its brand identity, you can’t change it any more without making it something else. This would be my own business, and it would not be McD anymore. My goal would be to provide food that does not trigger any cravings. That has always been my focus of study, the cravings. If you have a craving, something is wrong. If you eat food, then get a craving for something, then the food you ate was somehow incomplete or unhealthy. I also want to understand the addiction to opioid proteins in milk, beans, meats, and other things. There is an actual need to eat food, but yet, there is also such a thing as addiction. Food is nourishing, and even nourishing foods can have these addictive opioid proteins in them, and when you get addicted to something nourishing, it’s not as bad as getting addicted to a pure drug and starving to death because you want nothing but the drugs (I’ve read that processed cocaine and other drugs have so many toxic chemicals in them from the refining process that actually the chemicals are a big part of why these drugs are so dangerous. Indigenous people in South America chew coca leaves with fewer harmful effects than the people who use powdered cocaine. So, technically, even drugs might not be as harmful if they are not refined and processed with deadly chemicals.).

I should go to bed. I’m doing two jobs tomorrow. I must get up early. It is going to be hell for a week or two as I adjust to the new schedule. I must get back to having two jobs and earning enough money that I can set money aside and save it, like I was doing before. I was in the tent then, and I didn’t pay rent, but I went to the hotel so much. I hope I can save money, and also keep food in the fridge, because I could not eat good food when I was in the tent. I hope I can balance out my expenses and my income so that even though I have to pay rent now, hopefully I can still save money.

a desperate need for communication; a certainty that it will hurt if you stub your toe, and certainty that my baby will be born perfect – I am arrogant and strong and I must do it – I will protect it with my life (darn it, this is the title, not the blog itself, but I’m verbose today)

June 26, 2014

9:40 AM 6/26/2014

People at TB are upset that I’m leaving. I am one of those people who is sort of invisible and essential and unappreciated. I’m usually not aware that anybody cares that I exist. People do not normally praise me out loud to my face. If I really think about it, I know that I’m a pretty good employee and I know people are grateful for my help.

One of the two IEIs has seemed to be unhappy that I am cutting back my hours at TB. I’ve been closing there five nights a week for the past couple months, or, past few weeks, or whatever. I’ve lost track of time. Ever since I totally ran out of money. Anyway they’ve gotten used to me being there.

So, he drove me home with my bike in the back so that we could chat a little bit. And I got that feeling that I always get when I’m with people who are in my ‘mental ring’ socionically (according to the model I use, this is: SLI, LSE, ESI, SEE, IEI, EIE, LII, ILE). It’s this feeling that there’s some kind of a wall that we cannot get past, some kind of barrier that we cannot get through, something which is not being said or done which needs to be said or done. I had that feeling of ‘a wall that I cannot break through’ when I was chatting with him.

I did actually enjoy talking to him. I always feel as though I’m not able to explain myself as thoroughly as I would like. I am extremely verbose, and I want to drag out the tiny little nuances of every little statement that I make. I remember having female best friends when I was young – one an IEE, and another an EII in college – and I was able to talk more thoroughly in particular to Rachael the IEE. We could analyze our own statements, then analyze the implications within the statements, and then the implications within those implications, for hours at a time. There was so much infinite depth. Rick mentioned the phenomenon of ‘highly sensitive people,’ and one of the descriptions of that is that they need to express all the nuances of things in more detail and are not satisfied when they try to process something quickly as all one unit, one big ‘lump’ of information.

(*Edit: I wandered away from this topic and never came back. I was going to say, I really need to trust people deeply. I need this very, very badly. I need to trust someone so completely that I can tell them anything, while they listen quietly. But I do not want them to merely listen, I want them to respond properly too. I want them to answer, and participate, and hear what I say, and react to it, and analyze it, and then I in turn will react to whatever they have said. I need plenty of time, relaxation, a lack of caffeine, and a lack of electronic zapping, in order to do this. And I need the right types of people. I need this so very, very badly.*)

If we had had more time last night, if I didn’t feel like I had to get to bed, if I had felt less anxious, and if there wasn’t that ‘mental ring barrier,’ then I would have been able to gradually open up more and trust him and talk to him. I have a lack of trust. I really want to tell people *everything*. I do not want to have to constantly hold back things I want to say, but I do, all the time, constantly, and I’m seeking an IEE who wants to hear every little infinite nuance of every little thing I want to tell him. I am actually fairly sure Jesse is an LIE, and I’m going to keep him retyped that way. We just have so many difficulties getting together, and there are patterns of behavior that more strongly resemble a rational logical type, not an irrational type.

I tried befriending, or dating, someone years ago who I think might have been an IEI. He was a fat guy who I met at McD. I actually do not really have a problem with fat guys, as long as they are extremely intelligent and able to have a deep conversation with me. It’s true that my strongest sexual attraction is towards skeletally thin ectomorph weaklings. But in the long run I am open to the possibility of dating a fat guy too, because the things that I need most are intellectual abilities.

I’m not certain that IEI was his type. It’s also possible that he could have been an ILE. I really don’t remember. We befriended each other at work, and we went out together a couple of times, and went to a movie, and sent some emails to each other or talked on the phone or something – I can’t remember because, A. it was years ago, and B. nothing really happened. We didn’t end up having a sexual
relationship.

But I remember one of the conflicts that made me distrust him enough that I decided I didn’t want to invest any more in this relationship. I tried to tell him that I was being attacked with electronic weapons. He was unable to consider the possibility that it might really be happening, and he was scornful and contemptuous about it. He was closed-minded on that particular topic. I *have to* be able to tell someone that I am being attacked and that the attacks have a major impact on my life, in order for me to be close to someone at all. One of the wonderful things about dear Jesse, LIE that he is, he took me seriously about those things and he actually considered that it could be real. I’ve had similar experiences with LIEs before, being taken seriously about some of my extremely strange theories and strange experiences, and actually being believed and respected about those things. I don’t know if it’s something about LIEs in particular, or something about the supervision relationship. The LIEs were able to grasp the general idea, the theory, the concept that maybe this is possible. Jesse did that – he read a few parts of my blog and got the general idea and understood that it might be possible. He talked about it with me and actually considered that it might be real. I greatly appreciate being taken seriously. So that was why I ended up not investing any more into the fat guy who I met at McD years ago. He was unable to grasp the general concept of ‘maybe, just maybe, it might be possible that this is real.’

I don’t want someone to merely listen to me, tolerate it, privately disagree, and then go behind my back and talk about how crazy I am. I really do not trust people on this issue. I don’t really trust the guy I was talking to last night completely enough to be really open and blunt about everything, I just said some very vague general things that could have happened to anyone, things that expressed a
commonplace, mainstream view on the topic. I said something like, ‘I’ve been through the whole “hearing voices” thing,’ which is pretty commonplace and understandable and non-controversial, rather than making a blunt statement of what I believe is the truth, which is, ‘I am aware that I’m being attacked, but actually everyone everywhere is being attacked constantly 24 hours a day, they just don’t know it’s happening.’ I did not emphasize the gigantic scope, the enormity, the hugeness, the incomprehensible and unimaginable hugeness of this evil. Instead I implied that this was just some little quirk, some brief little incident that I had experienced in the past, long ago and gone now, not something happening to me 24 hours a day and totally destroying the entire existence of my soul so that I have no free will whatsoever. Maybe, perhaps, I once heard a voice or two, in my head, a decade ago or so, but thankfully, it was a brief and passing thing, and I’m okay now, so don’t be scared. Long ago and far away, on a distant planet, not in my backyard. Don’t worry, it can’t hurt you.

But I could be strong and destructive and confrontational if I wanted to. I could cause people to react emotionally. I could trigger all their defenses. I could push them into denial, make them yell and shout at me, pull out all the stops. I don’t like to do that, and even without socionics, if I had never known socionics, I still would have realized subconsciously what would happen if I directly confronted this person and tried to get into an argument with him and change his mind about this, because I already know what happens from decades of experience. I know what happens when you can’t change people’s minds, when they rigidly believe something and refuse to consider any other possibility. I know what happens when a fact of reality is so terrifying and so overwhelming that it will cause your entire universe to collapse. What, you mean *I’m* being attacked too – all the time? You mean, I’ve never had a moment of freedom in my entire life either, I just didn’t know it? You mean, I’m already a mind control slave too, but for some reason, they didn’t bother to reveal themselves openly to me the way they did to you?

And yet, I am greatly distressed if, heaven forbid, someone should ever agree with me. Jesse went through a period when he was withdrawing from alcohol. During that withdrawal, he suffered. Alcohol withdrawal is one of the most terrible things that you can do. Jesse was having severe anxiety, and during those moments, he was aware that he was being attacked and controlled by an external force, because of having talked with me and having read some parts of my blog. I felt *horrible* for having given him the suggestion that he might be getting attacked and controlled, while being unable to tell him what to do about it, how to make it better. I felt pathetic and helpless. I felt totally worthless. I wanted so much to protect him and comfort him, but he was on the phone with me, and he was somewhere far away, I don’t know where. I would have simply held him with my body, even though I could not shield him or stop whatever he was feeling, and I could not stop his alcohol withdrawal from hurting him. I will always be grateful that Jesse believed me, but I do not have the resources I need to actually help him or protect him or even talk about it the way he needs to. I just won’t make him focus on it and think about it every day. If there’s nothing you can do about it, there’s no need to think about it constantly when you have other things you need to do.

So, as I was saying, I did chat with one of the IEIs from work last night. I’ve wanted to tell him that the reason his left arm is deformed is probably because of thalidomide – it looks exactly like a thalidomide deformity. I mentioned that to his LSI friend one time, but he said, ‘I don’t even know what that is,’ thalidomide. I just told him it was a drug that can cause deformities in babies, deformities that look like that. But again, this is one of those traumatic things where there’s nothing you can do about it, so in a way there’s no point in talking about it unless they are inherently interested in those kinds of things. I don’t normally want to call attention to his short arm. There are only a few situations where he can’t do something and needs help.

He only needs to know about thalidomide if he has a future wife who’s about to have children and who is taking drugs while pregnant. (Note: thalidomide can damage your nerves when you take it, too, so actually, it doesn’t merely harm the baby, it also harms the person who takes it.) All drugs must be stopped during pregnancy, and don’t let your doctor tell you that it’s okay to take this drug or that drug, or that the mother’s need for the drug is so great that it’s worth the ‘risk’ (also known as ‘certainty!’) that the child will have a birth defect. Blood pressure drugs cause autism, and I know this because my EII friend from college is on blood pressure drugs, took them during pregnancy, and has two autistic children. All prescription drugs cause autism. Her children would have been the worst case scenario, the worst of all the modern stupidity: drugs during pregnancy, followed by formula feeding instead of breastfeeding, followed by vaccinations. She did not breast feed. If she had breastfed them and refused to vaccinate them, her children would still have had cognitive and physical impairments caused by the blood pressure drugs during pregnancy, but they would have been less severe, because it’s that triple combination of drugs during pregnancy, formula feeding, and vaccinations that does the worst of it. All three of those things are commonly being done. Add to that the ‘Standard American Diet,’ yet another factor contributing to the weakness and vulnerability of children born nowadays. One might argue that she would pass along blood pressure drugs to her children while breastfeeding, but I’ll say, suppose she had wet nursed them with another woman’s milk instead of her own, theoretically. Breastfeed them somehow using any means necessary.

When I say ‘risk, otherwise known as certainty,’ I really do mean that it is a certainty. I am a perfectionist. Suppose that you have really good enzymes. You’re one of those lucky people who has ten copies of the gene for the enzyme that metabolizes a drug, so you can take tons of this drug and have no side effects whatsoever, and you think you’re super strong and nothing can possibly hurt you. So you take drugs while you’re pregnant and maybe not much of it reaches your baby, because your body metabolizes it so quickly. But a little bit of it is still getting into your baby. It affects you whether you know it or not. It changes you. It uses up resources your body needs. The little bit of it that gets into your baby’s body from you will still affect the development of the baby. It might affect it in subtle ways. But if you hadn’t taken the drugs, your baby would have been bigger, stronger, and healthier. You might *think* that the baby looks ‘mostly normal’ when it comes out, but that’s because you don’t know what the baby would have looked like otherwise. There are subtle signs that something is wrong with people’s bodies – for instance, our skulls are thin, whereas the skulls of ancient people were thick. Our bones are thinner than theirs. Some people believe this is because we eat grains – I agree that might be the reason. Now, it’s also because of all our drugs and chemicals, and it’s also probably because of our constant contact with metallic objects – I believe metal goes through our skin and affects us in ways we aren’t aware of. Nonmetallic primitive societies using stone age tools have the thickest skulls. So, you think your child wasn’t harmed by your drugs, because it’s nothing obvious and severe, no gross deformities. People only acknowledge gross, obvious deformities, and they ignore subtle deformities and subtle imperfections, a subtle loss of what could have been, a reduction of potential. Your child would have been bigger, healthier, stronger, happier, with a better brain, a better body, better bones, if you had not taken the drugs. Just because they weren’t born with a gross deformity (such as anencephaly, the lack of a brain, which is caused by antidepressants) doesn’t mean that everything is fine. That is why I say it is a CERTAINTY that your baby will be deformed by the drugs, not merely a ‘risk.’

Also, ‘risk’ implies passive random chance. You might get struck by lightning. You might win the lottery. You might get a deformed baby, because 1/10,000 people randomly get deformed babies by sheer random chance. It implies a total lack of control. You have no power whatsoever to influence whether that one person in ten thousand is you. It’s completely random, and you don’t need to bother yourself with thinking about the causes and the things you have control over. You can reduce that risk to zero if you take actions to prevent it from happening. You can reduce the risk to zero if you refrain from doing all the things that are known to cause it. It’s so close to zero that it’s not even worth worrying about at all. You can call it certainty.

I, for instance, am certain that I have enough knowledge now to guarantee that my babies are born perfect, and I don’t view it as a ‘risk’ that they ‘might’ have a 1/10,000 chance of getting some random deformity. I ignore the role of genes, I ignore genetic diseases, and I only care about those things that I have the power to prevent by avoiding the causes. There are two ways of seeing this: do something extra to prevent something, versus refrain from doing something that causes it. If you take extra vitamins to prevent yourself from getting sick, that’s in the ‘do something extra’ category, the ‘take action to get stronger’ category. If you refrain from taking drugs, that’s in the ‘do less of something dangerous’ category. You can do more of something beneficial, or do less of something harmful. I know enough about both categories to be certain – I know what strengthens you, and I know what poisons you, and I can do what’s needed to be certain about my baby. I am not a helpless victim of ‘risk.’ I do not see things in terms of lottery numbers and lightning strikes and shark attacks. If you take a hammer and smash your own toe with it, there is a 1/1 risk that it will hurt like hell, unless you have a nerve disorder that makes you unable to feel pain. I guess there might be a 1/100,000 chance that you have that disorder, but you’d already know by now if you did. So, assume you don’t. Maybe there’s a 1/100,000,000 chance that you suddenly acquired that nerve disorder the moment before you smashed your toe with the hammer.

I need to eat something… I haven’t had breakfast.

I pray, I pray, that I may do the things I must do, that I may do them in this limited time that I have, that I may make progress, that I may succeed in my goals. And I do not believe in a god. And this god who existed above all, all this time, still did not help all the innocent people who suffered throughout human history. He did not help them on earth, but they claim he gave them heaven. And I do not believe in a literal heaven. The only afterlife I believe in is a metaphorical afterlife, where your children are your afterlife, and where time itself goes on infinitely after you die, and time has existed forever before you were born, and in that sense, there is something beyond this moment. For me the children are the afterlife, and I must have them, or it will be the end of a long line of humans, a long line of living creatures, a long line extending all the way back to the beginning of life itself, an unbroken line that led to me, from the very first cell that ever existed, because every cell had a parent cell, except for new cells being constantly created in organic soup and activated by electric fields, which is going on even now, in the present. Maybe those are viruses. Whatever they are, they’re still being created. But I come from a long line of cells that have a long, established history of becoming large, complex macrolife,
macroorganisms. For me, the metaphor is: have children, or your long line of organisms will end forever. I want to see more people like me on this earth, and I want them to compete against all the people I don’t like. I want the world to change. I want to experience the thing that my body was made for, the thing that I have thought about and been fascinated with all this time. I want to use this knowledge and test it and refine it and learn more.

I have to go eat something. I work at McD today for the first time in months. I’m nervous. I will have to relearn it.

What? I work today?

June 25, 2014

I was very dismayed to find out that I’ve changed my schedule and I have to go to work this evening. That ruined my day.

It has been suggested that perhaps Jesse should not be retyped as an LIE. I don’t know.

I only briefly saw him a few days ago, last week or whenever (I don’t recall which day it was). He tried to stop in at TB to say hello to me, but it was so busy that I barely got to see him at all, and he ended up going back home. I never even got to give him a hug.

I think I am going to try again to reach him, after I have settled in to my work schedule. I also suspect that my hair combing project is interfering with this. I have to constantly pester him in order to get any response at all, and I haven’t been doing that. He *claims* that he does not mind it when I am pestering him. I worry about that because I don’t want to annoy him.

I cannot figure out his type and cannot determine whether there is any future in a relationship with him. I am waiting, or being forced to wait, before I can know more.

More plot holes in Harry Potter – Chamber of Secrets: kids are petrified for months; Ron’s wand is broken for the entire school year

June 24, 2014

I’m not sure why I’m looking for plot holes.

I noticed this time, once again, that the wizarding world lacks a larger economic system. Why do they go months and months and months unable to revive the people who have been petrified? That would never happen! If someone were petrified, if the wizarding world were real, they would have been taken away to St. Mungo’s, the wizard hospital. They wouldn’t just sit there in a bed in the hospital wing at Hogwarts for months. Or else they would have ordered a mandrake potion to be delivered from somewhere else. Surely someone somewhere on the planet already has a supply of mandrake potions already made? But no, the characters are down and frozen for the entire rest of the book until the mandrakes in the greenhouse are fully grown. Making the mandrake potion yourself locally is the *only* way of getting a mandrake potion. And these people’s parents don’t care, and they’re just passively letting their kids sit there petrified and are not taking any actions themselves to get their kids reawakened. The larger economic system, and the wizarding world outside Hogwarts, just does not exist in this book, and so nobody can reawaken these kids.

Why? Because if any of the petrified kids had been reawakened, it would have revealed the whole secret of the book – that it was a basilisk that they had seen before they were petrified. The kids would have been able to tell their stories of what exactly had happened when they were attacked.

I found another plot hole but I can’t remember what it was…. Oh yeah, Ron’s wand. Why is Ron’s wand broken all year long? I know wands are very expensive, the equivalent of thousands of dollars. Doesn’t the wizarding community let people buy wands with debt? Again, the lack of an economy. It just seems like Ron could not possibly get through an entire school year with a wand that doesn’t function. It’s like going a whole year at school without using a pencil (back in the old days when we didn’t have laptops and stuff at school, when we actually used nothing but pencils and paper). It is simply impossible to get through a school year without a wand at Hogwarts. Ron would have been learning nothing at all and failing out of every single class and the entire school year would have been totally wasted.

So surely the school would have just a couple spare wands lying around? After all, they do have school brooms for kids to ride on. They have school brooms in the class where they teach broomstick flying, and they have school brooms for the kids playing Quidditch if they need them. Why wouldn’t they have school wands? It’s possible for people to use a wand that isn’t their own, it just doesn’t work as well – the wand is sort of unfriendly and uncooperative and it isn’t as ‘smooth’ in how it operates. But come on! Not a single spare wand anywhere in the entire school for poor Ron Weasley who’s failing every single class because his wand is totally broken and doesn’t work at all? Hasn’t a single teacher noticed that his wand is totally malfunctioning when he tries to do his schoolwork or take tests in his classes?

Is there something in the plot that requires Ron’s wand to be broken? Why yes, there is. At the very end of the book, Ron’s broken wand backfires on Professor Lockhart, causing an avalanche of rocks and causing Lockhart to lose his own memory instead of wiping out Harry’s and Ron’s memories.

But Ron could have still used a borrowed wand during his classes, and maybe he would have just used his own broken wand in his spare time outside of classes. That would allow him to be using the broken wand when they went to the chamber with Lockhart. But readers might have forgotten that Ron’s wand was broken if they weren’t reminded about it every now and then throughout the book when Ron’s malfunctioning wand did funny things as he tried to do his schoolwork.

Ron’s wand could have been intact all year long, but then could have gotten broken just before the incident with Lockhart at the end. But that would have meant less foreshadowing, and foreshadowing makes the story more interesting. It’s like fate – the broken wand was there all along, causing problems, but it saves them in the end. If it had been broken only moments before Lockhart tried to use it, that would have been less like ‘fate’ and more like just an ‘accident.’ It was ‘fate’ because it was broken for months and months and months, annoying Ron and making his life difficult, but Ron could have said (in the past) something like, ‘Oh well, surely this broken wand will fit into my future fate somehow – I can endure. It will all work out. Everything fits together in the end.’ That’s a way that people convince themselves to endure adversity, by believing that everything has its place and a role to play in the big scheme of the universe. Something that was really bad and annoying for a really long time suddenly turned out to have a good purpose eventually. It wouldn’t have been as dramatic if the wand had only been broken seconds before Lockhart picked it up.

There are lots more plot holes or plot weaknesses or plot
manipulations by the author, things that only happened because it served a dramatic purpose or the author’s wishes for the type of world she wanted to create.

I always thought that if wizarding were real, the evil wizards would be much, much more evil and more powerful. They would have been more like computer hackers, people who have knowledge of how everything works. They would also have a large economy of evil tools and supplies – not just a little place like Knockturn Alley, but an entire underground economy.

The only reason I can use to explain why there is no large economic system is, maybe, the wizard population is *extremely* low. However, there are other things in the books that imply that the global population of wizards is pretty large. Thousands of people come from all over the world for the Quidditch World Cup. However, eh, the population could still be pretty small. There’s only one school in all of Britain – Hogwarts. Then there’s one school in France and one school someplace else, Durmstrang (for some reason I’m not remembering the name of the country that’s in). So if there is only one school per country, and only a few hundred kids at the school, then the percentage of people who are wizards must be pretty small. There are so few kids that you can ‘Sort’ them on their first day at school, going through each person one by one, putting the Sorting Hat on them and waiting to see which house they’re going into. That’s another thing – if they wanted to be efficient, wouldn’t they have a hundred sorting hats and sort lots of people simultaneously? They really must have a lot of time to sit there waiting for hundreds of people to be sorted, or else there really are only a very small number of people attending this school. So, maybe the population is extremely small.

But still, the muggle population is huge. If this were real, there would be a lot more interaction and (unknowing) cooperation between Muggles and wizards. Wizards would buy and use lots of Muggle technology and just add magic to it. In the real world, even if some kind of technology is poor quality garbage, we buy it anyway because it’s cheap – like all this crap we’re buying from China (no offense, China, it’s not your fault). We buy this crappy garbage from China, instead of building our own factories to make higher quality durable goods, because that garbage is cheap. It costs a lot to run a factory, and the business environment in the USA is hostile to factories – you have to obey all these rules and regulations, which makes everything extremely expensive to produce. So it’s cheaper to employ a bunch of Chinese slaves.

Well, it would be like that with wizards. Sure, if you buy
wizard-made handcrafted magic items, they will be high quality and they will function well. But why not just buy the thousands of cheap, easily available, plentiful Muggle technology devices instead? Why buy only from wizards when Muggles are able to produce something similar, just non-magical and maybe not as good quality? There would be a lot more everyday use of Muggle products and services if this were real, just because Muggle products are cheap and plentiful and available everywhere, so it’s just less of a hassle to buy those things and use them instead of searching around to find expensive, high quality, hard-to-find magic items produced by an extremely tiny population of people who are scattered all around the planet and don’t live close to each other.

dreadlock combing, continued

June 24, 2014

I’ve combed almost all of the locks up to the mat at the base where all of them are connected into one big thing. That’s why it looks like my hair is in a ponytail. It’s not. That’s where all the hair comes together. Maybe it chose that particular location because I always have to put my hair into a ponytail or bun for work, or because I was always wearing one of those headbands to keep my ears warm in the winter. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

I’ve learned how dreadlocks work, and I consider myself an expert on *natural* dreadlocks. I am not an expert on ‘manicured’ dreadlocks or manmade dreadlocks. I know, for instance, that I would develop dreadlocks if I stopped using shampoo but continued to comb my hair. You could keep combing the ends of your hair forever, but the roots of your hair would form dreadlocks by themselves as the grease built up and made the roots stick together. You don’t have to worry at all about what happens to the ends of your hair because the ends have nothing to do with dreadlock formation. Only the roots closest to the scalp matter. That was how I made my locks, by quitting shampoo for many months while the roots gradually tangled together on their own.

I might possibly do another dreadlocks experiment someday and do it differently, I don’t know, but for now, I am removing them and I won’t stop until it’s done. I’d still like to learn about primitive hair care. How do primitive people prevent their hair from forming locks? Do they all wash their hair with ashes? Do some races form locks more easily than others? Does the amount of grease depend on your diet and your health somehow? I still have a lot of unanswered questions.

I’m starting work at McD this week. I’ll continue at TB.

on the ground, in the night, when the wolves are howling

June 23, 2014

I was riding my bike home tonight, and I stopped to listen. I could hear something howling far away across the farmer’s field, towards the mountain. Maybe it was a coyote. I don’t know what a coyote howl sounds like, so I’ll look it up on youtube. Maybe it was only a fox, but foxes usually sound much more high pitched than this.

I also heard some strange music, like a clock chiming, coming from a house nearby, and I listened for it but it did not chime again, and I didn’t figure out what it was.

I listened and listened to the howl. It howled quite a few times, far away in the darkness. I suddenly became aware that I was on the ground, on a bike, moving slowly up a long gentle hill, slowly pedaling home in the dark the way I always do. I suddenly knew I should not be on the ground in the night. I knew this instinctively. I just knew it was wrong to be on the ground in the night. I looked around me and was reassured to see many climbable trees. I could climb up any of them if a pack of wolves was attacking me.

I remembered that feeling from when I slept in the tent. I would hear animals walking around at night, often just deer, but sometimes bears. I always knew I could climb up a tree if I had to. The tent was so vulnerable. It was on the ground. It kept me invisible, and I could hide in it if something was hunting. But if they really wanted to rip through it, they could. That’s why I always kept my spear nearby. My spear was just a thick stick with a couple of knives duct taped around the end of it. I did that on impulse one night when I got scared – I taped one knife to it, and then, on another night when I was even more scared again, I taped the second knife to the end of it, so it had several blades. One knife was actually sort of a swiss army knife, with multiple knives that folded out of it, so the spear had maybe three actual blades sticking out of it. I always kept it near the tent, and if I was really scared, I kept it inside the tent – I just didn’t want it inside because the stick often had bugs and stuff on it that would then crawl around in the tent.

But my instincts know that if I am ever in danger, I must climb a tree, and I should not be on the ground at night. In the jungle, leopards and other predatory cats prowl the ground at night, and they will kill you if they find you. If you climb a tree, not only is it hard for them to reach you, but also you have sticks all around you, and you can break off a branch and use it to poke the animal if it tries to jump or climb up to get you. Not all trees are easy to climb. Tonight, I was surrounded by low, cone shaped pine trees, the kind with branches all the way to the ground, and I just recently climbed one of those to put the baby bird back (yes, it gave me bird mites). I knew I could climb one if I had to.

But I just stood there listening, and then just went on home the rest of the way. Now I need to try listening to various animals on youtube to see what it was that was howling, if it was a coyote.

I thought that ‘on the ground, in the night, when the wolves are howling’ sounded very rhythmic and poetic and would make a good chant or a good song.

a bit better today

June 22, 2014

I’m pretty sure I had a bad mood because of PMS. I felt better yesterday after I started my period. Also, for some reason, I wanted to drink tons and tons of caffeine again, and caffeine cheers me up too. I haven’t had as much milk or cream in the past couple days.

I have been combing my dreadlocks as fast as I can. I’ve made a lot of progress, but I still haven’t broken into the one giant mat at the base of all the locks. I’ve just gotten a couple of locks up close to the mat, and when they get there, it’s extremely dense hair that is very hard to comb and it takes forever. So I worked on easier locks instead. I’ll get all the easy stuff done, and when all of them are combed up as high as they can go, I’ll have no choice but to work on the hardest parts of the hair.

This is how I am wasting my time, and I apologize for this.

I have to go to work now. Hopefully, this week I will start working at McD again, if all goes well. I’m cutting my hours at TB. I’m sad that I won’t be seeing some of the people I really like there – and that even includes those IEIs that I am always complaining about (the superego socionic relations). I love them too. But I just don’t like that whole corporation and everything about it. I dread going in to work every day. I’m about to go right now, I’m just procrastinating.

some sort of anxiety attack; I went to the McD meeting; time is passing slowly; I will get through this, I will

June 20, 2014

3:09 PM 6/20/2014

I made it to the McD meeting. It didn’t take too long, and it was okay. I was glad to see everyone again. I didn’t see everyone, because there was another meeting earlier this morning, and the other people went to that one.

It is bright and sunny and warm outside, but I feel I am having something like a panic attack. I feel despair, and sadness, anxiety, and a desire to just go home, curl up in bed, and cry. I’m home now. I actually rode my bike down to McD, then rode back home after the meeting, even though, in just a little while, I will have to ride back down again to go to TB. I just wanted to get home. I really, really just wanted to go home, and that’s all I wanted.

I’m not having an attack of terror, not like that – my heart’s not pounding, I’m not full of adrenaline. I just feel… afraid, lost, alone, sad, scared. I really hope that I’m not getting
antidepressants on my TB uniform from being around that other lady – I only worked with her that one day so far, but I’ll be working with her again. If I fall apart and go to pieces every week because of exposure to antidepressants followed by withdrawal, my life will be even more of a mess than it is now.

I thought I saw a mulberry tree as I was riding my bike down the hill, and on the way home, I confirmed it – there is indeed a mulberry tree along the bike path, near Jesse’s church, in that general area. It’s on the way up the hill before you reach the church. The tree is in full sunlight, by itself, and covered with millions upon millions of ripe mulberries that nobody is picking. They are falling all over the ground. I stopped and I ate a couple handfuls of them. They’re almost tasteless, actually, with sort of a weird rubbery texture.

However, I think mulberries might make me lose my teeth, just like blueberries. I had a suspicious problem with one of my teeth today, but nothing happened – it just felt weird. I have had weird feelings from that tooth before, as though it’s about to fall out. It’s one of my lower fangs. They moved it really far into a different position when I got braces, so it’s not where it was meant to be, so it’s weaker and vulnerable, with an exposed root. Braces are really, really bad for your roots and your gumline. I had no choice about getting braces.

I wish I could call off sick today from TB, but I’m going to go in. I feel like I just need to sit at home and really think about things, and make up my mind to do something. I want to plan my future. I want to make decisions. I want to *do* something. I really hope I’m not having some kind of antidepressant reaction. The ‘demon’ incident the other night was totally an antidepressant withdrawal reaction. I was in terror and I had all the withdrawal sensations that I remembered – it wasn’t as severe, and I didn’t have electrical shocks running up and down my whole body like after I took Prozac – but the fear and terror, the weird illusions, and the need to turn on the light and sleep with the light on – that was all familiar to me.

The new McD is not that bad! I am pleasantly surprised. It has earth tone colors, and I love earth tones. I was expecting it to be cold and horrible and garish and modern. But no, we got 1970s earth tones, orange and green and sky blue. Very nice actually. It truly is not as horrible as I was expecting. I think I will be able to tolerate working there. But no more playplace for the children! Y u no build playplace??? I liked the playplace, and so did everyone else!

I’ve been complaining about the synthetic vitamin D in my milk, without talking much about the synthetic vitamin A. Just now I was noticing that I was farsighted, unable to see something that was close to my face, and wondered what was messing up my eyes. Probably synthetic vitamin A. I need to do more research. Both of the synthetic versions of those vitamins are toxic. They *might possibly* be better than no vitamins at all, maybe, if you were starving on a desert island and had nothing to eat but a pile of sugar, a pile of white flour, and some synthetic vitamin pills.

I just have this unexplainable fear, and grief, and sadness, and I know this has to be some kind of hormonal thing or antidepressant thing – but it’s just… this feeling that something is about to change, or I’m losing Jesse, or I’m alone… or my life is being wasted… or we’re about to reach the summer solstice, and we will begin to lose the daylight again.

I know we will start losing our light soon. And then I will know that another year has passed and has been wasted, and I have made no progress, but have instead just struggled to barely survive. I hate it when we pass the summer solstice. I hate knowing that the light will be lost and it’s all downhill from here. The summer solstice always reminds me that I’d better hurry, that I have stuff to do, that I have limited time, hurry hurry hurry – I must be wanting to prepare for the winter. Gather all the mulberries now while you can, and dry them out and put them in storage. Gather every single one from the entire tree, and gather the rotting ones off the ground around the tree. Gather it all, eat it, dry it, store it, keep it, because you are running out of time. I just have this fear… something is about to change, something will be lost, my life path will be determined, my fate, my future – something. It scares me and saddens me.

I hope that I am not about to lose one of my parents or something. And I do miss my parents, and I wanted to go down and visit them, but I haven’t made a request for a vacation yet, and I might have trouble with money if I do request a couple weeks off to go to WV. I’m afraid my mom will die. I wish she would quit all her drugs. I want to see my mom. I have nothing to show her. I cannot happily show her that I am pregnant, or that I have a husband and soulmate that I want her to meet. I can only say, I’ve been walking through this desert, this long hopeless desert, trying to do some things I need to do, trying to get somewhere, and I’m not there yet.

I actually talked to my mom about this. She says that she isn’t pushing me to have babies. I know she isn’t pushing me to do it. I just want to show her. I feel that it will make her happy, even though she doesn’t know it will make her happy. She loves children. She will love my children too, especially if I have a dual husband and my children are some kind of compatible type that everyone in my family will get along with (hopefully, children’s types are genetic and not just totally random, but many forum posters have typed their family members as random types with no genetic pattern).

My mom was kind of cynical about me having babies, about anybody having babies. She says she doesn’t like the world they will be born into. But I can see something different. I see intentional communities and alternative lifestyles that we didn’t know about a few decades ago. We didn’t have the internet, we didn’t know it was possible to eat special diets, we didn’t know about refusing to circumcise our sons, we didn’t know about intentional communities, we didn’t know about refusing vaccinations – so many things that destroyed our quality of life, we know about now, and we can prevent them. We know about homeschooling. We know to refuse all drugs. We know many causes of illness. I’ve learned things that will lead me to raise my kids differently than the way I was raised. I know things that give me hope for my children. I know about living off the grid, in an RV, or as a squatter on land I don’t own, or living in the Arctic north, or something, anything – I don’t have to be trapped here. I don’t have to rely on this economic system.

I also have hope with regard to environmentalism. I don’t necessarily see a more polluted world ahead. Maybe that’s Julian Simon I’m thinking of, since I read his book years ago, and he took an optimistic view. But it’s also because I don’t believe in corporate agriculture. We have all this plowed land full of corn because the government subsidizes corn, not because we actually need corn. Agriculture could be done very differently than it’s being done, and small groups of people are beginning to realize that. I’m still interested in anything that can be done under a forest canopy – it’s called ‘forest farming.’ I want these methods to have ‘high yield’ so they can compete against the corporate monocropping methods, but actually, I believe that the ‘high yield’ thing is a myth, something unnecessary, something we don’t have to worry about at all. We can make farm towers, for instance. I googled it, and saw an artist’s rendition of one design, and they showed these cows grazing in a grassy field on a tower – that would never happen in reality though – if someone did build a farm tower, it would just be full of subsidized monocrops, probably. No actual grazing animals. I can totally picture a farm tower with every level full of subsidized corn. The point is, we are not going to run out of surface area for our farmland. (I really like ‘sun pipes,’ where you make a hole with mirrors inside it to direct sunlight deep inside a building. That was part of the google searches that day.)

I also know about some really bad things in the future – electronic mind control. It’s actually been around for a very long time, and in a way, that’s kind of a good thing – let me explain. It has existed for a long time, but it hasn’t been used overtly and severely against everyone, and they’re scared that they can’t get away with that, so they have to do it secretly. A world of overt mind control, where everyone knows it’s real, where everyone is physically enslaved by it and prevented from rebelling, where mind control is confident and fearless and shows itself in broad daylight knowing that nobody can retaliate, nobody can defend themselves against it, and it makes everyone an overt slave – maybe that is in the future. Maybe, if they haven’t made it bold and overt yet, maybe that means that they’re not going to be overt about it for a very long time yet. Maybe there is still some hope of pseudo-freedom for some people for a while yet. Maybe there are still windows of opportunity.

I really am just having some kind of a breakdown today. I just want to curl up, and shake my head ‘no, no, no…’ I was a little sick this morning, with some diarrhea, and I thought I would vomit, but I didn’t. Maybe I have a virus today?

If I keep on having strange mood problems, I’m going to have to troubleshoot it – what is it, where is it coming from, is it the milk, is it drug residues on my uniform, is it something else – what is it? I hope I don’t keep having breakdowns.

It’s also partly because ‘they’ are allowing my Jesse delusion to collapse. They haven’t continued forcing me to go to church. I wouldn’t mind, actually, not that much – it’s okay. I am genuinely curious about church and would like to learn about it. But I only go when they strongly urge me to go, and when they lead me to believe that I will gain some kind of reward for doing so. Sometimes they lead me to believe that Jesse will call me, Jesse will visit me again, if only I do this or that. Sometimes they make me think that I’m on some kind of mission, like I have something I need to accomplish, some kind of ‘plan’ which is unfathomable to me, and they give me a feeling of trust when I follow their plan, a feeling that it will all be okay, and something good will come of this. They haven’t been giving me that belief as much with Jesse now – they are just kind of leaving it blank, so that here I am, and I’m not seeing Jesse, and not being urged very strongly to try to contact him, and not being given that feeling of faith that I will somehow be able to save him, somehow be able to help him, have a positive impact on him, love him, get him to quit the drugs, keep him out of the military, develop a strong relationship with him – instead, they allowed me to retype him as a non-dual, a very attractive non-dual, but still a non-dual.

They’re not trying to make me believe that he and I have a future together, now. So, I just sort of have no future at all. I don’t mean I’m going to drop dead, I just mean that I’m lost. I don’t know who I will love or where I will go, and it’s going to hurt so badly when I hear that Jesse went into the army and died. Or he went into the army, took even more drugs like everyone in the army always does (most of them are totally, completely drugged out of their mind, which enables them to commit horrific and disgusting crimes in foreign countries against innocent civilians for no reason), survived, came home, and then killed himself, which is something that drugged-up military veterans are doing all the time nowadays.

Time really does pass at different speeds on different days. It’s going thankfully slowly today. I keep looking at the time, feeling like it’s going slowly, feeling as though the clock must not have moved at all, and I look at the clock, and it really hasn’t moved. I have an old tracfone with a screen saver, and I chose the option to have the screen saver as an analog clock. I *strongly* prefer to look at analog clocks instead of just digital numbers. I can’t understand the meaning of numbers, but I understand what time it is if I see a visual shape. I used to do trigonometry the same way – I would draw little circles and cut it into pie slices and write in the numbers and go around the circle. I was really good at this, but it made it take longer than if I had just memorized things or done it the way other people did it. I always integrated visual models with mathematics, and I had a very hard time with certain types of algebra that were lacking a visual model. I mean, I was good at that math too, but it was much harder, and I was slightly weaker at it and didn’t understand the concepts as well. I loved calculus – it was very visual.

But I swear, I think it isn’t even just perception. I think it might be objectively true. It might be *real* that time passes slowly or quickly on some days. I’ve asked other people, do you feel like time is flying today? and they’ll say yes. Other people feel that time is flying at the same time that I feel like time is flying. Oh, it’s going to be awful at work though – I have to work from 5:00 PM till about 2:00 AM to close the store. Time will be *dragging* unbearably, and I’m going to go screaming insane. That makes me glad I’m going to be working at McD again! We have some slow times, but nowhere near as bad as TB.

Oh, the entire brand identity of TB needs to change, all the way down to the roots…. the whole corporate brand identity is the problem… Nobody wants to waste their money on a mouth full of lettuce, air, and a tiny nibble of meat. Nobody wants to wait fifteen minutes because everyone else in front of them in line had to order a hundred individual items because they’re trying to satisfy their hunger while eating lettuce and air. You have to eat five or six tacos to satisfy your hunger at all. It takes a long time for people to painstakingly assemble a hundred tacos. If you could only satisfy your hunger by eating one large high-calorie high-fat item, then it wouldn’t take so long to assemble, and we could make it faster, and nobody would wait in line for fifteen minutes. But no, we have to sell them one individual shred of lettuce at a time.

I’ve talked to people who agree with me and they say they are *never* satisfied with the food they eat there, never feel like it fills them up, you have to order a dozen items to even scratch the surface of feeling full, etc. This is not just me, this is the entire brand identity of this corporation. This is our official way of doing things, our official type of food, our official business strategy – to deliberately, consciously, and consistently fail to satisfy our customers’ hunger, to deliberately and consistently starve and frustrate our customers. People don’t like that! I’ll be glad to cut my hours there.

I need to get ready to leave. Time is merciful now, in the hours before work, during my panic attack, when I want to be at home by myself resting, but time will be cruel and merciless in its slowness during our boring endless hours at work. I must survive, I must get through this desert, this trudging, the wasted time, the fatigue, the internet addiction – I’ve got to do something… but I’ll wait. Maybe I’ll think about requesting a vacation to go to WV and see my parents.

Why do Chinese riot police have ‘SWAT’ written on the back of their uniforms?

June 20, 2014

Warning: horrific images of beatings and blood.

I was reading about drones. I just happened to see something in one of my news feeds about a drone copter, and I did some google searches. I ended up looking at an infowars article about something that happened in China, a riot where the crowds beat up the police officers.

http://www.infowars.com/chinese-citizens-beat-government-bureaucrats-during-mass-riot/

Scroll down through this page. Partway down the page, there is the image of a police officer with a sign on his back that has some Chinese lettering, and also the English letters ‘SWAT,’ as in, SWAT team – Special Weapons And Tactics. I started wondering: why are officers in CHINA calling themselves a ‘SWAT’ team – an English, American term?

I did a google search (‘what does “SWAT” stand for?’ because I knew it but I couldn’t remember) and saw one person saying that SWAT teams were part of the American police. That made me extremely suspicious – are American police taking over foreign countries? Is it actually the American police that are suppressing the Chinese people? Have ‘we’ (I disconnect myself from this ‘we’) already taken over China and we are now oppressing them, not just through the financial system, but physically with police? I felt this strong, intense suspicion and feeling of horror…

Then I did another google search, just for ‘SWAT team,’ and Wikipedia had a more reassuring message: ‘”SWAT” is commonly used internationally, as a colloquial, generic term for these units.’

However, nothing could change that moment when I experienced this moment of horrifying realization, a sudden understanding that maybe America had already taken over China and was now oppressing them violently with our SWAT teams. Wikipedia is untrustworthy and is well known to be edited by paid government trolls who sit there 24 hours a day editing pages and undoing anything that’s anti-government or non-mainstream or ‘unapproved’ information, especially any information about the drug companies. Could government shills be un-editing the wikipedia page to make it sound like ‘Oh, no big deal – it’s not actually American police in China, the term “SWAT team” just happens to be being used all over the world, la la la, everything’s fine, just sit back and watch your television.’ I know from Rick that the English language has already taken over the world, but even so… it made me extremely suspicious for a moment… and now I’m continuing to be suspicious… Why do they need English letters written on their jackets?

despair – a bad mood today – and the constant reminder ‘I’m almost there… almost there…’

June 20, 2014

9:46 AM 6/20/2014

I woke up this morning and I am in despair. I know I have PMS – that’s part of it. Part of it is because I was permitted to retype Jesse as an LIE; they’re not pushing the delusional behavior as much now, not pushing me to believe that I absolutely must contact him because he’s my soulmate and I absolutely must do anything in my power to save him, and all that. He is just very hard to contact, and his drugs disable him so that he isn’t able to care very much, and he is also probably a puppet as well. Any person who was non-drugged or on fewer drugs would be capable of responding at least a little bit, but the drugs make him completely numb most of the time.

Anyway, this is going to be a despairing blog.

I realize PMS is ‘nothing but hormones,’ but yet, it makes sense psychologically that being about to have my period would make me feel despair. It means that yet another month went by and I did not get pregnant because my life is still in a state of chaos. I still need to do several things to get ready. Yet I’m always grateful to have another period – I know that sounds silly, but I’m 39 and I’m about to go into menopause, and so when my period starts on time, as usual, I am actually a little bit happy about it. It means I am still fertile and I haven’t entered ‘perimenopause,’ the time period when you are gradually going into menopause and your period starts changing and becoming irregular.

I have to go to a mandatory meeting at McD later this afternoon, then go to work at TB. I hate days like that – I feel like all my time has been taken away, and I won’t have a life at all today. I’m going to be working two jobs, and I don’t know how the schedule is going to work out or whether I will be able to get the hours I want. I might have to compromise and work in a way that I don’t want to work, as in, spread out over many days of the week. I prefer to work two jobs intensely for a few days, then have a bunch of contiguous days off in a row.

I haven’t cooked any special foods or test foods in weeks. Know why? I’VE BEEN WORKING. I’ve been working five days a week at TB, and that means, no cooking! It’s just as bad as it’s always been. I can only cook when I have lots of days off. I’m eating some junk foods, ordering pizza, buying a little meal at Weis before going to TB, and stuff like that.

I’ve also been drinking tons of this organic half and half. They ran out of it at one store and so I got milk again, and instantly overnight got kidney stones again! Damn that vitamin D, I’m sure that’s what it is. I *really* am not getting stones from the non-fortified half and half. I only get it from the fortified milk. My stones aren’t severe, but I feel a dull pain in my lower back in the kidney area, which I have learned to recognize. I know I have to drink water, but even so, it shouldn’t be this bad. It is definitely being caused or accelerated by something unnatural, and vitamin D is known to cause kidney stones.

I remember a girl who no longer works at McD. She had severe kidney stones. It was one of those frustrating times when I’m *sure* I could have helped her if only I could have gotten her to listen to me and believe me. I stopped in at McD and was going to change clothes in the bathroom there after working a late night at TB (they’re right next door to each other, and it was often easier to just go over to change clothes at McD – hard to explain – bigger bathroom at McD, and they would be in a hurry to lock the doors and leave from TB). I saw this girl working her overnight shift. She was crying and in misery. I knew she often had kidney stones, because she had told me before.

She also had severe, noticeable Weston Price deformities, an extremely tiny face and skinny frame. So she probably had deformed kidneys too. She told me she’d often had kidney stones her entire life. But they got really bad sometimes. The doctor had told her to drink fluids. Guess what she was drinking lots and lots of, on that night when she was crying at work and in agonizing pain? *TEA*. That’s right, tea. A dehydrating, caffeinated fluid which worsens kidney stones. I tried to explain to her that her kidney stones would dissolve quickly in a short time if only she drank plain water, and nothing but plain water, plain water with nothing in it, no flavors, no soda, no juice, just plain tasteless water, not gatorade or any other ‘hydrating’ fluids, no sugar in it, no artificial sweeteners in it, no tea or herbal tea of any kind – absolutely nothing but plain water. I tried to emphasize this and make it clear. But the doctor had apparently just told her in a very general way ‘Drink lots of fluids’ and didn’t bother to clarify to her that it matters WHICH KIND of fluids you drink lots of, because some fluids make kidney stones worse. Drinking lots of the wrong kinds of fluids is disastrous. This is just another example of how stupid and incompetent most doctors are. She told me she was drinking tons and tons of tea, but the kidney stones were only getting worse.

I discovered the ‘drink plain water’ idea through a couple of experiences. First, I must *very* reluctantly give credit to Judith Swack, from my telephone therapy with her years ago. She was often telling me to drink plain water, because it helped with so many problems, and while we were doing our phone therapy, she would sometimes urge me to get a sip of water before continuing our therapy. It helps with things like being unable to cry and weep (although being unable to cry is also caused by antidepressants).

The reason I say ‘very reluctantly’ is because Judith Swack’s therapy was associated with my getting electronically attacked. I don’t know if she herself actually hires people to go out and attack her clients to convince them they’re having religious experiences, or if the people who were already attacking me just decided to make it more obvious because of the therapy. Either way, I didn’t like her therapy. She wouldn’t listen to me, wouldn’t listen to what I wanted to tell her, wouldn’t listen to what I wanted help with, wouldn’t listen to what I wanted to do and what goals I wanted to accomplish, and instead she wanted to take me down this predetermined path scenario where first we do this, then we do this, then we do this, and we have to do these little magic tricks to magically clear up this and that psychological problem, and so on. No actual discussion of what was bothering me and what I wanted to do about it. I just wanted to say, ‘I’m having this problem, and I wish that I could do X, but for some reason I can’t, or I’ve given up hope and I need encouragement,’ etc. Her therapy didn’t work that way. In fact, she physically interrupted me if I tried to talk and explain more than a couple words at a time, as though she was in a hurry and as though my two or three words were enough to tell her what my problem was. I know she was trying to be efficient and do telephone therapy quickly in a limited time. She believed that her techniques would get rapid results, but they absolutely did not.

She had too much faith in a technique which actually does work, and actually is a very good technique, which I still use sometimes. I learned about EFT/TFT years before doing her therapy – Emotional Freedom Techniques or Thought Field Therapy. I use that, and it works. It’s similar to acupressure. But its powers are exaggerated. It is not a miracle cure that many people make it out to be. The effects are temporary, and it is not able to completely change you into a different person, and it’s not able to completely overcome your natural personality tendencies and empower you to directly oppose everything about who you are. It does not enable you to completely control everything about yourself or go against your nature. And it cannot overcome the effects of electronic mind control. If you are being constantly zapped, you can’t focus enough to use the technique to really empower yourself.

So that was why she was in a hurry. She thought if she just got a general idea of what my problem was, we could just do some quick EFT tapping and get rid of it, easily and efficiently, but she used this method too much without integrating deeply any ideas that I needed to process. Her way of doing things did not work for me at all. I don’t know what personality type she was. She used the enneagram, and she was where I first learned about the enneagram. I don’t like the enneagram anymore. I won’t get into that today – I don’t have enough hours to explain all that’s wrong with the enneagram.

But she did urge me to drink sips of water, and that was one of the most valuable things I got from her therapy.

I’d had a problem in the past where I was going to work and then having such horrible abdominal gas pains that I would have to go home. I was in agonizing pain. I was drinking lots and lots of pear juice because I was trying the Feingold Diet, and pears are thought to be a fruit with less salicylate, and they are often better tolerated by people using the diet. It turns out the pear juice was giving me the horrible abdominal pains. I only found this out later when I got it again and had the abdominal pains again.

And this pear juice was meant for babies. I bought it in the baby food section! This is just another example where I say: Parents *MUST* try eating the food they give to their baby, before they give it to their baby, and yes, that even includes infant formulas like Similac. Everything you give to your baby, you must try it yourself first. If the food is disgusting to you, it’s disgusting to your baby. If the food makes YOU have horrifying gas cramps, then it will make your baby have horrifying gas cramps. The only way to know is to eat it yourself. But parents don’t bother drinking the pear juice before giving it to their babies, and then, when their babies are screaming their lungs out in agony, the stupid parents don’t know why. This angers me.

Adults must try an experiment where they themselves drink nothing but Similac for several weeks, and see how they feel. I’d like to do this experiment myself, except I know better! 🙂 I predict that it would cause many illnesses along with weight gain. And it would just make you sick and make you feel like crap overall.

And yes, that means that parents would also get kidney failure from melamine poisoning in the tainted infant formulas that killed their babies.

(Oh, that just reminded me. Have you seen the horrific chemical burns caused by disposable diapers lately? The diapers contain something that burns the baby’s skin. It burns it just by touching it. Stupid people think, ‘Oh, this is just a diaper rash. It just needs some antibiotic ointment.’ Meanwhile, IT’S A CHEMICAL BURN. The ointment does nothing. You can google photos! You will see baby butts and genitals, not safe for work. But, yet another reason never to use disposable diapers. I’m going to use something which I found out is called ‘elimination communication.’ You pay very close attention to your baby and you can see when they need to relieve themselves, and then you put them down on the ground or wherever. No diapers at all, neither disposable nor cloth diapers. Anyway, you can test this on yourself by wearing the diaper yourself or wrapping it on your own skin. People did this – they pressed the dry diaper against their own skin for hours and got chemical burns.)

After that pear juice incident, I noticed that actually, if I drank a lot of Coke, or if I drank a lot of other types of juice, sometimes it would give me abdominal pains. But the pain would rapidly go away in just a minute or two if only I would get a big drink of water. It was very fast acting. You just keep drinking more water until the pain goes away.

So I gave Judith Swack partial credit for reminding me that drinking plain water would often help with people’s problems. I was a caffeine drinker. If you do not drink caffeine, you don’t have as many of these problems because you are not constantly dehydrated. And then I had the experiences with the pear juice cramps (or cramps from too much Coke or other sodas) and found out that drinking water helped greatly with that.

Wow, I really went on a tangent. I was talking about the girl with kidney stones. It has to be absolutely plain water. What part of ‘plain water’ don’t we understand? People will inevitably start asking questions, ‘But what if this? What if that? Can I do X? Can I drink bottled water that has flavoring and artificial sweeteners in it? Can I drink juice? Can I drink Gatorade? Isn’t Gatorade supposed to be “hydrating”? Could I drink Pedialyte?’ The answers to those questions are no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no infinity. Plain water.

I am in despair over not being able to cook. I have just enough money to get by, but not enough to feel confident about going shopping and buying a bunch of stuff, until I get back to work at McD and have two jobs again. I’m so frustrated. I haven’t tested all the special foods that I want to try to eat to prepare for pregnancy. I haven’t tested the unusual diets like a ketogenic diet. Right now I’m testing the ‘drink tons and tons of pasteurized organic milk and cream’ diet. It’s working surprisingly well – I am *not* gaining a lot of fat. I gained just a little bit of fat, but it isn’t getting any worse. The fat isn’t getting added on rapidly, if at all – I might have reached a balance point where it’s not trying to add any more.

I am anxious about going to this meeting. I just don’t like knowing that I have to go somewhere sooner than I would like, and it will interfere with my afternoon, and I’ll ride my bike home, only to have to go right back out again, or else I’ll just have to go out and stay out there somewhere with nothing to do for a couple hours.

What else was I despairing about? I don’t remember. That was before I drank my coffee, and coffee cheers me up. I am still not trying to completely quit coffee. I am in despair over Jesse. I am in despair over not quitting caffeine yet. And about not cooking, and not having enough money. And I cannot see my future, whether I will learn primitive subsistence, hunting and gathering, or whether I will try to ‘get a better job,’ or start my own business. All of those things take time, and will take away from my time for having a baby. Being a hunter gatherer and having a baby go well together – you don’t have to be at a workplace. But my baby will need a social life with other children. I cannot just go alone into the woods with nothing but baby and mommy (I’m assuming that whoever the daddy is, he won’t want to marry me, so I’ll just have to get some sperm donor). That’s nice for a while, but the baby needs friends. I am in despair because all of my future pathways look impossible or unpleasant or unfulfilling. It looks like I will fail at everything I want to try, no matter which path I take.

I do not know what ‘they’ are going to force me to do with regard to Jesse. It hurts me so badly to imagine that he will continue to live life as a drugged zombie, then go into the military hoping to be killed in war. I genuinely have feelings for him. When I say that they’re forcing me to pursue him, I mean that 1. they force me to express emotions more openly, which is unnatural for me, and 2. they force me to keep trying when he doesn’t answer, when normally I would have given up. But my feelings for him and my attraction for him are real. I just wouldn’t keep pursuing in spite of obstacles. It would be best if we were working together at the same workplace and seeing each other physically every day in a situation where we inevitably would go, rather than having to call each other on the phone and ask the other person to join you somewhere, because he mostly can’t be reached by phone, or text, or email, but he is able to show up for work every day during the periods when he is feeling well. He has problems with frequent job losses due to his ‘mental illness,’ most of which is drug induced and would get better if he quit the drugs. He also does not like to be bossed around and doesn’t want to work for managers he doesn’t respect. He needs to work with people who respect *him* and who cooperate with him, alongside him, rather than just commanding him to do things.

I’m going to finish this up. I will probably think of more things to complain about. I’m not eating well. I have some pizza crusts left, I think, which is not a good breakfast, and some granola bars. I haven’t made good food. 😦

Is anything going to get better? It will be stressful and chaotic for a while as I start working two jobs again and changing my schedule, and I don’t know if I’ll have enough money. I’m just glad I’m cutting back at TB, even though I will miss the people I like there, because some things have been happening there – we have a new store manager – and she hasn’t settled in yet, and she seems to be going through a phase of wanting to change things and being all crazy and
super-controlling. I’m making it out to be worse than it is. There have just been a couple of incidents. I nearly went insane the other day when she wanted us all to detail-clean every inch of the entire store. She seemed to know in advance that I would not like this, and she assigned me only two very tiny trivial tasks, one of which had, strangely enough, already been done by somebody else. I’m pretty sure she knows I hate detail cleaning. But even just *watching* other people detail cleaning, watching them all stress out about it, watching the whole store turned upside down during our busiest rush while we were struggling to continue working around all this stuff that had all been moved out of place and was lying around in our way – I couldn’t stand it. Fortunately, I know that’s just a phase. I went through the same phase when I moved into this apartment – I cleaned the top of the stove, which was very unusual for me. It’s a person’s way of claiming their territory, by cleaning it, when they move into a new place.

But… will it get better? Will I make any progress in recovery? I’m still working on the tent. I went up there. I’m preparing to take stuff to the dumpster. Yes, if I can go to the tent again. Yes, if I can finish going through everything in the tent and getting rid of it to continue on my decon. Then, the unthinkable: moving away from this apartment that I like so much, because it has traces of ephedra on the floor, which are interfering with my quitting caffeine. I am so angry that I didn’t do the soil decon before they forced me to move here. Now I have to leave, and I really like it here. I actually am happy to be living on Waupelani Drive with all the foreign Penn State students, riding the R bus, seeing millions of Chinese people, Asians, and black people, and people of all kinds. This is an interesting place for me.

Oh well, I’ll go ahead and post this. Yes… I hate to say it, but it is going to get better. I’ve just said that so many times in the past. It’s like, I was in the middle of a desert, and I was walking through the desert and saying, ‘almost there… almost there…’ when I still had a thousand miles to go yet. Every day of my life, it’s like that. I must say ‘almost there,’ but in reality I am very, very far from my goal. I’m plowing ahead blindly through sheer brute force. Chronic fatigue, and being addicted to the internet, does not help. Enough for now….

Long rant. Retyping Jesse as an LIE; the bike motor smells horrible, stuff about Model B in socionics

June 19, 2014

1:31 PM 6/19/2014

One of the bags that the bear pulled out of the tent was the bag with the motor inside it. I had bought a gas powered bike motor last year, and was going to buy a bike that it would fit on, and make a motorized bike. My rationale for getting the gas powered one (actually, half oil, half gas) was because I didn’t have electricity, and because I could potentially go long distances. If you have a gas powered bike, you can go very long distances and stop at gas stations. If you have an electric bike, you can go small distances (or larger, if you add more and more battery power), then sit somewhere and wait for it to charge, somewhere with a plug, somewhere with a place for you to sit, like in a hotel. You can’t do that while camping. So, that means you can’t easily get on your electric bike and escape across the border to Canada or something. But you can on a gas powered one, because they will have gas stations anywhere they have roads, and you just have to fill it up with the oil/gas mix and keep going. Mixing the oil and gas would be a pain. I’ve never done that before.

But the motor was dragged out of the tent by the bear, and it got rained on. I did bring it home. All this week I just left it sitting, wet and soggy, in a garbage bag. It was actually inside about four garbage bags, not just one.

I remembered that it had smelled toxic and horrible when I had first opened it. I had been unable to complete the project of putting together the motorized bike when I first got the motor, for various reasons, and had intended to do it later at the right time.

But now, there are two things wrong. I opened it up today and looked at it. It is indeed all soggy with rain, and a few parts are rusted. Several people who owned this particular type of motor have said that when it gets wet, it dies, unless you protect a particular piece of it and seal it so the water can’t get in. This is a cheap, low quality motor, very unreliable, and I knew that when I bought it. So it probably will not work at all now.

Second, the horrible smell. I opened it in my apartment, and immediately some foul, evil, toxic, deadly, poisonous odor began to come off it. It was a petroleum-like odor, sort of like the bad smelling chemical that they put into natural gas so that you know when the gas is leaking in your house, because the gas itself doesn’t smell. It was like that.

The smell was so toxic that I began to feel like I wanted to just fall asleep and never wake up. I wanted to fall asleep and die. I couldn’t think. The smell made my brain shut down. I just sat there numbly staring into space. It was okay when it was enclosed in four garbage bags inside each other, and inside its cardboard box underneath all those bags, but when I opened up all that, and removed the soggy wet cardboard boxes and exposed all the unassembled motor parts, the evil poison came out again. It filled up the air in my apartment. I sat there, dying, drinking a cup of coffee, struggling to stay alive just enough to put some garbage bags back over the motor parts again. I had hoped I would be able to just leave it open and let it dry out, but no, that absolutely is *not* an option. I cannot leave it open. It is so toxic, it belongs in a garage or a shed, someplace with an air supply that is separate from the place where I have to live. I can imagine a hundred Chinese slaves dying of cancer to produce this motor. (It did come from China.) I don’t know if maybe they ran gas through it to test it before mailing it to me – it doesn’t really smell like gasoline though. It just smells a lot like the horrible odor they add to natural gas, or something similar, something indescribable and unnatural and deadly, something that will give me sleep apnea if I try to take a nap with that thing in the room.

Yesterday I took a walk. I went through Orchard Park, and found some mulberries and wild strawberries, which I was eating. I also nibbled on some more lamb’s quarters. On the way home, a guy drove up on a scooter. I knew him from when I used to work at Weis. He was a friend of Curtis, and he had a genetic disorder – I forget exactly what it is, but I could look it up – I think he has an XXY chromosome, or something – something about his chromosomes, so that he is infertile. It causes stunted growth and infertility, along with other problems. He also had Tourette’s syndrome, and he would walk around muttering angrily about niggers, and stuff like that – I usually couldn’t hear what he was saying, and he would apologize afterwards, because he couldn’t control it – he would be cursing, using racial slurs, and saying things that were offensive.

I didn’t know what type he was before, but when I talked to him yesterday, I instantly recognized him as an LIE. ‘They’ recently retyped Jesse as an LIE/ENTJ again. I believe supervision relations are attracted to each other because of the way I interpret Bukalov’s Model B in socionics. In real life, I often encounter Gamma NTs and am attracted to them and get along well with them, and they are more like ‘semi-duals.’ I’m also attracted to kindreds in the Alpha Quadra, and supervisions in both directions. I no longer agree with Model A and its explanation of the intertype relations. It’s right, within your quadra and your opposing quadra, but it’s wrong for the two quadras next to you. It doesn’t explain why supervisions are attractive.

Model B does. In a supervision, kindred, or business relation, you are attracted to somebody who has *one* (but not both) of the valued functions from your super-id. Model A says that this occurs with benefactors, semi-duals, and illusionaries, but I don’t experience that in real life. When I talk to those people (benefactors, etc), I feel my *mental* ring being triggered, and we have verbal discussions with each other, and share information verbally. If someone triggers your vital ring, however, you feel some kind of subconscious emotions, a mixture of love and hate, the feeling that someone is evil and attractive in some way (assuming they’re in the neighboring quadras and they have one valued function, and one disvalued function, in their ego). And you won’t necessarily say ‘evil,’ just maybe ‘boring’ or ‘ignored’ or ‘laughable.’ For example, I laugh at a lot of things my kindreds say, and I take it as a joke, but they really might not be joking.

Here is how a supervision works, according to my interpretation of Model B. I am the supervisor of the LIE/ENTJ. I like his creative function (+Ni/-Ne). I tend to ignore, or fail to appreciate, his base function (-Te/+Ti). I don’t respond properly when he uses that base function. He wants me to show some emotions, and I rarely do. He expects to receive -Fi/+Fe, and I can’t give that (except just barely, occasionally). But he appreciates my -Si/+Se, my base function, which is a valued function to him. It’s easier for me to use my base function, and harder for him to use his creative function, in order for us to enjoy each other. He has to work harder to get my love and approval and proper responses. I, however, can easily provide the valued function at all times.

The same would be true for an ESE/ESFJ supervising me. It’s an asymmetric relation, easier for one person than for the other. The ESE provides -Fe/+Fi easily and naturally and effortlessly, all the time, and I value that and respond to it. But it’s harder for me to use my +Te/-Ti, my creative function, which is slightly weaker. So it’s harder for me to do things that will get a positive response from the ESE. And yet, they vaguely know it’s there, they see it, they like it. In my real world experiences, supervisions in both directions are attractive. I seem to encounter Gamma NT males much more often than I encounter Delta NF males in the workplace. Delta NF males are living in some other universe somewhere, doing jobs that I can’t imagine. They don’t work in fast food restaurants.

This guy and I chatted for a couple minutes and then he left on his scooter. He said ‘Thank God I don’t need a license for this thing,’ or something like that, and I agreed. I like anything that you don’t need a license for, which is why I really, really wanted to have a motorized bike! I was glad to see that he was still alive and well. We worked together for a short time several years ago at Weis, and we bonded instantly and liked each other. I didn’t really want to have sex with him, and in fact I think he said he was gay, or maybe bisexual, and anyway he has the chromosome disorder that makes him infertile, so it’s not like I’m going to try to marry him and have kids with him. I’m just using him as an example to make the point that supervision relations are mutually attractive, although one person may feel less appreciated than the other due to the
asymmetrical nature of the socionic functions.

The Myers-Briggs people don’t know about half of the supervision relations. They recommend one particular group of supervisions, but not the other. Their rationale is: change every letter except the S/N, because intuitives and sensors are so far apart, in different universes, that they should just stay with their own kind. This is wrong and extremely bad advice that has been harming anyone who tries to use it as guidance for their relationships. You seek this kind of information because you want to know whether your relationship with a particular person HAS A FUTURE. Can you safely marry this person? Are you going to get along well when you live with each other and raise children, for decades? Socionic duals don’t always get along perfectly either, for many reasons, and Rick has talked about this in his socionist blog, but even so, a dual is what you are looking for.

Anyway, there is the ‘overlooked supervision,’ the other half of them, where you change every letter except the T/F. That’s me and the LIE. ISTP/ENTJ is a supervision, and so is ESFJ/ISTP. The Myers-Briggs crowd doesn’t appreciate the one where you change everything except the T/F. I am so glad I found out about socionics. It fixes just about everything. And Model B fixes even more things that are wrong, and helps to connect the two systems together, explaining *why* supervisions are attractive at all (even though they are not an ideal relationship).

I actually typed Jesse as an LIE in the first few minutes that I met him and we were talking together at work! That was my first typing! It was only later on that I decided he was an IEE instead, because he said something that I thought was showing strong ethics. I typed him LIE because I could sense his +Ni/-Ne and I found it attractive, and I detected his weakness of +Si/-Se (and I am attracted to that weakness – it makes me feel protective and useful to him). He said he wanted to become an engineer (something an LIE would do!) and he said he admired Bill Gates as a great philanthropist (Bill Gates is an LIE). I could not exactly pinpoint or describe ‘the moment when he was using -Te/+Ti,’ because for some reason, it’s just hard for me to see that when it’s happening. That is my disvalued 8th function. I fail to appreciate it when he thinks that way, which would make him always feel frustrated and unfulfilled by our relationship. An ESI/ISFJ, on the other hand, would be like, ‘Wow, you’re awesome for being able to think that way.’ They would naturally click together.

(I do have one example. One time, he said it would be great if we could find a way to prevent death – in general – the cure for death itself. That was when his grandmother was dying. That is -Te, a global goal, something to aim towards, without any specific details of how you would get there. When he said that, I became anxious, and I said something like, ‘Yeah, that would be a great thing to be able to do; I just feel like it would be really hard to get enough money and get enough people cooperating, and it takes a huge amount of resources to do something like that.’ -Te doesn’t care how much money it takes, and -Te is willing to borrow millions of dollars and go in debt and take HUGE financial risks to accomplish their global goals. That’s what they’re naturally good at – they are entrepreneurs. But it makes me nervous and uncomfortable, and I can’t provide the proper feedback for that. An LIE using -Te and becoming an entrepreneur can become a huge success, a multimillionaire or billionaire, and they will also have a lot of huge financial failures and bankruptcies and disasters along the way.)

Whenever the voices force me, as a puppet, to do something or say something to get his attention, they always force me to use my 4th vulnerable function, +Fe/-Fi. And it *does* get a response from him. But I cannot initiate using that function on my own – I only do it when they force me to.

If you are with somebody who’s in your vital ring, they will be happy about it if you even use your (one, or both) weak functions *at all*, even if you use them badly, awkwardly, and unnaturally, in a pathetic or childish way. For example, when I’m with LSIs/ISTJs in the workplace, they seem to like it if I express my simplified, childish emotions, in outbursts, like shouting ‘Woohoo!’ if I’m glad about something. I can tell that they like it, even though this is a pathetic and simplistic emotional outburst without any nuances or subtlety. It embarrasses me to do these things, and I feel like I’m ‘just joking’ when I do those things, but I learned how to do it over time, in my adulthood. I remember when I got older, in my late teens, in my college years, gradually and slowly learning how to conform to the norms of these emotional outbursts, and I could mimic them and do them in the most simplistic way possible. Anyway, they sense that this emotional outburst is somehow complementary and desirable to them, even though I’m doing it badly.

There was a time in my life when I wasn’t being attacked so badly, and I was gradually learning more nuances of emotional expressions and emotional self-acceptance. I was able to use my weak functions a little bit, and maybe I could use them relatively well. But now that I am being attacked, now that I never sleep, now that I’m on caffeine, now that I cannot read a book about self-esteem without being constantly tortured and harassed by murderers, it’s impossible for me to move any farther in my development of my emotional expressions. I only do it when the murderers force me to do it, in a fake and unnatural way, and I can only do the exact things that they force me to do. In the past, I actually could pay attention to my own emotions and express them, albeit slowly and carefully, and I could be self-accepting and sincere, able to directly express a weakness. I was overall more alert and more aware of myself, before I was being constantly attacked and tortured. I have absolutely no hope of doing that now.

What happened the last time I tried to read a book about self-esteem? I used to read Nathaniel Branden, for instance, and I tried to use it. But don’t try to do this while being a mind control slave. When I read that book during my time of torture and slavery, they would attack me constantly all day long, constantly nagging me to be absolutely 100% perfectionistic about my self-esteem and about my intuition. Did I look forward into the future to foresee the consequences of every single action I took all day long? Did I feel bad about myself if I failed to do so? If I even took the *slightest* action, no matter how trivial, they would nag me to foresee all the future consequences of that action, so that it was impossible to do anything at all. Basically, they tried to forcibly change my personality type into a Beta NF!

All day long, they would blast my brain with Nathaniel Branden’s sentence stems, over and over and over again. They would also blast my brain with these bullshit verbal ‘affirmations’ if I tried to do anything to improve my self-esteem. I don’t recall exactly what they said – it was a long time ago – but it was something along the lines of ‘Every day in every way, I am becoming a better and better person.’ That’s a real affirmation that some author somewhere recommended using. Well, it’s not very helpful to have a radio frequency weapon blasting this verbal sentence into your brain without making any meaningful connections to anything you do. I might as well be singing the alphabet or happy birthday, for all the meaning that it had. A radio frequency weapon blasting verbal phrases into your brain 24 hours a day does not cause you to actually understand, comprehend, or integrate the information contained in the sentence, which requires deep processing, not shallow verbal sounds.

It didn’t matter how trivial my actions were – they would try to force me to foresee the consequences of every tiny thing, and torture me, harass me, and nag me about it if I should take even the slightest, simplest action without foreseeing all its future consequences. If I laid the pencil down on the table here instead of there, if I folded a paper a certain way, if an object was in one location instead of another, I had to foresee all the future consequences of those things being where they were, of how this object would be used in the future, of whether my house was clean enough to facilitate doing chores in the future, of whether it would be easy to find something when I needed it in the future. I could never be sloppy or careless or hasty about the slightest, most trivial, most harmless and unimportant things, or they would nag me and torture me and blast my brain with sentence stems.

They, of course, didn’t *bother* to translate self-esteem into something which was compatible with my personality type, so that I could do things that improved the self-esteem of a SLI/ISTP instead of a Beta NF. They just used the ‘torture and destroy’ method of mind control – if someone doesn’t do EXACTLY what you force them to do, EVERY SECOND, then you must totally and completely destroy their entire soul for eternity, period, the end.

So I gave up on any attempts at self-analysis, self-understanding, self-therapy, self-improvement, self-esteem – even though I was sincerely very interested in those things years ago, and really really wanted to continue working on them and learning about them and looking inside myself. You’re not allowed to do such things as ‘looking inside yourself and questioning your own motives or finding out what you really want’ if you’re a mind control slave. That might make you say, ‘Gee, I don’t want to put up with this shit anymore!’ and you might walk out.

There are a LOT of potential ways that I could choose to ‘walk out’ of this situation, and every time I even begin to consider ‘walking out’ in any way whatsoever, the attacks slam down on me and destroy my brain.

They tell me that if they allowed me to ‘walk out’ in any way whatsoever, I might ‘commit suicide,’ which is untrue. I have no intention of committing suicide, but the voices justify what they are doing by telling me that that’s what I would do, as though they know me better than I know myself. I never had any intention of committing suicide, and I also wasn’t planning to be some kind of violent revolutionary either. I wanted to leave the area and go live independently somewhere and not be a slave to this economic system.

They do not value independence or freedom, and so they don’t want to let me just go and live my life alone – they think that’s too small and has too little social impact. They want to force me to ‘have an impact’ and ‘be famous’ and ‘make history’ in some way, rather than letting me just escape, leave this economy behind, and live a free peaceful life without being tortured and controlled. They *want* me to commit suicide or homicide, because those things have a bigger social impact than merely going away to some isolated place and living a free happy life till you die. Individual happiness has no social impact. It only benefits YOU, and a few other people who are happy along with you. People with a huge impact on society are NOT happy people living their own lives for the sake of their own happiness. They are miserable people who sacrifice all of themselves to have a social impact, and that is what the voices want to force me to do.

(That went off on a big tangent, and I went back up and inserted several paragraphs that took me away from what I was saying above.)

Reading Peter Breggin (EII/INFJ) reminds me about this again, my desire to understand myself, my motives, what I really want, my personal potential. He talks about empathic therapy or something – I forget the exact word (I didn’t look at the book today). It’s person-centered therapy. I *liked* that kind of thing years ago and really, really wanted to continue learning about it! I started college majoring in biology, and then I switched over to psychology, before switching to just general studies (I tried to have no major at all, in other words, just to graduate), and then dropping out of school completely. I was already being tortured and did not know it, and it made me unable to read books or focus on my homework.

I need someone who can remind me that I want my freedom and that I deserve my freedom, that I shouldn’t be a slave, that I don’t deserve to be a slave, that I have forgotten freedom, that I forgot how it feels, that I forgot that it’s possible. I don’t remember how it feels to think my own thoughts in peace in my mind, uninterrupted. I can only get a few little crumbs of this mind-state if, for instance, I go visit my parents in West Virginia, where my thinking is less badly interrupted. They do still attack me there, but the attacks are different when I go to other places. I could have a gas powered bike, and just ride away somewhere, and they would have trouble following me, which is why they forced the bear-puppet to rip open the tent and pull my motor outside so it got rained on and ruined. And now, they’re encouraging me to buy another motor, but not a gas powered one. They want me to have an electric one so that I will be handicapped if I try to travel. I will have to travel to hotels, which means I’ll be checking in someplace overnight and staying in an easy-to-reach location where they can continue following me and torturing me and controlling me and preventing me from escaping. If I had a gas powered bike, I could go long distances without ever sleeping at a hotel, and sleep in the woods in a tent, without charging my batteries. They destroyed the gas motor to cripple me and prevent me from traveling. And now they are urging me to replace it with a more obedient, more controllable electric bike motor instead. It’s easy to follow me when I’m forced to stop for hours and hours at a plug outlet every day.

I’m going to finish this up. I had a thought the other day, which, apparently, the voices found amusing. I said that yes, I originally typed Jesse LIE, then changed my mind a while later and said IEE; however, my retyping him as IEE was not what caused me to continue pursuing him all these months while he was reluctant, unwilling, and almost impossible to reach about 99% of the time, not answering calls and not writing letters. I didn’t do those things because I myself retyped him as an IEE. I did those things because they forced me to. My ‘funny thought’ was, Yes, I typed him as an IEE, but that doesn’t matter – it didn’t matter if I typed him as The Second Coming of Jesus Christ, that *still* wouldn’t have made me keep pursuing him when he didn’t want to be pursued and didn’t reciprocate. My incorrectly typing him as my dual was not the reason why I kept pursuing him. I could have typed him as my dual, I could have sincerely believed he was my dual, but in the real world, if I had kept trying to call him, kept emailing, kept texting, and got no reply whatsoever, I would have long since given up and stopped trying, regardless of whether he was my dual or Jesus Christ himself. My typing of him was unimportant and didn’t matter. What mattered was his real-world response to me, which was mostly lack of reciprocation. He enjoyed it when we were together, and in that way he reciprocated, but mostly, he just did not want to be bothered with spending time with me. I was forced to keep trying and trying and trying.

I think the moment when it departed from real-world behavior was probably the moment when I gave him the piece of paper with my contact information on it. He never contacted me. I got a pornographic spam letter which might have been a virus. I don’t know if he sent that or if the soul murderers sent it. But whatever, he never sent me a direct communication, even though I gave him my contact info. That would have been the moment when I would let go.

But they forced me to find him on facebook and tell him, ‘Oh no! I got a spam letter instead of a letter from you! Did you send me something and the hackers deleted it? The hackers delete letters and comments that are intended for me, and I don’t receive anything if it’s important, because they want to prevent me from connecting with like-minded people!’ That was, in effect, what I told him. I told him that hackers interfered with my online communications, and even my phone calls, and that if he tried to contact me, I didn’t get the message.

But he said no, he hadn’t tried to contact me – and that was ANOTHER moment when I would have let go FOR SURE in the real world if I were not being forced and controlled and made to (hopelessly) pursue him without reciprocation from him. I would have understood that the pornographic spam letter was just another form of torture and harassment from the soul murderers, and I would have understood that Jesse was not to blame for it, and so I would have walked away and let go. TO THIS DAY they still try to convince me that actually, Jesse himself sent the pornographic spam letter as a trojan to watch my computer because he was interested in me.

But I believe Jesse did not do that. Jesse has no feelings (*Edit:  Jesse himself described it that way!  I didn’t just deduce on my own that he has no feelings.  He *says* he has no feelings.  This is a typical drug-induced apathy and indifference.*), because he is a zombie on psychiatric drugs. He is unable to care about anything, and he expects that he is just going to go into the military and die, sometime in the future – he once told me he’s already enlisted and will go to start training next year. I tried to beg him not to go, to un-enlist, but I don’t know how to do that, but he never agreed to get out of it, and he still said he saw that as his future. He said he was a worthless person who deserved to die, and didn’t understand how I could possibly love him. Psychiatric drugs are the reason why he has no feelings and cannot live a full life. I imagine that he was simply apathetic about my giving him my contact info, and could not even care enough about me to send me a trojan email to spy on my computer, because even that would take too much effort and too much caring. So I don’t believe he did it. He is apathetic and does not care, and that is because of the drugs.

The book talks about how to gradually taper off the drugs so that you don’t have horrible withdrawal effects. Jesse himself told me that he quit his drugs cold turkey several years ago, then suddenly had a seizure. I assume he went back on his drugs. He once told me that he was still on drugs, but has, since then, claimed that he is *not* on drugs and hasn’t been on drugs for years. He knows I don’t like them and I’m sure that’s why he’s saying that, because I have experienced secondhand drug effects every time we’ve been together, and it makes me into a numb zombie who cares about nothing. I just sit there passively watching, and I lose my inhibitions.

Again, I don’t blame him for this – he is a victim of our society that drugs everyone everywhere for every little thing, and the withdrawal effects are life-threatening and deadly. You CANNOT quit these drugs cold turkey – you can DIE if you do that. He was adopted. I think he might have been adopted in his late childhood or early teens – I can’t get him to trust me enough to tell me about all of his personal history, and also, he has lost much of his memory because of drug poisoning, so a lot of his memories are vague and confused. People who go into foster care, and possibly people who go through the adoption process, tend to be drugged at extremely high rates. I’ve read articles about the scandalous amounts of psychiatric drugging of foster kids. Jesse wasn’t a foster kid as far as I know, but I suspect that going through the adoption process put him at risk of being drugged too.

He told me he had some kind of strange incident (in childhood), some breakdown where he wandered around and didn’t know where he was, and as a result, they diagnosed him with something and started giving him drugs. People do have unexplained breakdowns, and we can never gather enough information about the past, when nobody knew what to look for, so we don’t know what triggered it. Was he vaccinated? Was he exposed to a chemical in the environment? Did he just catch a virus and get sick? No one knows exactly what happened at that moment in his life to trigger some kind of breakdown. But it happened, and they drugged him for the rest of his life, and gave him a diagnosis of ‘Schizoaffective Disorder.’ Now, as a result of years of drugging since his childhood, he has no memory, and memory loss is one of the most common side effects of chronic drug poisoning. But he told me that his parents were thinking of taking him to the doctor to find out whether he had some kind of dementia. They didn’t understand that it was caused by drugs – they thought it was just some part of his disease. It is NOT just a disease that he ‘has’ all by himself. He does not ‘have’ this ‘disease.’ It is a side effect of chronic lifelong drug poisoning.

I wish that I could urge him to try again to taper off his drugs. I wish I could get his family to cooperate. He will need constant supervision. When you taper off drugs, even reducing your drug dose a *tiny* bit can trigger severe withdrawal symptoms. He might start to get angry over nothing, having rages and arguments, or he might have seizures, or who knows what, or heart attacks. Somebody needs to ask him how he’s feeling EVERY DAY. Someone needs to be able to reach him at all times to see if he’s acting any different, having weird sensations and weird moods, feeling sick or anxious or anything weird at all, because these things can quickly develop into a
life-threatening emergency.

I wish I could convince him to try. But we don’t have enough comfort and trust with each other; and recently, he apologized to me and said that he was always trying to avoid looking stupid, which was one reason why he avoided communicating with me. Apparently, I make him feel stupid. That was one reason why ‘they’ finally allowed me to retype him back to being an LIE instead of an IEE. It explains why I cannot appreciate him properly and give him the proper feedback to make him feel loved. I can’t boss him around and tell him all the details of how to taper off his drugs, cut the pills into quarters and take less of it every week, observe every detail of his physical sensations to notice what’s changing, and all that. We just aren’t able to cooperate with each other in such an intimate way. He doesn’t like to be bossed around and he doesn’t like to take suggestions from me. He might like the idea, but would go about it differently (for instance, quitting cold turkey, then having an emergency situation). I would get really upset about the way he was doing it, thinking that he has to be more careful about how he does it. See, I think he *did* try to quit his drugs, during the time when we knew each other, and I think he did it because of my suggestion. (I have to piece things together based on little hints he gives me, because he doesn’t tell me much about his life in detail.) But I never suggested that he quit suddenly and cold turkey and then have seizures or suicide attempts or whatever. I absolutely do not want him to die or be in danger in any way whatsoever. It can be done, I just want him to do it VERY CAREFULLY!

It’s frustrating – this is definitely a supervision relationship, where I do care about him, and he does care about me, somewhat, and he likes me and reciprocates during the times when we are together – but I cannot just boss him around and make him do everything in the exact way that I think he should do it, and he cannot take particular suggestions from me, suggestions about how to do it. There are limits on how we can cooperate with each other.

Darn it, I said I was going to finish up this blog. I haven’t really eaten enough today. I’m grouchy and I have PMS. That’s part of why I’m sitting here complaining for hours. I need to start getting ready to go to work.

I do care about Jesse. I want him to live. I want him to love. I want him to be happy. I want him to meet his socionic duals, because they can give him things that I cannot give him. I want him to be safe and healthy. I *don’t* want him to go into the military and die. I don’t want him to be a drugged, lifeless zombie for the rest of his life. I don’t want him to have deadly incidents during withdrawal if he quits his drugs. But I can’t control him and I can’t boss him around, and it’s very hard for us to communicate and cooperate with each other. And they *finally* allowed me to retype him as an LIE, which makes it easier for me to understand what’s going on. They knew he was an LIE all along, of course, but forced me to keep pursuing him in those moments when I would have given up, when he didn’t answer, didn’t reply, didn’t call, because he wasn’t interested. It’s not natural for him to keep pushing to have a relationship with me, and it’s not natural for me to keep pushing to have a relationship with him, even though we are attracted to each other and, according to Model B, we are in each other’s vital rings and have one valued super-id function for each other. We would only be together if, for instance, we worked together and saw each other in the workplace every day, and if, for some odd reason, there weren’t enough female ESIs (one of the MOST COMMON personality types – they’re EVERYWHERE! he will have NO TROUBLE finding duals!) around to keep him company. The two most common personality types are ESI and LSI, which is why the world is the way it is, and why those two types are the happiest and most fulfilled and have what they want, while all the other types suffer and don’t have the type of world they want, and all the other types are a political minority with no political power. But that’s another story.

I’ve got to get ready for work. I need to eat something too.

I made it up to the tent

June 18, 2014

I didn’t do much before I ran out of willpower. I bagged up some things that I am going to get rid of, then put the bags back into the tent. I didn’t take them down to the dumpster yet. I got something I wanted to bring home, and I took a cab home. The storm on the radar wasn’t even close yet, and it’s still several hours in the future. I was afraid I’d go up there and the storm would start, but it’s still bright and sunny and breezy outside right now.

I’ve gotten a little bit of poison ivy on me, even though I didn’t see any anywhere near where I walked. Now I’m itching in a couple places on my arms.

No big deal, this tent cleanup is recovery progress. I will want to go up there again and bring trash down to the dumpster, but I usually use my bike for that. I hang the bags on the bike handlebars, or just pile them up on the bike, and wheel it down. Bringing my bike up there is a longer project than taking a cab up there. I have to either ride my bike over there or take the buses. I’m not doing that today before a monster storm.

Artist’s rendition of the bed-blanket demon

June 18, 2014

I know this is going to kind of ‘spoil the fun,’ and it’s a bit disappointing, but I have to demonstrate how the blankets were doing what they did. It’s not just a normal blanket, it’s one of my sleeping bags. So it is more firm and fluffy and light than a normal blanket. A normal blanket would be heavy and would sink down with its own weight. A sleeping bag is capable of piling up into a tall shape like what I saw in the night. I took this photo just now to demonstrate how my blanket is able to pile up like that. It didn’t look exactly like this, it was more narrow and pointed and looked more like somebody standing at the end of the bed looking at me. When you’re in drug withdrawal and the lights are off, this is fucking scary as shit. It looks fine now in the daytime when I’m just doing a demonstration (‘demon’-stration?).

A demon was in my bedroom last night

June 18, 2014

11:36 AM 6/18/2014

Last night I suddenly went into antidepressant withdrawal for no reason. I haven’t been taking antidepressants. I had to wrack my brain trying to figure out how the hell I had been exposed to antidepressants sometime in the past few days. I wondered if Lamb’s Quarters was an antidepressant, like St. John’s Wort. Maybe it is. I ate that a few days ago. But I also suspect that I was exposed to transdermal antidepressants by being around a coworker who started working the evening shift with us. She uses drugs, and she wasn’t normally ever working with us before, so I was never around her. (I know she uses drugs, because she has talked about it openly several times.) I still don’t know for sure how I got exposed to antidepressants. I will test some more lamb’s quarters in the future and see if I then go into antidepressant withdrawal a couple days later.

Last night, there was a demon in my bedroom. That happened before when I went into withdrawal from Prozac, when I actually was on the drug for real years ago. This time, I first saw the demon when I woke up and looked down at the end of the bed. The blankets were standing up at the end of the bed as though something was underneath them, in a pointed shape. I kicked the blankets in a panic, trying to knock it down, and it kind of knocked down the piled-up blanket, but not really, and it was still kind of bent upwards like that. I kicked the blankets all around again, frantically trying to knock down the blanket which had somehow been moved up into that position. The blanket shouldn’t have done that. It scared the living shit out of me. I felt like something was in the room with me.

When I went into Prozac withdrawal, I also had a bed-related demonic incident. Let’s see, I’m trying to remember exactly what happened. If I recall correctly, something either got into the bed with me under the blankets, or else something was lifting the blankets up off me while I was lying in bed. That’s it – I was lying in bed, and somebody started pulling the blankets down off my body, towards my feet. I had to grab the blanket and hold it to keep it from being pulled down towards my feet. I remember this really *happening*, not as a hallucination.

Just like last night, I recall this *happening*, and it had nothing to distinguish it as being different from reality. It had no resemblance to a dream. When I wake up from a dream, I know it was a dream, and it looks and feels different from reality. I’m remembering these ‘demon in the bed’ incidents smoothly connected to reality, with no ‘waking up’ moment to make me realize that it didn’t actually happen that way. It happened, and then reality kept on going as normal, without a wakeup.

Also, when I was in Prozac withdrawal before, light bulbs would constantly burn out anytime I was nearby. They would just pop and explode inside and burn out. However, that kind of thing can be electronic harassment. They use VLF waves, very low frequency radio waves, which automatically transduce into sound waves when they hit particular objects, making a ‘clink’ sound or little clicking noises on objects in the room around you. They can do that to the fragile little filament in an incandescent bulb, and it will break if it’s about ready to break on its own.

How much of this is caused by electronic harassment – humans using weapons – and how much of it is a withdrawal-induced hallucination, and how much of it is an actual ‘paranormal’ incident? I really don’t know. I do not have the necessary equipment to monitor and record these events while they happen, and then interpret them, saying ‘okay, a radio wave came from this direction, and it originated right here in this location, in the middle of thin air where the demon was standing,’ or whatever. Or ‘a radio wave came from over the mountain there, where a car was parked with a person inside it shooting a radar gun at me and laughing his ass off because we all know it’s just hilariously funny to torture people in the middle of the night when they’re in withdrawal from antidepressants.’ Either way, I can’t gather that information, I can only observe it.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep last night, but could not. The supernatural terror lingered. I saw horrific faces when I closed my eyes. That would have been caused by electronic harassment, because they make me see images all the time. But they don’t normally make my bed covers rise up in a tall pile at the end of the bed so it looks like either something is under the blankets, or the blankets themselves are a person standing there looking at me, which was what I thought originally when I first looked up and saw a tall object at the end of the bed. Extremely weird shit like that only happens when I am in withdrawal from strong antidepressants.

I turned on the light, and slept with the light on. That also typically happens when I am in withdrawal from antidepressants. I absolutely could not and would not sleep with that demon in the room with the lights off. As soon as I turned the light on, it got better. I finally turned off the light when the sun was rising at dawn.

I’m wondering now if my ‘disinhibition,’ my allowing all my coworkers to bump into me and touch me, my mellowness and lack of apology, weren’t merely caused by drinking cream instead of coffee and greatly reducing my caffeine intake. Maybe I had already been exposed to the antidepressants at that time. I have a bad memory, and I don’t remember if the drug-using coworker was there that night. I think she was, actually. But I’m not certain.

‘Disinhibition’ is a word I got from Peter Breggin’s book. It’s like being drunk – you lose your inhibitions and do things you wouldn’t normally do. He gave an example of a woman who got on
antidepressants, became manic, and had an affair with a guy, even though she was married. She wouldn’t normally do that. It was the drugs. She lost her inhibitions and didn’t care what she was doing because of the drug-induced mania. She ended up getting a divorce because of that, and wanting to kill herself. The drugs ruined her life. But nobody recognized that the drugs were causing mania and her behavior wasn’t her fault.

I totally agree with this book, except for a few things, which actually are non-minor details. One big thing: Peter Breggin is an old guy. He doesn’t know that electronic weapons really exist. He still believes that if you hear voices, the voices are psychological and they come from within you and can be treated
psychotherapeutically. You can talk to the voices, tell them to shut up, and all that, and they eventually will leave you alone. He is mistaken about this, but he’s old and probably about to die and there’s no use trying to convince him that actually voices are caused by people attacking you with electronic weapons. I’d have to convince him of the huge theory behind it: that there is an enormous system, a huge group of people, who get paid to sit around and do nothing but torture innocent people for no reason all day long, just because they can.

That’s not easy for most people to believe. You don’t just tell them that and they say, ‘Oh, okay. So that’s how it is!’ No, people do not change their minds easily about this. They want to believe that the vast majority of people out there are good, innocent people who don’t go around forming huge, powerful, wealthy, influential groups that have all the money (stolen from productive people), resources, and technology needed to sit around 24 hours a day torturing people just because they can. That concept is beyond most people’s imaginations. It traumatizes them very badly when they accept this truth. They will continue to deny it and view it as a delusional conspiracy theory, rather than having the courage to accept the fact that actually, there really are huge groups of evil people ganging up on us and hurting us and ruining our lives, and at this particular moment, I personally can’t do anything to make them stop doing it.

I was hoping to go up to the tent, but it says ‘dangerous
thunderstorm’ on the weather. I always hated being up on the mountain in a thunderstorm. That was one reason why I kept spending money to go to the hotel. Thunderstorms were the one thing that I absolutely could not tolerate about living outdoors. Living outdoors in the WINTER was easier than sleeping in a thunderstorm. Riding my bike along the edge of a deadly, snowy road that was still being plowed? Easy, compared to sleeping in a thunderstorm in the tent. The winter was actually peaceful and easy compared to the summertime, and I always feel like nobody will believe me if I mention to them that I was actually camping up on the mountain all winter long, easily, but then decided to leave the mountain right when it started getting warmer in the spring. Spring and summer are worse in some ways. In the spring it rains a lot, and rain makes trees fall – another reason not to sleep in the tent. In the summer we have thunder and lightning, which are absolutely intolerable. So I’d be going to the hotel the most during the warmer seasons. But in the dead of winter, in the darkest, coldest, iciest, most bitter cold season of the year, it was actually easy for me – no rain, no falling trees, no lightning. It was quiet and peaceful. People always think that the winter was the hardest.

I might try to go to the tent anyway. I’ll just come back down if the thunderstorm starts.

Psychiatric Drug Withdrawal book – great so far

June 17, 2014

3:44 PM 6/17/2014

I did a google search for pregnancy porn out of curiosity. First I read an article about the reality behind porn – the constant fear of getting an STD, the abuse, drug addiction, etc. I looked at some images in the google image search. I could see through the
expressions on their faces, the fake facial expression that actually shows strain, discomfort, unhappiness, disgust underneath. I can see that they’re not enjoying it. How does anyone overlook that underlying facial expression? How can anyone not see that this person is miserable while making porn? You can clearly see that they are putting on a fake smile, or a fake expression of desire and enjoyment, while actually feeling miserable and uncomfortable. How can it be arousing to look at a miserable, uncomfortable person? Maybe other people just don’t have good eyesight. Or they don’t look at any of their faces.

But the birthing videos on youtube are not like that. These are real women videotaping themselves for free, because they want to. They have control over the situation. Maybe they are in pain, but it is a pain they have chosen to accept and to rise above. I’ve read about people having orgasms during birth, but it may not be something that happens to everyone, and I suspect it might be drug-induced. Still, it makes sense physiologically to have orgasms during birth, because the muscle movements would help push the baby out.

I didn’t go to the tent yet. I picked up the book at the UPS Store. I walked into town and got food and read the book while waiting for the bus. By the time I got home I was tired and didn’t want to go back out. I might have to do it tomorrow. I don’t know if I can do it this evening.

This book is *really* good. Peter Breggin talks in detail about what happens when you withdraw from different psychiatric drugs, or groups of drugs combined, and he talks about individual cases that he has worked with and how they went. It’s horrifying how many people get diagnosed with things like ‘major depressive disorder’ when all that happened was a traumatic life event, like a death or a divorce. If you think of a ‘disorder,’ you think of something chronic that they have all their life, some illness that they always have, NOT something which results from a traumatic life event. But over and over, people get these drugs just because they have temporary personal problems or traumas, and they are on the drugs forever when all they needed was help to get through a crisis. This book is GREAT. I wish I could build a drug withdrawal center, hire some doctors, tell them what to do, and then start bringing in as many people as possible.

He talks about the lack of self-control and lack of self-awareness caused by the drugs. It’s called ‘medication spellbinding.’ You forget who you are, you forget that anything matters, you don’t see how badly you’re affected by the drugs, and even if you do see it, you stop caring and don’t want to do anything about it. People just lose themselves in the drugs.

I have a different focus or specialization, which is complementary to Breggin’s specialization. I specialize in knowing about which types of chemicals, poisons, foods, environmental pollution, and so on can trigger people to get sick or have mood problems, and that includes drug residue contamination on belongings and in houses. He doesn’t know about contamination.

I suspect that people who have chronic problems after quitting drugs might actually be suffering from contamination, and they would be helped by decontamination, going away from home, putting on brand new clothing, using brand new belongings, living in a tent, going to a hotel, and so on. Anything to get away from the contamination. There might be some people who have permanent injuries from the drugs, but perhaps there is hope for a lot of people, more than we realize, to completely get over their symptoms forever – if they make a major sacrifice, and get rid of everything contaminated. It is a huge and horrible sacrifice, but if you want to live badly enough, it might be worth it.

I did my own decon thinking of my future children, who need to be protected against the contaminants. During the most painful moments of getting rid of my belongings or throwing things in the garbage, I reminded myself that my future children were more important than these inanimate objects. It only seems like objects have feelings, but real people actually do have feelings, and they matter more.

Effects of all this milk drinking

June 17, 2014

11:18 AM 6/17/2014

I had a symptom today which I believe was from the cream, but it was slightly spoiled cream. Yesterday I decided to buy the bent and damaged box on the shelf. I opened it, and it smelled the teensiest bit sour, but actually less sour than the ‘normal’ milk always smells nowadays at the grocery store – I had incidents in the past of buying normal milk and it was sour already on the first day I opened it due to mishandling at the store.

I drank this cream, and felt only a tiny bit weird afterwards, but not really terrible, so I continued drinking it last night at work. The box must have been slightly opened when it got bent and crushed. The milk must have oxidized. Oxidized fats are bad for you. Later on when I took it home in my backpack, it leaked out around the little round removable cap when it was in a lying down position. But I didn’t notice anything severe during work last night, so it wasn’t affecting me too badly.

This morning when I got out of bed, I was falling over on my right leg. I would try to stand on it, then fall to the right, try to catch myself, and fall again. I didn’t fall all the way to the ground, I just stumbled.

Oxidized or spoiled fats are much worse for you than fresh fats that have been properly handled, stored, and prepared. I just wanted to test it and see. I wanted to buy the damaged one because no one else would, and it would be thrown away, but I think I won’t use the rest of it. I actually bought two at once, and the other one was undamaged, and I’ll be using that one today.

The kidney stone sensation has been reduced, although I still have a feeling of dull aching in my kidney area; however, I haven’t been drinking enough water while drinking all this milk and cream. You have to alternate it with plain water sometimes. But I am no longer getting the stabbing pains in my kidney area. I don’t know whether it was the Vitamin D in the other milk causing it, or the greater amount of protein (and dehydration) from the other milk.

But I was right, this half and half without added vitamins is either causing kidney stones less severely, or not causing them at all. I have never had severe kidney stones. I’ve only had ‘precursors’ to kidney stones. There are several sources on the internet that have given me a vague idea of how synthetic vitamin D might cause kidney stones.

This hormone-free milk isn’t causing the nymphomania that I used to get from the normal milk in frappuccinos. (Omg! That word is impossible to type with dyslexia!) However, it is influencing my hormones more gradually, in a more natural way, along with my menstrual cycle. I am approaching menstruation right now, and felt a tiny bit of preliminary cramping the other day, but haven’t started yet, and often, that is the time of my cycle when I am very aroused. The milk intensified that.

So I have been doing strange things I don’t normally do at work. First, I’m using less caffeine – I drink no caffeine at all during the whole shift at work, as long as my cream is there for me to drink – this addiction substitution is *extremely* effective!!! Since I am using less caffeine, I am much slower, more mellow, less hasty, and more relaxed, although I’m also making stupid mistakes – probably due to the food sensitivity reactions (dyslexia) from the milk, combined with caffeine withdrawal. Second, my hormones are increasing more than usual.

The combination of being mellow and hormonal caused me to allow a close social distance that I do not normally allow. I automatically avoid touching people’s bodies, normally. As they approach, I automatically and involuntarily move myself out of the way, without even trying, without thinking about it, without doing it consciously. Last night, I was bumping into several different people, both male and female, sometimes by accident out of clumsiness, and sometimes out of affection and attraction. I have an LSE there who I am fond of, and I allowed him to stand very close to me and touch me while he was moving around. We were at the table making food. Normally, I would not let him bump into me. I was so mellow and trusting that I did not care and did not feel overwhelmed.

Sometimes, if someone stands close to me, it’s like… energy resonance. I get overloaded with a loud volume of energy, somehow. My circuits fry. I can feel the energy of someone else’s body in my physical space, and when I feel that energy, I automatically back away just an inch or two to reduce the loud noise.

But I was mellow and relaxed, and my hormones were increased, and so I wasn’t bothered by the energy, and I allowed people into my physical space, several people, and accidentally bumped others when I normally would have made a great effort to avoid bumping them, and didn’t apologize afterwards when normally I would say ‘sorry.’

I am a touch-deprived person. I have read about touch deprivation. Some cultures touch more than others. I seem to have been raised in a region, or a family, where touching people affectionately is frowned upon or taboo. I especially don’t touch women. I only touch people if I am going to have sex with them.

Any kind of touch at all is viewed as extremely serious, a major commitment, an extremely big deal. I cannot touch people casually or easily in a friendly way, without meaning anything by it. If I touch someone, it means that I am inviting them into a serious long term relationship with me (normally). Or, it means that I’m on drugs, because the drugs reduce my inhibitions, and I touch people
inappropriately, and accidentally lead people on. That happened all the time when I was on drugs – I would make people believe I was attracted to them when I wasn’t.

But the combination of caffeine reduction (less stress, less fatigue) and hormone increase caused me to touch almost everybody there last night at least once.

I am *definitely* becoming fat. I am not really worried about this. It will vanish instantly as soon as I quit drinking a whole carton of cream every day! I have noticed that I am ‘fat and happy.’ When I was in college, I gained a ton of weight and went up to almost 150 pounds (I’m 5 foot 2) when I was drinking a glass of whole milk in the cafeteria with every meal. As soon as I quit drinking that, the weight vanished by itself. But I remember I was a happy fat person. I feel somehow more steady, more strong, and more loving when I am fat. Fat produces hormones. It is not just a passive bunch of cells that do nothing except store fat. Fat is unappreciated and
misunderstood. It is an organ, a living tissue that actively does things. I don’t know much about how it works. But I have that feeling again now, of being stronger and steadier, rather than frail and weak. I am also happier because of the caffeine reduction. I’m still drinking coffee every day, just not in the evenings at work. It’s actually *easy* to not drink coffee at work when I have that carton of cream to drink.

This is definitely an addiction. I knew dairy products were an addiction many years ago when, for some reason (I forget why) I tried to stop eating all dairy products, including cheese, so I would order hamburgers instead of cheeseburgers at McD, and that kind of thing. I did it, but I really noticed that something was *missing* when I stopped eating milk and cheese. Food was just not enjoyable at all. I have learned that there are opioid proteins in cheese that cause a very strong drug-like addiction. Cheese, in particular, has these opioid proteins even more than liquid milk does. Many people admit that they are addicted to cheese and aren’t ashamed of it – it isn’t viewed as a ‘bad’ addiction, unless you have any health problems caused by eating cheese and milk. It is a nourishing addiction that won’t kill you and isn’t illegal, but an addiction nonetheless.

I’m planning on going up to the tent today. I am so much less exhausted in the morning! If I don’t drink coffee all evening long, I don’t feel so horrible the next morning, and when I *do* drink a cup of coffee in the morning, it actually works. I used to be reaching that point where no matter how much coffee I drank, it did nothing. Reducing my caffeine made it more effective whenever I actually use it. I did have a cup of coffee this morning. I’m still planning to quit it completely, though – I’m *not* going to ‘use it in moderation’ for the rest of my life, especially if, by some miracle, I can succeed in my goal of becoming pregnant. So many things have interfered with that goal. 😦

It is such a shame for me to have so much knowledge, but never be able to use it! It just seems so wrong for me to spend *decades* gathering knowledge about nutrition and pregnancy and childbirth and how to properly raise and protect a child and how to educate them and how to nurture them, only to never do it. How can I criticize how other people are raising their children, when I haven’t ever done it? And yet, I *do* criticize them, very strongly. Even though I’ve never given birth, I know the right way to do it, and I know the wrong way to do it, and I am absolutely certain of this. Even though I’ve never given birth before, I feel perfectly confident that I am capable of giving birth by myself, without a midwife, at home, although I would want someone to be there, just not to interfere with me.

I sometimes watch videos of people giving birth on youtube. This is my pregnancy porn. You’re allowed to show videos of birth on youtube because it’s viewed as ‘educational.’ But to me there is nothing more erotic and fascinating than pregnancy. Pregnancy is my ‘jerkoff material.’ I don’t literally ‘jerk off’ while watching, but I can watch this stuff for hours without getting bored.

When I’m watching my pregnancy porn, I have disdain for the women who get these midwives to help them give birth. I am always annoyed when I watch the midwives (or ‘midhusbands’) ‘interfering’ with the birth by touching her, pulling out the baby, catching the baby, looking inside her to see if the baby is coming out, and so on. I’m always thinking to myself that this pregnant woman is stupid for using a midwife and for not just doing whatever her body wants her to do. Instead she has to stand there and let someone reach inside her and do this and that with the baby.

I’m even more annoyed whenever they show people ‘panicking’ the moment the baby comes out. Oh my god! We’ve got to jump in there RIGHT NOW and WIPE OFF THE BABY and WRAP A BLANKET AROUND IT and CUT THE UMBILICAL CORD NOW! Even with home births, people are still stupid about cutting the umbilical cord. You should *never* cut the umbilical cord! It’s giving the baby oxygen! You should also not wipe off the baby. The baby is covered with vermix, a greasy yucky looking yellowish-white stuff. That grease protects the baby’s skin. If you remove it, the baby’s skin is exposed to the air, and it dries out, and then you start panicking and saying, ‘Oh my god! My baby has dry skin! What should I do? I know! I’ll go to the store and buy a bunch of toxic petroleum products to smear all over my baby’s skin!’ (Lotions are toxic.)

So, I have a lot of disdain for most of the women giving birth on youtube. I know I can do it better than they can. Disdain for people sitting in warm water instead of just crouching on the floor. Disdain for people using midwives or midmen (whatever the word is for a male!). Middlemen? 🙂 Disdain for people using all these special tools that are supposed to help women give birth, like birthing balls. I don’t even know how that ball is supposed to help you. Disdain for people wearing forward-facing baby carrying slings, with the baby’s legs dangling out and thrashing around, unable to grab onto anything, bending its back and neck into a painful and unnatural position for hours at a time. Disdain for people wearing baby slings at all! I’m sure I can do everything better than these people can.

It would be a shame for me to go for such a long time being all cocky and looking down on anybody who gives birth in a way that I disapprove of, without ever demonstrating that I really *am* better at giving birth than they are, and smarter than they are, and so on – or, proving me wrong, and doing justice to me for being so cocky.

I know, I’m going to the tent today. ‘They’ just got my attention and reminded me not to sit here blogging about birth for hours. What was I leading up to? Basically, that I’m going to quit coffee, and I’d also like to quit dairy before pregnancy too. Chinese people don’t use much dairy, and are often lactose intolerant. They also are often alcohol intolerant, and don’t use much alcohol. They also don’t use much wheat, but use rice instead. Chinese people seem to have well formed Weston Price faces more often than white Europeans do. (Koreans have a lot of problems, though – starvation and chemicals will do that to you.) Chinese people use organ meats more than ‘we’ do. (Whatever ‘we’ is.) I’d like to avoid doing all the things that most white people univerally take for granted.

Thanks to the internet for educating me and encouraging me. When I read about these things, the web pages often mention a whole cluster of ideas and beliefs that I’m interested in – for example, any web page that talks about natural childbirth is very likely to also mention that you should never circumcise your baby boys. Natural childbirth people are also more likely to breastfeed. They are more interested in healthy diets. I learned so much from the internet that my culture didn’t teach me.

I’m going to get ready and go to work up at the tent today, cleaning things up. I have more energy and less exhaustion because of my caffeine reduction, which is why I am willing and able to work on my first day off! Normally, I can only rest all day long on my first day off. Without caffeine, my body isn’t exhausted anymore. It will get even better when I quit coffee completely. I know I’m doing the right thing.

Oh, I also bought a great book which has been delivered. I must pick it up. It’s Peter Breggin’s (EII!) ‘Psychiatric Drug Withdrawal.’ I watched one of his youtube videos. He is an EII absolutely for sure. He’s awesome.

Organic half and half

June 15, 2014

3:22 PM 6/15/2014

I switched to drinking the Horizon organic half and half. I finished up the other jug of milk that had the vitamin A and D added, plus the omega-3 from algal oil. Now I’m going to be testing nothing but this half and half for a while to see what symptoms it causes.

I drink it at work. I get symptoms of kidney stones. If you google ‘drinking milk causes kidney stones,’ the very first result (if I recall) is a big page claiming that this is a myth. They’re lying and/or ignorant. Drinking lots and lots of milk does cause kidney stones. I don’t know why. It might be the toxic synthetic vitamin D, but then again, it might be something that naturally occurs in milk, such as, too much protein, or too much calcium, or something.

So I’m going to test the half and half to see if it gives me the kidney stones. I’m not actually ‘passing’ kidney stones, as in, urinating them out, while in agonizing pain. I’m just feeling sharp small pains in my kidney area shortly after drinking the milk, if I am drinking a lot of it in one day. It even happened at work after I drank the half and half.

I’m drinking one entire quart of half and half per day, the whole carton. It has 32 servings in it. Each serving is 10% of your RDA, recommended daily allowance (or whatever they call it nowadays), of saturated fat. That means I am getting 32 x 10% = 320% of my RDA of saturated fat every day. I’m also still eating other foods, many of which contain fat. I’m not feeling any heart symptoms at all from this.

I *do* have heart symptoms when I eat beef tallow or very fatty foods made from beef. It happened with some beef sausages. It happened when I cooked some fatty beef at home. I haven’t tested it enough. I do not know which beef fat sources cause the symptoms. Maybe they all do, or maybe only some of them do.

But this milk fat is doing nothing to me that I can feel.

I did not get rapid weight gain yet. However, I am gaining a little bit of fat slowly. If I kept drinking a quart of half and half every day for several months, I might gain a significant amount of weight. I don’t know.

The milk and cream are *greatly* helping me at work. I no longer drink coffee, after coffee, after coffee, every night at work. I have to go shopping every day to buy my cream. It’s not cheap. It’s cheaper than those Starbucks Frappuccinos, though, and they contained growth hormone and caused sexual arousal. And I sleep better. I have not quit coffee completely. I drink a few cups a day when I’m at home, just not in the evenings while I’m at work. Perversely, I actually have more energy at work now and don’t become as fatigued, but I also move more slowly.

I am having dyslexia while typing, sometimes very badly, so that I can barely type a single word without getting the letters all messed up. The Feingold Diet people say that milk can cause ADHD symptoms, and dyslexia is one of those symptoms that can be caused by food sensitivities. I can see that I’m making mistakes as I type, so I backspace and fix them (it’s not so bad now, just a little bit), so it takes a long time to type. If I weren’t being zapped by the attackers constantly, my mental focus would be better in spite of drinking milk, and I probably would not be having this problem so badly. It probably makes me more vulnerable to the attacks, or makes me more easily distracted whenever I am attacked, or more easily confused, but the attacks are still part of the cause of it.

The main thing I wanted to comment about was that 320% of the RDA of saturated fat. That number shocked me. I’m really not feeling anything in my heart. There are *grains of truth* in the government’s recommendation not to eat too much saturated fat, because I observed heart symptoms, I just can’t explain them, and they may have some other cause. There are substances in meat which cause symptoms, blood clumping, and other stuff. Some of these may be naturally occurring in meat.

The goal will be to quit drinking coffee completely, and then, also quit drinking the dairy products. However, that’s in the future and I’m not in that part of the experiment yet. This Horizon organic milk is a compromise. Ideally I would be drinking raw milk, and I don’t want it to have parasites, so I don’t want to buy it from the guy at the farmer’s market. I bought raw milk from a different farm when I was in Bellefonte, and I don’t remember getting parasites from it, but it was so long ago and I might not have understood what was happening.

Dairy products are extremely addictive. They’re meant to be. But it can be a nuisance if you have any reason why you would prefer not to be eating them.