Archive for May, 2016

The hopniss is sprouting

May 31, 2016

I looked at it today. I counted what looked like about five stalks. I think I planted eight or maybe twelve tubers – I forget. Some of them seemed almost dead, and I wasn’t really sure whether any of them would grow at all. But there are definitely five hopniss-like sprouts coming up at the exact place where I planted them. Some of them are winding around small objects, like a little tree growing there, and hopniss does that – it doesn’t have tendrils, but it just winds its entire stem around an object to climb up it. They are maybe about a foot long right now.

I am not going to try to eat them this very instant. I just want to let the plants grow, become strong, and stabilize for a long time before I attempt to eat anything at all. This is a native plant, but it’s an ‘invasive native’ – it tends to spread everywhere. That’s a good thing if you want it there and you’re intending to eat it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat it without getting sick, but no harm done if it grows everywhere, as it was supposed to be here before the genocide.

The hopniss sprouts are covered with fur. I have to check and see if hopniss plants are supposed to be furry – I forget. They don’t have leaves opened up yet, but they do have a leaf at the end which is still small and unopened and undeveloped, and it’s tiny and it looks like a multi-lobed leaf like a hopniss leaf. The winding stem behavior where several of them wrapped around a little tree is the giveaway. They were definitely growing out from the exact location where I planted them. I am sure it is them. I really was giving up on them – the last few times I went to look, there was no sign of any growth at all.

Setting up the tent today – there’s no time to get an apartment

May 31, 2016

11:35 AM 5/31/2016

Later today, I’m going to try to go set up my tent. I’m going to the same place where I was before. I have the tent ready and in my big backpack.

I just don’t remember why I didn’t get an apartment when I was living there in the woods before. Was it because of bad timing? I was thrown out of Mary Jo’s in, like, August. I know I wouldn’t have easily been able to get an apartment right at that time since that’s right when the semester starts and everyone already has apartments. I didn’t try to get one later, or I didn’t keep trying, or I forgot to keep looking – I don’t know what happened.

Then it got to be December, and I had something like pertussis for a couple months. I really think it might have been pertussis. That’s when somebody walking by heard me coughing, and that’s when they found my tents and called the police.

I don’t want to get stuck there for very long now. I just don’t have time to get an apartment. I’m trying, but people aren’t answering me fast enough, or I’m not answering them fast enough, or I’m in the process of trying to get a job but no one is hiring me and no one is calling back – Manpower just told me that the ONLY JOB they have right now is housekeeping. That’s bullshit. They have jobs. I’m just blacklisted.

Meanwhile, I think I found out what made me sick. It was this weird mustard that I bought at Wegmans. I bought it because I couldn’t get the kind I wanted. I ate some of it again this morning and was really nauseated afterwards. I just got rid of the rest of it – I don’t have enough ‘spoons’ (energy, for a chronic fatigued person) to deal with reporting to the company that the mustard made me sick.

So I am unwillingly going and setting up my tent this afternoon, while my stomach is still somewhat sick. I’m afraid – I don’t want any idiots to call the police on me again, but I don’t know how quickly I can find a place to live, while also I’m hunting for a job.

Food stamps won’t do me much good now. I won’t have a refrigerator. You can’t buy prepared foods with food stamps, although I think it is possible to buy a refrigerated sandwich, just not a hot one, and not restaurant food.

I need to have a formal lease if I rent an apartment from now on. Both times when I’ve informally rented a room from friends or regular people, they’ve thrown me out with hardly any notice, so I don’t have enough time to look for another place. It can take MONTHS to find an apartment and to sign up in advance. I also was renting a room informally as a sublet, and they, too, suddenly threw me out without notice. That’s when I thought I could just re-sign on for the next cycle of the lease, but suddenly discovered that I couldn’t. I was all officially on the papers as a sublet, after a HUGE HASSLE to do the paperwork, but then suddenly in the blink of an eye I was gone because I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t officially able to get on the next cycle.

With regard to my living situation, my life has sucked extremely badly for the past year and a half, or so, just since early in 2014 when I first moved into the Chinese apartment as a sublet. Whatever I’m doing, it isn’t working. I cannot just sublet informally, I cannot just rent from friends or random people informally – THIS IS NOT WORKING. I cannot just suddenly be forced to leave with no notice. I need to have an official place to live. Don’t get me started. Primitive people did not do this. They did not pay money to live on their land.

I’ll have to catch the bus in a little while, and then I’ll have to go to the campsite, and I will try to work carefully so as not to hurt myself too badly and not to use up all of my energy.

Then, later, I will have to get some help from Mike. I will have to pack some stuff in the truck, and take it there during the nighttime. I do have a dolly that I can use to make it easier. It will be easier to carry the stuff than it was last time.

I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS AGAIN. I want to have some way of not being suddenly thrown out without notice, and it means I will have to officially rent, be on the lease, renew the lease for the next cycle, or I must own a house.

And meanwhile, I also have to find a job. And my stomach is sick today so I’m afraid to even drink any fluids, although it’s hot and I will definitely need fluids after putting up my tent. I’ll bring along a bottle of water.

Asians understand decontamination better than Americans do

May 30, 2016

I’m reading about Korean spas. I was browsing websites the other day and somebody mentioned something about a Korean spa where you would spend the night sleeping on the floor, overnight at the spa.

There are things that Chinese and Koreans do which are exactly the same as what I did during the worst of my decontamination from ephedra. Ephedra sinica also happens to come from Asia, if I recall correctly. They might actually be familiar with large-scale decontamination, so much so that it’s integrated into their culture.

They take off their shoes before entering a room, or before
transitioning from one type of floor to another (bare floors versus carpets). Check: I did that too, out of life-or-death necessity. It is not mere ‘tradition’ or ‘custom.’

I noticed this when I lived in the apartment, briefly, with Chinese students. They had flip-flops and shoes everywhere, at the doorway, and at the edge of the kitchen floor. They would automatically step into these flip-flops before stepping onto the kitchen floor, even though it was just a very small kitchen. It’s understandable – a kitchen might be dirty or greasy – but the strength of this habit was so strong, I suspected that their culture had a deeper reason behind it.

Other cultures, like Muslims, practice foot-washing before prayer. Again, I totally get this. The floors are the thing that gets contaminated the most and is hardest to clean, as it is a permanent surface. So feet get contaminated most easily, all the time. I experienced this when my floors got contaminated with ephedra and other herbal residues in previous apartments during the worst of my decon. The residues go through the skin of your feet, drastically affecting your mental moods, and so you really wouldn’t be able to pray or meditate unless you had washed your feet – the poisons would put you into an uncomfortable and tense mind state.

Baptism is another washing type of custom associated with religion. Before you can enter sacred ground and be accepted into the religion, you must wash.

Cleansing and purifying are not mere customs or symbolic acts, but rather life or death necessities.

The Korean spa that I am reading about has people taking off their shoes before they go into the bathing area. You’re provided with a smock to wear instead of your own clothes. Again, using different clothes and different towels, instead of your own, is essential for decontamination.

I could make a campground with a naked spa inspired by spas around the world in other cultures where they tolerate nudity more than we do. I would like to give people the opportunity to do a formal
decontamination of residues, especially people with chronic illnesses. In order to decontaminate properly, you must follow procedures very carefully to make sure that you do not carry contamination from one area to the next, from one step to the next. The facility must be designed in such a way that it forcibly prevents you from
contaminating the next area. I could be an expert at decontamination.

In the spa, you would be able to sleep, just like they do at a Korean spa. Once again, I saw some very odd similarities to what I was doing during my own decontamination at home. I slept on the floor, because I immediately discovered that I could not sleep on the bed – I quickly poisoned the bed with ephedra residues, making it hopeless to sleep there. So I began sleeping on cardboard on the floor.

I could not use a regular pillow of fabric, because again, I contaminated it immediately, ruining it permanently, and ephedra does not wash out of fabric. So I slept with my head on a roll of paper towels for a long time, and I could peel off the outer towel if it got contaminated. In the Korean spa, they are sleeping on hard wooden floors (which are heated from below – sleeping on a floor is extremely cold – it sucks all the heat out of your body), and they have a little curved wooden block that you can put your head on to raise it up a little bit above floor level – not a soft fabric pillow. It really is as though they are avoiding contamination, doing almost exactly the same things I did during my decon. Avoiding beds made of fabric, avoiding anything permanent and non-washable at all, avoiding soft fabric-covered pillows – all of that is essential for health if you are decontaminating.

I really want my own house to be designed in such a way that I can constantly, routinely decontaminate as needed, all the time. If I owned a campground, I would like to make a spa where you could do this. I would learn from other spas around the world, and would also base it on my own decontamination experiences, and I would even research the decontamination centers for serious deadly poisons that they have in government facilities, for handling things like nuclear radiation.

I am less concerned about designing places that prevent contamination from *germs*, which will multiply. Poison residues do not multiply, although they linger forever. So if you get rid of them, then you are rid of them. You can reduce them more and more, and they do not increase. Germs, however, require a different design – you must get rid of them completely and absolutely to make sure they never regrow. Smallpox decontamination required people to do things like burn all their belongings.

If we’re going to allow extraterrestrial aliens to visit our planet openly and freely, then everyone everywhere must practice
decontamination procedures to get rid of both chemical poison residues and foreign germs. I’m not germ-phobic, but I’ve never experienced a deadly plague. I’m the one who happily picks up the mouse in my bedroom and holds it in my hands, after the cat was carrying it and he dropped it and it was stunned, even though I’ve read about people dying of hantavirus from handling mice. I can read about deadly hantavirus and still pick up the mice and think to myself how cute and sweet and wonderful they are and how much I love mice. How can I love mice? I absolutely adore them. So, I do not have germ phobia.

The only germ I fear is rabies, because I was attacked last year and was forced to experience it. I don’t feel like talking about that right now. It’s in my blog. I’m sure that this was a fake, forced, puppet incident where somebody artificially mind controlled a sick animal to approach me, because the incident occurred right after several other sinister, threatening incidents from humans (using the word ‘human’ very loosely here!).

I have some instinctive fears. I do not fear snakes – I absolutely love them, and I saw ‘wow!’ and I go looking at the snakes or even touching them if possible, although I am cautious. I do not fear mice, and, once again, I pick them up and cuddle them if possible. I *DO* fear spiders, although I love jumping spiders, after seeing a National Geographic article about them, and I hold jumping spiders in my hand, but they are easily recognizable. (I just saw a video of a ‘peacock spider,’ which is a jumping spider with a little disk that has a frownie face on it, if I recall – I want to look at them again – and it holds up the little disk like a peacock tail.) I fear particular shapes of spiders.

It’s interesting how these fears can be transmitted from the past, without anyone telling you to be afraid of these things. I once read that it’s possible for epigenetic factors to affect certain parts of your brain, even if they do nothing to the permanent DNA itself. They even said that children of Holocaust victims are different because of epigenetics.

I sometimes wonder if my ancient Native American DNA or epigenetics from the American Genocide have affected my life and how I feel about things. I was attracted to long haired men all the way back in kindergarten! I always wanted to go outside and build something out of rocks and sticks in the backyard. I don’t officially have a ‘Native American’ background, but rather, this is one small distant relative in some obscure place back on my mom’s side of the family. I’d be one of those people who can say I’m 1/52 Native American or something. The rest of me is white European.

Anyway, that all came from talking about germ plagues. The design of a building that is meant to control germs is different from one where you’re only removing residues of some sort. Germs multiply and residues don’t. Germs live on different surfaces. You can control germs by making everything out of particular kinds of metal. I forget what kinds of metal, but certain kinds of metal just don’t allow germs to grow. There’s a word for it that I can’t remember. Making things out of silver, for instance. But there are cheaper metals than silver. I’m thinking copper but I’m not certain of that.

Anyway my place is only for drug residues and chemical residues. Germs are a separate issue that I am temporarily not focusing on. I have a different specialization.

I’m somewhat better after napping and changing clothes. Thinking about RVs, and campgrounds

May 30, 2016

I still feel quite weird, like I’m having a reaction to something. I’m so uncomfortable that it’s hard for me to even sit here reading random stuff on the internet. I might even take another shower.

I’m having an ‘almost coherent thought,’ although actually, it’s too far in advance to be ‘actable.’ It’s too far in the distant future. I was thinking of buying an RV or renting one, and then one thing led to another (including several non-functional web pages where I just couldn’t click on anything at all and had to just abandon the page), and I considered renting an RV, and then renting a space at a campground, and then, becoming a campground owner.

I would totally do that – in fact, I have planned / fantasized about exactly what I would do as a campground owner, and thought that this would be an ideal business for me, where my job would be to create the kind of world that I wanted myself and others to live in. It wouldn’t necessarily be an RV campground (grr! I have to fix this stupid shift key again! I can’t push the right shift button anymore!) but just any campground at all.

Having an RV is something I’ve thought about for an extremely long time, but since I can’t even save up $200 without having a disaster of some sort, I can’t save up enough to make a down payment on an RV either, even a used one, even the trashiest used one that is falling apart and is so rotten that you can’t even stand up in it without falling through the rotten floor and with the wheels falling off. Even a trailer that old and rotten would still cost more than $200. There’s actually a trailer right here in the backyard of this house that they’ve said they might get rid of, but I can’t use it because I don’t have a car. It doesn’t have the wheel hooked on either.

Living in an RV requires you to have a safe place to put the RV, long term. You also need some way to get back and forth to work, because it’s not really a good idea to drive the RV itself everywhere you go. So you still have the issue of location – the RV park will be in some faraway rural area, 50 miles from the nearest town where your job is.

I can’t really think clearly at the moment because I’m still mysteriously not feeling well, although I’m fairly sure it’s some kind of substance reaction to some of my clothing.

But anyway this is not actable in the immediate moment – it cannot help me in 15 days or less. That number, 15 days, is just a rough estimate – Mike said he might need me to leave that soon. I do already know where I will put my tent if I fail to get an apartment – I actually am trying to get an apartment right now, but I will have to beg Mom to send me a bunch of money if I do, because I still haven’t gotten a job. I’ve applied at a couple places and they are either not getting back to me, or I’m doing interviews and then being abandoned.

Steve told me that I should call them back and pester them.
Strangely, when I worked at McDonald’s and people told me they were trying to apply at McDonald’s, I’d always be like, ‘Yes! Yes! You have to keep pestering them over and over! Call them back! Walk into the store and ask them if they still need to hire somebody!’ From my point of view, safely behind the counter, safely employed at McDonald’s, this seemed reasonable. I could see from my point of view that all that was needed was for the applicants to just keep pestering the hell out of them, because they’d hire you if only you got in their face enough.

However, now that I am unemployed, powerless, helpless, ashamed, and worthless, terrified of what they will think of me when they find out that I quit my last job because the pesticides made me sick, I’m way too weak to aggressively go get in their faces, tell them I exist, as though I’m proud and confident and sure that I deserve this job. So now, I’m all like, ‘No, no… I can’t possibly go bother them again. If they don’t call me back, then they want nothing to do with me, ever, forever, because they hate me and they can see right through me and they know that I’m worthless and useless to them.’

I’m not actually ‘worthless,’ and that is not how I see myself objectively. But rather, I don’t fit into society. I know I don’t. I don’t do the things society wants me to do. I hate this society, and so I judge society as being the ones who are wrong, not me, but even so, I’m well aware that society doesn’t want people like me in it.

I’m waiting for an email back from Manpower. I was able to manage to talk to her about an updated resume. It’s Memorial Day, so she won’t be working, so I have to wait till tomorrow. I *might* be able to start working at Manpower, although the first job she tried to give me was one that I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT DO, based on past experience – housekeeper at a hotel! I did that one time, and it absolutely murdered me on the very first day. Chronic fatigue syndrome, and bed-making, do not mix. I had to make dozens of beds very quickly. This particular movement is so utterly exhausting that I could not recover, and I would have had to call off sick for several days to recover. Everyone says it hurts at first, but they don’t have chronic fatigue – there is no ‘at first’ for a chronic fatigue sufferer, there is only ‘forever.’ I can get in shape *a little bit*, but it is very limited.

I wish I could think clearly right now, because I actually would be very interested in reading about RV parks again and seeing how much they cost. That’s what I was trying to do when I was repeatedly stopped by nonfunctioning web pages! They designed one page which *seemed* like it should have something functioning on it, but sometimes, they make them so big that my computer screen cannot encompass them. I am already at maximum resolution. Those retards are not thinking of netbooks when they make pages where you absolutely have no choice except to push some button way down in the bottom right corner which is below the bottom of my screen at maximum resolution! Sometimes you can use little tricks to get around this, but other times, there is absolutely no way at all that you can make the page function, no matter what. This especially happens when the pages are designed with idiotic non-HTML things on them. If it’s just plain HTML I can almost always find a way to make it work, but if they have weird buttons you have to push, with javascript or whatever that stuff is, or flash, or, I don’t even know what it is, it’s something with popup dialog boxes where the ‘accept’ or ‘cancel’ buttons are below the bottom of my screen at maximum resolution, that kind of thing – I’ll tell the browser to put me in ‘full screen’ and still can’t find any functioning buttons within reach – I hate this kind of thing. That’s what I encountered on the page that allegedly was for renting RVs in Happy Valley. It had some kind of moving pictures on it, and ‘share on facebook’ buttons on the left side, but nothing else was functional, and I couldn’t tell if it was merely under construction and not finished yet, or badly designed and only usable by extremely high resolution computers with giant screens.

Anyway. And I have to get in the habit of using the caps lock button whenever I need to use the right shift key.

Something’s wrong with me today. Also, I hate the Goodwill store.

May 30, 2016

I feel sick somehow. I’m not sure what it is. I can’t even think. I’m either having a reaction to something, going into withdrawal from something, or having some other unspecified illness of unknown cause. My intestines also feel weird but I’m not throwing up.

I don’t quite know what’s going on but it’s frustrating because I feel that I won’t be able to get anything useful done. The buses aren’t running anyway because it’s Memorial Day, I assume. So it would be hard to even go into town.

I’m actually wondering if there is something in the air that I’m reacting to. I’ve got the windows open though. I feel sort of weak and even almost weepy, like I need to cry. I don’t know if it’s because I ate an unusual food? There are a couple different things it could be.

Anyway, this is me apologizing for giving up on any attempt to have a coherent thought today or to muster up the will to get anything done. I feel wayyyy too weird for anything like that. Taking a nap seems like the best thing to do.

I feel shaky and twitchy, like I do sometimes when I have convulsions. Those are often connected to tobacco withdrawal if I have gotten rid of tobacco-covered clothing, and I just recently switched to using Tide detergent, which seems to remove more drug residues than the gentle detergent I had before. I might have either removed some tobacco residues, or else I chemically reacted them and made them into some other substance. I’ve been wearing some shirts that came out of a bag where some of the clothes were contaminated and others were relatively clean, and I wasn’t wearing the contaminated stuff for a long time, but that made my laundry supply get smaller and smaller and smaller. So I got back into that bag again and am now wearing some clothes with unknown contaminants on them, and have been wearing that for the last couple days, simply from running out of clothes and not having an organized setup which would show me which clothes were clean and which were contaminated.

It’s possible to reduce, but not remove, contamination by washing, but ideally, you have to just get rid of contaminated clothes. My health always improves greatly if I periodically get rid of my clothes and get new ones. I have ongoing contamination from various sources. It is nowhere near as life-ruining as it was years ago, but nevertheless, it is still going on. There are several different types of
contamination, coming from several sources and locations, and they are on my clothes and I’ve lost track of which clothes have which contamination.

So my strange sickness, which seems like either a reaction or withdrawal, might indeed be from contamination on my clothing. I just can’t keep buying stuff and getting rid of stuff right now – this is exactly the wrong moment to be doing that. I have no money left. The clothes at Goodwill are so expensive and so – DON’T GET ME STARTED ON GOODWILL. They changed the way it’s organized. It’s no longer possible to find good deals at Goodwill. You can buy clothes brand new for the same price at other stores. For example I can get t-shirts from Rite Aid at the same price as the ones at Goodwill which are used, harder to find, and tend to have weird slogans on them. The Rite Aid shirts, which are new, are made by Chinese slaves, along with all the other super-cheap items at Rite Aid, but nevertheless, it’s saying something when Chinese Slave clothing is cheaper than USED clothing from Goodwill! Goodwill is dead to me. I have hated them for the past few years ever since they reorganized. I want to change every single thing about them. Everything they are doing is wrong. Because of this, I can no longer decontaminate as easily as I used to, back when it was possible to just go to Goodwill and find $0.25 items of clothing. For all practical purposes, the $0.25 clothing no longer exists in any form at all…

I said, don’t get me started. The $0.25 clothing no longer exists in any form. You have to search through randomly organized colors, which are only organized by size. If you happen to find a color you want, you then have to look at the little plastic thingy, the little thing with tabs on it that somehow is magically punched through a hole in the fabric. You have to see what color it is, and the colors constantly change either daily or weekly, so you can’t just memorize ‘Always look for orange tags’ or something. Then you have to go read a sign and find out that the orange tab means that this particular item is a 5.75839% price reduction. You can’t memorize that either, not even during the few minutes while you are walking around the store, because you also have to memorize that a pink tag means it’s 2.84975% reduced, and a yellow tag means that it’s 45.239487% reduced, and so on, and it’s ever-changing as I said. You have to keep walking back to the sign, which is at the front of the store, to decode the tags you’ve found to find out how much of a percent off they are.

They do have something like the $0.25 clothing, but this opportunity only exists during a 30-second time window on the second Monday of every month, or something like that. If you happen to arrive at the store during this 30-second time window on the right day, it’s possible to find a few items, with puce-colored tags, or maybe mauve-colored tags, which are, like, $0.75 or something, due to inflation (that is, inflation of the level of insanity of Goodwill). After the 30 seconds is up, you can no longer get $0.75 clothing.

The insanity and complexity and inconvenience of the pricing system is designed for morons who believe that they are ‘getting a deal’ whenever something is ‘on sale.’ As long as it has some incalculable, unimaginable number which is a ‘percent off,’ they have to excitedly grab it because it’s a deal. It doesn’t matter if you can’t mentally calculate exactly how much it’s going to cost when it’s 38.5689% off. You just need to know, ‘I’M GETTING A DEAL!!!’

No. Don’t get me started.

I only know, we need a new Goodwill. Goodwill must die.  (I’m not sure why but it cut off the word ‘die’ at the end even though I wrote that. I had to open BloatPress and struggle to force the web page to function so that I could edit this post to add the word ‘die’ at the end.)

By the way, about racism, and about time travel

May 29, 2016

This is not easy to explain in fifteen words or less, but, every once in a while I make a racist comment in my blog. I’m not sure if any black people read my blog and get offended by this. This is actually something that comes from the voices in my head more so than from me. I do actually have some unfortunate experiences with black people in the drive-thru at McDonald’s, and I do have a problem with music written by black people. That much is true.

However, I’m not a genocidalist, and in fact I believe in racial mixing. I value the biodiversity of the human race – I value their differences because they are different. I especially enjoy watching videos about black people growing out their artificially straightened hair and changing over to natural hair textures.

I was watching some youtube videos about people who claimed to have time traveled into the future. Several of them said that there were hardly any black people there at all. I actually don’t want that future, although it *might* be okay if black people moved closer to the equator so that their dark skin could get the sunlight more easily, because the lack of vitamin D, due to the melanin in the skin protecting them too much at high latitudes, causes a lot of health problems; however, they could probably live at the polar regions if they were eating seafood organs and raw seals and fish oil raw and all that.

But anyway, I didn’t really believe any of the alleged time travel stories, because none of them said anything unthinkable, anything truly unimaginable. There was nothing so weird that we couldn’t have thought of it ourselves. And I also don’t WANT a lot of the futures they talked about. I don’t want a future with no black people, and with the human population being only a tiny fraction of what it is now. That is not my vision of the future. My vision of the future has EVEN MORE human biodiversity in it, with more mixed races and more spontaneous random mutations (that are harmless).

Google, or youtube, or the hackers, or the NSA, somehow knew that just the other day I went to a forum and wrote a complaint about how much I hate ‘underboobs’ and ‘sideboobs’ because those are all over the place on the ads that I see, and the only reason they exist is because of censorship. My hormones are severely affected by something in the past few days, seemingly the combination of St. John’s Wort and bovine growth hormone which I strongly suspect is in the milk of the milk chocolate that I got from Wegmans – it was this generic brand chocolate stuff, with just chocolate in thin sheets with nuts on top of it. One of the hormonal effects, along with my body seeming like it’s ovulating, is breast swelling and unusual attention to breasts, which was one reason why the annoying underboob phenomenon was even more unavoidable and annoying than usual.

So, after having written that post in a forum, and after having done a google search for breast implants (because I don’t believe in them), partly so that I could learn to recognize what fake breasts look like as compared to natural ones – all of a sudden, youtube was offering me hundreds of suggested videos of half naked women in African tribes. I only clicked on one and then suddenly all of the videos being offered were Boob Videos.

I said I couldn’t say this in fifteen words or less, and it started off being about racism. I always notice that Africans in Africa are almost always much more calm and contented than Africans in the USA. Non-American cultures are usually much healthier in many ways, although I’m not saying I love all the African cultures either – they have a lot of horrible things that I *don’t* like.

I also have suspected that something is wrong with the particular brand of organic milk I have right now. It was ‘Organic Valley’ or something, and I seem to recall that Food Babe or somebody
investigated them and found that they were evasive about something. I have been intermittently noticing hormone effects as though the milk contains bovine growth hormone, and it *seems* to be connected to that particular milk, but the correlation hasn’t been strong enough for me to be sure. I only started realizing this recently enough that I haven’t had a chance to eliminate all the other possible factors.

Well, what I have gathered so far is that I don’t WANT the future that some of these ‘time travelers’ claim to have seen, but I also don’t believe it was true – they never said anything unthinkable. The real world always has specific details that are so unpredictable, so unique, that you never would have imagined them. It would be something totally random and strange, like, say, a new style trend in the clothing. Some random weird detail that nobody would have predicted. The ‘time travelers’ don’t bring back any unexpected information like that. They bring back all this stuff like ‘All the black people are gone, the oceans have risen and swallowed up all the cities, and the population has shrunk to a tiny fraction of what it was, and we have floating cities, and the government is totally socialist, and there is no government, it’s just a computer that shoots you on sight if you break the law.’ That sounds like a miserably boring world to live in.

I would rather live in a world where a wide variety of tribes and cultures and races existed all over the place, with unexpected, unpredictable, unique little customs, although I’d like to do away with some of the customs like circumcision. Yeah, that’s an example of what I’m talking about. In the future, there will be some weird, insane, totally stupid, idiotic, harmful custom that everybody is expected to perform, like slice their noses completely off their faces or something, and it will be mandated by law, and everyone everywhere will be chopping off their noses completely, and if you break this law, you get the death sentence, because everybody with an unchopped nose is a danger to the rest of society. That kind of thing. That’s the real future. Idiotic, stupid shit. The ‘time travelers’ never come back and tell us anything like that.

I might be more inclined to believe them if they think of things that are so specific and so bizarre that our minds just can’t process them at all, and they can’t be all vague and general about it (‘I saw this floaty, dreamy room full of light, and it was so beautiful, and I was floating, and there were these lights, and then more lights, and then some sounds, and somebody was talking, and everything in the universe was all connected!’).

People are allegedly going into the future, with their mobile phones, and taking pictures and videos. It’s interesting and entertaining to watch, maybe more entertaining than a movie, and they claim to be telling the truth, not fiction, which also makes it more interesting – they have the challenge of trying really, really hard to make it seem believable somehow.

But what exactly is ‘believable’ and ‘unbelievable?’ That is an impossible question to answer. And it depends on the time range, too. If you go 10,000 years into the future, it’s harder to imagine what would happen than if you go 100 years into the future.

So, you people need to give up on this ‘Nazis with flying saucers that have swastikas on them’ and ‘there are no more black people in the future.’ Get over it! We want black people in the future. We want biodiversity in the future!

Wegmans – a beautiful external veneer over a corrupted inside

May 29, 2016

I’m shopping at Wegmans all the time, because that’s closest to where I live right now. This is fine with me – I have always loved Wegmans. However, I’m finding out that Wegmans isn’t as perfect as it seems to be on the surface. The Food Babe Army needs to launch an assault on Wegmans.

Everything is absolutely beautiful, and there is a huge variety of stuff, including organic stuff. I decided this store is LSI. It’s privately owned, not a public company, which is another reason why they’re great.

However, they do not follow my principles. I still find that even with organic products, you can get unwanted ingredients added in. (This is true at all stores.) The one odd thing that caught my attention a few weeks ago was just annoying enough that it started to sour my attitude towards Wegmans just a tiny bit. I had this perfectionistic ideal in my mind that represented them, but that perfectionistic ideal is crumbling a tiny, tiny bit.

The odd thing that happened was, I was buying organic corn chips. These are one of my long term staples. I actually would prefer not to buy corn chips, but there are a lot of reasons why I do, and I won’t get into it now. But I do buy organic ones whenever possible, although I sometimes buy junk food chips too and I don’t drop dead instantly. I just avoid the junk food chips as a general rule.

Well, I’ve been accustomed to buying these organic corn chips from Weis Market for a long time, and I had no problem with them. They contained only a few simple ingredients, such as organic corn, organic sunflower oil, and sea salt.

But I swear to you, I walked all over the entire Wegmans store a few weeks ago, when I noticed something odd, and not a single package of organic chips in the entire store was like that. Instead, ALL of them told me that they don’t know for sure which kind of oil is in the chips, which is *very* suspicious. They all said ‘organic sunflower and/or safflower and/or canola oil,’ something like that (that might not be exactly what it was, but it’s like that), telling me they actually have no idea what this is made of, and it might contain canola oil, which I want to avoid on principle even if it’s organic.

Why would they *not know* for sure which oil is in their organic chips? Food Babe, where are you now? Something suspicious is going on. If they don’t even know which chips were made with which oils, do they even really know if it’s organic? And even if it is organic, what if I deliberately want to avoid canola, because, in fact, I do? In order to avoid canola, I would have to simply not buy any chips at all from Wegmans.

This seems like a trick being done to people who are too stupid to read the labels. Ha ha, it says ‘organic’ on the front – these idiots will never bother to actually turn it over to the back and read the list of ingredients.

Also, alas, at age 41, after many long nights of watching movies on my computer screen in the darkness, my eyes are a bit blurry. I need a magnifying glass to look at some of these ingredient lists. The other day, one list was so tiny I absolutely could not read it no matter how hard I tried. I won’t wear glasses, because I’ve temporarily tried wearing reading glasses before, and all glasses cause injury to the eyes. You should only use them briefly for a moment to look at something specific, then take them off – which means, use a magnifying glass instead of glasses. I bought these over-the-counter,
non-prescription reading glasses from Wal-Mart, and they caused my eyes to feel strained in a bad direction after I had them on for only a little while, causing my vision to actually become worse afterwards.

Good grief, I’m about to turn 42 in a couple months. This year flew by – like a hemorrhage – I have said my time is hemorrhaging now.

So anyway, they think I’m too dumb, too apathetic, too ignorant, and too blind to read the actual list of ingredients, so they can sneak things in there.

I actually started noticing a couple other sneaky things in the ingredients after that incident. The other day, I got the pico salsa from Wegmans. Pico salsa is one of my favorite things to buy at Weis Market. I figured I could just get exactly the same thing at Wegmans. Nope! The only thing they sell that is even remotely like pico salsa is filled with dozens of unpronounceable chemicals and preservatives, whereas, the one from Weis Market, and also from Giant, contains only a couple simple, basic ingredients, following the ‘it grows in your backyard’ principle – just tomatoes, lemon juice, etc.

Maybe it means less waste. A dozen preservatives means they don’t throw as much spoiled salsa in the garbage. That much is probably, regrettably, true. I actually like their efforts to reduce waste. They have a utensil dispenser where you can pull out only one fork at a time for your meal, unlike, for instance, McDonald’s, which gives you by default a package with a fork and a butterknife that nobody ever uses. I have only used the butterknife on extremely rare occasions when eating pancakes, just to be nice, but usually I am too lazy and I cut the pancakes with my fork (on those rare occasions when I even eat that at all).

Some balance needs to be made between ‘using preservatives so that food doesn’t spoil and so we waste less food,’ versus ‘I don’t want any chemicals in my food at all no matter what the reason.’ Because I am all in favor of wasting less food! I hate food waste. I hate it even more if it doesn’t get composted. The least you can do is compost the food waste. But I also don’t want any chemicals, at all, period, and I don’t care if the so-called ‘scientists’ have informed me that they are ‘safe.’ I am aware that they are ‘safe’ in the sense that I do not drop dead instantly there on the floor the minute I’ve swallowed a single bite of the food. I don’t want to have to argue about it with a bunch of so-called ‘scientists.’

Science is a religion. It is just another religion, exactly like every other religion on earth. It is NOTHING BUT a religion.

I read a little article which I think was ‘Christian Science’ recently. It was outside a little bookstore in town. I actually liked this version of science more than the normal version of science. The person wrote a little true story about how he cured himself of allergies using only prayer, inspired by Christian Science.
Basically, to make a long story short, he used to take allergy medications in the past, but then he stopped taking them, and he used prayer to give himself enough courage to believe that everything would be okay if he stopped taking the meds. In the story, he attributes his cure to the fact that he prayed. I attribute it to the fact that allergies have many causes and he could have removed the cause at any time during those years – I had allergies too, back when I still ate foods that contained synthetic vitamin and mineral supplements. Synthetic supplements cause allergies as a side effect.

But I’m okay with the results he achieved. I actually *prefer* the idea that somebody tried to heal themselves using prayer (also known as using nothing at all), because the method of ‘do nothing at all’ is almost always safer than going to the doctor and getting a bunch of toxic pills and procedures done. I just read one of those awful stories that I shouldn’t read, where some lady gave birth by Cesarean section, and ended up having both her legs amputated, and also her uterus removed, without her consent.

All because of some complication during the birth – she had placenta previa (which is caused by the scarring from the previous Cesarean sections she had had!) and ended up getting a blood transfusion, and one thing led to another, and next thing you know, poof! Amputated legs and a hysterectomy. All in a day’s work!

It crossed my mind that maybe she was attacked by sociopaths, deliberately, performing in the service of the depopulation agenda, because she had already had seven previous children, all of them born in the mainstream hospital using mainstream methods. Somebody finally decided that eight children is enough and she needs to be punished for all those children, so we’ll rip out the uterus and also grab both her legs while we’re at it.

I’m actually in favor of people having a large number of children, although I strongly wish that some of the rarer, hard-to-find socionic personality types would give birth more frequently, and the more common types who already control the entire society by sheer majority would give birth slightly less often. But that’s just a preference and I’m not going to enforce it, especially not by that method.

But anyway. The idea was, it’s safer to just do nothing at all (prayer) to treat your illnesses a lot of the time, so in an indirect way, I approved of the Christian Science anecdote about the guy curing his allergies with prayer. I would actually wish that more people would do that kind of thing. Anything at all that results in fewer people going to the doctor and getting pills and surgeries is a good thing, regardless of how it’s done.

I forget what I was saying. I was complaining about the ingredients of my Wegmans food. Oh – okay, I said science was religion.

I talked with Mike. I am starting to believe that I will have to switch my focus over to just going camping very soon, because I am failing at all my efforts to get a job. I won’t be able to
simultaneously get a job and an apartment at the exact same time in the short amount of time I have left at this house. Failure is looking inevitable. I need to switch over to Inevitable Failure Coping Mode. Failure Acceptance Mode. Right now, I’m still in Failure Denial Mode, which isn’t working very well for me.

Failure isn’t funny, though. Actually, I’m sick of failure. I get thrown out right at the moment when I’m making progress. I lose my job right at the moment when I’m making progress. I bought a sewing machine and just barely started to use it; I bought an electric bike motor and just barely started learning how to maintain my bike; I bought a couple of tools I would need to work with these things; then all of a sudden I instantly lost my job due to pesticide spraying, and then was hopelessly incapacitated for almost half a year, until it got a little warmer.

After it got warm, I stopped having to wear my coat, and I suspect my coat is contaminated, which might be why I had constant, recurring recontamination all those months, causing me to spend all my time exhausted in bed. (The voices have been mentioning to me that somebody somewhere, who has ‘Relapsing MS,’ needs to be informed about the phenomenon of transdermally absorbed chemical contamination and residues that don’t wash out).

As soon as it got warm, and I stopped wearing my coat, and started to get more energy, all of a sudden Mike told me I had to move out. He wasn’t mean about it, but rather, he said his nephew might be staying here. I did mention that this story was suspicious and also seems like an odd coincidence after Mary Jo having thrown me out while claiming that some distant relative was coming to live in my room. But regardless, I’m agreeing to leave. But, this also happened right at the exact moment when I started getting better and it looked like maybe there was a chance of making progress again.

I start to learn how to use tools and do hobbies and crafts – boom, total destruction of my entire existence. I start recovering, and start thinking maybe I’ll make a major effort to go become a bookkeeper, then boom – instant nuclear bomb on my entire life again. All that I can ever do is battle external forces attacking me constantly at the exact moment when I am starting to grow. So, in that way, ‘Failure Isn’t Funny.’ It’s possible to sometimes laugh at failure. Sometimes. I still have a chronic smirk due to St. John’s Wort, although the SJW is slightly getting cleaned off now. I’m suffering from bovine growth hormone in the milk that’s in my milk chocolate – from Wegmans. That’s been giving me MAJOR hormone problems for the last couple days, on top of the effects of the SJW. The two together are causing massive changes.

I’ll let you know when Failure Is Funny again. Something my brother said crossed my mind. He commented someplace, maybe on Twitter? that Twitter is a place where you can be simultaneously laughing like crazy at how funny someone is, while also thinking anxiously, ‘Should someone go check on that person and see if they’re okay?’ I had the same thought when I was reading about Ken M., an infamous internet troll, who I’ve typed as EII, my socionic activator. In some comment somewhere I believe it was Ken M (if I recall correctly) who wrote something along the lines of, ‘Ah, springtime! The time when dark, miserable suicidal thoughts give way to sunny and cheerful suicidal thoughts.’ Something like that. It was like, ‘Ha ha ha…. uh, should somebody look into this???’

So yeah, my smirk-inducing drugs mean that Everything’s A Big Joke right now, but in reality, I know it’s not a joke.

I need to switch over to preparing for failure – camping. I failed to get a job fast enough, and I failed to get another apartment fast enough.

All along, all this time, the voices always pretend that they’re helping me. But I can never know whether any of them, any at all, are actually benign and helpful. It SEEMS like some of the voices really are trying to help me, to fight against the ‘other voices’ which come from ‘somebody else’ who is evil and sociopathic and genocidal, but how am I to know? For all I know, they could all come from the same place.

But even so, all this time, every once in a while, I get to talk to voices in my head who say things that real humans, with souls, would say. Whenever this happens, I imagine that this particular person is sitting in a room someplace getting paid by sociopaths and their life is threatened if they try to leave, which is the only reason why they are still working for this company or agency, because Real Humans would never work there if they actually had souls. The only reason Real Humans With Souls would ever do a job where they got to push buttons that put voices into people’s heads, and the only
self-expression they had was in having the freedom to choose the exact grammatical wording of whatever messages they chose to send, so as to somehow signal that they are really human, is because someone told them ‘We’ll kill your whole family if you leave’ or something to that effect. No real human would choose such a job as a long term thing after finding out what was involved and really understanding it.

There are always other ways to talk to a person.

Ridesharing was today’s coherent thought

May 28, 2016

However, this was not a deeply integrated coherent thought, nor did it happen as a result of meditating. I’m still covered in St. John’s Wort drug residues to some extent, although I’m gradually getting cleaner. I also bought some harsh, toxic, killer detergent (Tide, the regular kind), which can cause skin irritation, but really does clean the clothes better (I think). I was using a gentle detergent for a while.

Anyway, this idea to apply for the Cata bus rideshare program was actually a suggestion that they gave me quickly when I wasn’t meditating, and as a result of being more suggestible than usual, I accepted the idea. I had noticed it a couple times recently on the Catabus page. I was looking for rides on Craigslist a while ago but that didn’t work out. I gave up. Then I saw that the Catabus people also have carpooling and vanpooling, so I’m going to get into that. Then I also saw that they have arrangements for long distance trips, not just from Cata, but from other websites. So I’m looking at those, too.

But first I will sign up for the Cata one, then see if I can get a job in some other town. I could aim for jobs in Altoona since that was where I was sort of looking at recently, and I saw some bookkeeping jobs there. And when I’ve gone to Altoona, it felt like the humans were more human there. People were real. It wasn’t like State College. I’ve been to the DelGrosso park a few times and that was what I did on my most recent trip to Altoona, with Steve, when we went to the Indian powwow.

One of the things I noticed was the sight of a pregnant woman walking around outdoors, in the crowd of people. In the town of State College, there are a whopping zero percent pregnant women walking around in town. They are young, school age people who are,
unfortunately, postponing pregnancy, which they shouldn’t do, which they are doing as a result of the depopulation program that has ruined our entire society, forcing people to live as childless slaves. People are postponing childbirth longer and longer, giving birth in their forties and taking the risk of having unhealthier children. Or, like me, suffering one catastrophe after another and never having any kids at all, in spite of having a strong interest in childbirth and a decades-long desire to have kids.

So, in Altoona, I saw one or maybe two pregnant women walking around in public, which indicates that the people are real in Altoona, not like this town where I am now. I hadn’t realized that the sight of a pregnant woman was a wonderful thing that I was missing out on, in this town of State College where there are nothing but young students following the path of society, preparing to spend the next few decades paying their mortgages and their college loans, unable to afford a child until they’re 47 years old. I didn’t realize it until I saw one, and then I was like, ‘Hey! This is different in Altoona!’ I wasn’t aware of it consciously until then.

You see an absolute zero grand total pregnant women in my town – it’s *extremely* rare. I swear I could probably go an entire year, or two years, without noticing a single pregnant woman walking around town in public. I do sometimes see people with young babies. But there aren’t even tons and tons of young children either.

Anyway, I probably ought to have more coherent actable thoughts than just ‘sign up for the rideshare.’ If I haven’t fully integrated that idea into an actable plan, then nothing will come of it. I need to actually imagine myself riding in a carpool going all the way to Altoona to my job early in the morning, a bookkeeping job, which will unfortunately Worship The Sacred Schedule, forcing me to get up at 5am so that I can be at my job at 8am. Or even 4am. I need to integrate this idea fully. Right now it is only at the level of going to the web page and filling out the form to sign up, which I will finish doing as soon as I post this. But I need to integrate the idea more than that.

OMG! No! I will not open BloatPress to edit that!

May 27, 2016

All I wanted to do was edit the previous post, and write that I suspected Jay Electronica was probably an ESI. This actually fits with the model that I use, where both +Fe and -Fi are in my vulnerable function, and it explains why I feel unable to use -Fi, but am able to use +Fi and -Fe (2 dimensional, in my mobilizing function in that model) more easily. I have had this happen before, where the -Fi of Gamma has caused me pain as though it really is in my vulnerable function.

Anyway, I tried using BloatPress, but could not even get it to go to the page where my blog posts were listed, and it stopped responding and said there was a script that wasn’t working. I HATE BLOATPRESS. If I wasn’t able to email my blogs from gmail, I would have stopped using WordPress long ago. However, there are no alternatives to WordPress either – all of them are equally bad, and they all go through phases where some idiot redesigns their pages and causes them to stop functioning. ALL OF THEM.

I want well designed web pages on my own private internet, where no retarded people are allowed to go. It will be illegal for retards to design web pages in my private internet.

No coherent thoughts today. Being helped by imaginary therapists who work for free. Gut problems that cause me to be timid and inactive and cowardly. A rap song that violated my soul so badly I had to stop even reading the lyrics on the page.

May 27, 2016

6:46 PM 5/27/2016

I experienced zero coherent thoughts today, although I made an attempt to meditate. It was not a very long attempt. I wanted to take a nap so badly that I stopped meditating and just gave up.

However, I did follow through on the coherent thought of yesterday, which was that I would take the steps necessary to try to send my resume to the Manpower lady. I don’t know if it’s been done properly because the entire thing is pointless and serves no purpose and so it doesn’t matter if it’s done right or done wrong. I could write it in gibberish, using bold italic Comic Sans Serif with one word on each line, and it would still be just as good, because it doesn’t even matter if anyone can read it.

I also attempted a new coherent thought with the help of my inner therapist, who is doing the work for free. The inner therapists (plural) are a group of voices in my head that have been showing up ever since I decided I would try to go to a career counselor. Some of them are good, and some of them are insane assholes, and some of them are the wrong socionic type and therefore not really able to interact with me properly.

So, with trial and error, and with luck, depending on which inner therapist is available on which particular day, I’m talking through some of my thoughts with the imaginary therapists for free. I would benefit greatly by doing this inside a shielded room, because I still experience various noise interruptions.

Therapy depends greatly on socionics. You have to use exactly the right words at the right time. I still remember some conflicts I had while attempting therapy with Judith Swack, so I have to avoid using some of the words she used.

I also experienced some post-therapy events after her, one of which led to the decision to deliberately connect my real name with this blog (basically, because the voices told me to), which enables people to find it by searching for my name. Originally, there was no connection between my real name and this blog. Only the NSA and the hackers would know, because it would be coming from whichever IP address and computer I was using. But now, employers are also able to find me on this blog, which isn’t a good thing. I am happy about friends, coworkers, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, family members, and anyone else finding me in the blog – I do want people to read it. But it’s not good if employers find my blog, then refuse to hire me because of it.

I have several ‘real people’ who I know are reading my blog, and this is a good thing because it lets everyone know what kind of a state I am in, mentally, emotionally, financially, and so on. If anything bad happens to me, people will pick up on it by reading my blog, and they can check up on me. I mean, I know bad stuff is ALWAYS happening to me, but I mean, badder stuff than usual. I’m tough enough to handle the normal level of badness. I don’t enjoy it, but I can handle it. People will know when the badness is totally out of control.

So anyway, the imaginary therapists have been around, attempting to help me formulate coherent thoughts, while battling against other constant attacks upon my mind and body. There is one particular problem that keeps happening, which has happened for a very, very long time. I started noticing it in college. It might be because of gallstones blocking my gallbladder from excreting gall freely. I don’t have gallstones badly enough that they cause any pain, and they probably would not show up on an x-ray, but still I suspect that nothing much comes out if my gallbladder squeezes.

I feel sensations of mild pain, with a clenching sensation, in the area of my gallbladder. This clenching could also be in my intestine. It is directly connected to anxiety. The anxiety is so strongly and directly connected to these clenching sensations that I can’t tell whether the anxious thought inside my brain comes first, or the clenching in the abdomen comes first. I only know that particular thought patterns are strongly correlated with this abdominal clenching. Basically, anything at all that I don’t want to do, or dread, or find the slightest bit difficult, or confusing, or uncertain, or unclear, will trigger this clenching.

‘They’ have suspected it is in the connection between the enneagram and socionics – the ‘gut triad,’ enneagram types 8, 9, and 1, literally have problems that involve their gut.

I think the enneagram should include a ‘muscle group’ too, in addition to the heart, head, and gut groups. The muscle group might represent extraverted sensing in socionics. We need a direct translation between the enneagram and socionics. I think we should just make it so the enneagram has sixteen types. We already have a partial, loose correlation between the two systems, but the correlations are sometimes strong, sometimes weak, and sometimes all over the place.

I’m not attached to the magic number three (although I am fond of music in beats of three), and so it doesn’t bother me to discard the attachment to three in the enneagram and just change it into enneagram-socionics.

It’s just that there *seems* to be a correlation, at least partly. There are some types that almost could not possibly be particular enneagram types. Like, a logical thinking type can’t be a type Two in the enneagram. Type Two in the enneagram almost certainly has to be some kind of ethical type in socionics. But type Nine is so vague and general that almost anybody can be a type nine.

I don’t even think I should go into this, actually. I stopped using the enneagram a few years ago. I was already experiencing too many problems with it, and the last straw was when I read an article on the now Ex-Socionist blog talking about why he doesn’t like the enneagram, and I agreed with everything he said.

Anyway, so I’m experiencing ‘gut problems.’ And neurotransmitters come from the bacteria in the intestines, too, so I’m probably experiencing a problem with my gut bacteria on top of all that.

All that I know is that there is an extremely strong connection between thinking anxious thoughts, having a clench in my abdomen, and being so blocked and distracted that I can no longer continue the thought process and I instantly give up and stop trying. It is like pushing a magic button. If I feel the slightest clenching in my gut, I instantly make no attempt at all to do whatever I was thinking of doing, or to think whatever thoughts I was thinking.

Knowing about electronic mind control, I realize this is a major ‘hackable’ vulnerability which is probably being used against me.

So, I think it was yesterday – one of the ‘inner therapists’ attempted to directly confront the gut clench phenomenon, as though they assumed it was an entirely fake, manmade, unnatural phenomenon being used as an attack to prevent me from taking action. Whenever I or anybody directly confronts a phenomenon, the attackers often show themselves, finally admitting that yes, they are the cause of that attack after all, and they will sometimes switch over to doing some other, more dramatic type of attack elsewhere.

However, I really don’t know for sure if it is completely nothing but an attack. Usually, in my experience, the attackers attack a ‘vulnerability,’ something which is already a weakness or a problem that happens on its own, even when they are not doing anything. For example, they always ‘kick me when I’m down.’ If I’m really sick, or if I’m having major problems in my life, the attacks get even worse.

I will know, for instance, that I’m sick for reasons that they didn’t cause, or I’m having problems in my life for reasons which they might or might not have caused, but once those bad things happen to me, the attackers start pushing those buttons even more than usual. ‘Kicking me while I’m down’ is always the phrase I used to describe it, and that is the most accurate thing I can think of. Attacking somebody who is already weak.

So, it might be the same with my intestine. I could already have a legitimate tendency to ‘pay attention to my gut,’ and there may be some truth to the enneagram, and how the type that I chose, Type Nine, does indeed have gut-related problems. Maybe, that stuff really exists, even without electronic mind control attacks.

However, the attackers seem to be taking advantage of it as a known vulnerability, a known way to control this type of person and prevent them from achieving anything.

I forget what I was originally talking about.

Anyway, so yesterday they tried to directly confront the twinges / clenches, and pushed forward anyway, insisting that yes, I should look at my resume and then send it to the Manpower lady who asked for it.

Today, we tried to do the same thing again, but this time asking me why I have chosen not to try to go back to school in any way. I have lots and lots and lots of reasons why not, so this is not merely a matter of quickly changing my mind overnight and pushing a magic button that will make me go back to school tomorrow. It is

I did not finish that coherent thought, but that was the one I attempted today (or, ‘we’ attempted, with these mind controllers / inner therapists participating in my thought processes) before I took a nap.

I still suspect Judith Swack might be the cause of this, and would kind of like somebody to investigate her and see if they can catch her hiring people and paying money to people to use electronic weapons against her therapy clients. The worst of the attacks began when I was doing therapy with her over the phone. However, several other events were going on at the same time, and the local police might have also been involved in it, and also the people at State of the Art, Incorporated, where I was working at the time.

It would be helpful to know exactly who it is that is continuously attacking me on a daily basis in a harmful way. There are actually voices that seem to be trying to help, but there is definitely also somebody who is attacking me constantly in a very harmful way. I do not know if these are two separate groups of people, or if both the good and bad attacks are coming from the same group, using a ‘Good Cop / Bad Cop’ technique to pretend that they’re helping me, like whenever you hire the mafia for ‘protection,’ when the mafia themselves are the only ones who have ever threatened to harm you. The protection racket, where you pay them to leave you alone.

I have no way to know anything about who is attacking me, and I can only speculate. I have even less of an idea who has been attacking me my entire life since birth. That might be the military, or the government. Or, maybe churches? I can see signs that I was being attacked, in hindsight. It just wasn’t as obvious or severe until 2003, when they made themselves known to me. I still had chronic problems all my life, and wasn’t able to finish college. I still have the same problems now that I had back then, which is one reason I don’t go back to school. I can’t do my homework, especially not while something is attacking my brain and forcing me to lose focus every couple seconds. It would be a bad idea to go tens of thousands of dollars in debt, only to drop out of school because I just can’t do anything.

That’s one reason why bookkeeping seemed like such a good idea. It is simple to learn the basics of it, without school. You can start working at a job as a bookkeeper without going to college, although if you want to refer to yourself using the word ‘Accountant,’ then you have to have a license and have to have a college degree. Referring to yourself as a ‘bookkeeper,’ however, can be done by any asshole on the street. If Fred feels like calling himself a bookkeeper, then he can. If my cat feels like calling himself a bookkeeper, he can call himself a bookkeeper.

After working as a bookkeeper for a while, I could continue learning more, taking more tests, taking more classes. I wouldn’t have to just take the risk of jumping into huge debts without working in my field at all.

A nice thing about bookkeeping is that it’s universal – everybody needs it, everywhere, as long as they are participating in the global economy. It’s not a ‘real’ need, like food, but it’s a universal need as long as you are part of the global economy, and as long as you are participating in the legal system.

So, we tried to think about school, because if it is possible or helpful to do it, I would like to, however I also have real reasons why I don’t want to, and I need to discuss those reasons and try to find a way around them if possible. If I don’t want to go back to school because I’m afraid I’ll get eaten by alligators, then I could try to find an alligator-free school.

‘Jokes’ like that usually come from the voices and are usually symbolic. I bought this shirt at Goodwill that I jokingly call my ‘Reptilian Agenda’ t-shirt. It says it’s from Lincoln University, I think. On the back, it has this big drawing of a roaring
dragon-serpent thing, and it says, ‘Winning isn’t everything – it’s the ONLY thing.’ Wow! I just love winning! Winning is what I’m all about! I generally wear the shirt inside out. I just needed to grab a shirt quickly to help with decon. You find really, really, REALLY weird t-shirts with unthinkably weird stuff on them at Goodwill. Like who in their right mind would EVER make a t-shirt that says that. Truly ridiculous things. The slight nuances of difference between ‘everything’ and ‘the only thing’ – a difference in emphasis, or, an attempt to make it sound like you’re going to say something different and unexpected, only to find that you’re actually going to say the exact same thing you just said – no, I won’t even ponder this. Pondering this too much will kill the neurons in my brain.

Oh, yeah, I had that happen the other day. I was sick. I forget if I was sick with the stomach flu thing, or if I was sick with drug residues, or what. But I was reading about the Rothschild family (long story, I won’t go into it), and they said some lady left her husband to go be with a rap musician. I forget his name. DJ Electronica or something like that, I think.

Anyway, so I googled some of his lyrics. And, as I was sitting there, attempting to read the, quote, ‘lyrics,’ to this rap song, on the page, I felt as though I was literally killing my soul merely by struggling to read these insane, meaningless, horrible words. I don’t know if this was triggering my vulnerable functions in socionics, or what. Whatever it was doing, it was the sickest, most horrible violation of my soul. I tried, and tried, to read more lines. But the words were utterly meaningless gibberish, except, they weren’t. It wasn’t as meaningless as if it had been written by a computer algorithm. It had some meaning. And the meaning was absolute, loathsome, disgusting, horrific, soul-murdering evil. That is the only way I can describe it. I don’t even know which song it was or what it was about. I only know that to read those words was like stabbing myself repeatedly in the heart. I simply could not read them anymore, I felt so horribly violated. So, to soothe myself, I played a bunch of music that I had saved on youtube, and it made me feel better.

It is weird how these words had so much power to harm me so deeply. I can’t even explain how exactly they were harming me. It really was kind of like putting something bad, something poisonous, into my socionic vulnerable functions. Those functions could not process the information. If you are getting good and positive and nice
information in your socionic vulnerable functions, that’s kind of okay, although it still causes stress because your brain can’t process the information fast enough – that’s an extremely slow, extremely weak function. But if you are shoving toxic information into that function, on a day when you’re already feeling sick for some unknown reason, and I was that day, then it gives you that unbearable feeling of soul-murdering insanity that I experienced.

Rap music. Very short sentences. I couldn’t stand the short sentences, just a couple words each, quickly changing from one sentence to another, jumping from one random meaningless piece of gibberish to another random meaningless piece of gibberish to another, to another, to another, tiny little short fragments of horrible gibberish. He might as well have picked random words out of the dictionary and strung them together, except it DID still have some meaning, somehow. I could discern tiny bits and pieces of meaningful thought in there. He was saying something. It really seemed like he was trying to say something.

To do justice to black people, I would say, I suspect that black people are the victims of electronic mind control EVEN MORE than I myself am. Whoever writes these rap lyrics is probably receiving a constant stream of electronic noise inside his brain providing him with random word associations that have to be made into lyrics. I’ve experienced this random noise. I’ve experienced the stream of random words. However, somehow it became socially acceptable to write streams of totally random noise and make them into songs and get rich selling them.

I can write blogs. I could turn my sentences into tiny little fragments, then put them to music. But they wouldn’t sell, because they actually HAVE MEANING and are therefore less mysterious and less ‘interesting’ than a huge pile of totally random words that SEEM TO have some kind of meaning, somewhere. And the meaning is always some horrible negative emotion, like hatred, or all kinds of emotions that I don’t have the words for. That is the one underlying theme behind it all.

I know that I constantly spew hate, too, especially when I am sick. And I socionics exists, and whatever type that rapper was, he was probably some type that is incompatible with me, and if I was forced to randomly guess his type, I would have to say he’s probably my conflictor, but I could be wrong. I honestly have no idea what type he is, and I haven’t watched any youtube interviews of him to get an impression of his personality. I only know that his lyrics were triggering the most painful, most sickening, most deeply violating socionic functions that I have, so I suspect he has to be my conflictor.

I’m going to post this. There’s some laundry waiting to be dried.

I experienced zero completed coherent thoughts, but at least I *began* attempting to form one today. But I followed through on yesterday’s coherent thought, which was that I must send the resume to the lady at Manpower.

I accidentally bought shirts containing polyester

May 27, 2016

I found some plain t-shirts at Michael’s Arts and Crafts. I’m having trouble with the shift key so my letters might not capitalize again. Anyway these shirts start to smell because they contain polyester mixed with cotton. I mistakenly thought they were all cotton. Now I keep hearing voices in my head every day telling me that I smell and that’s the reason why Mike allegedly wants to throw me out of the house. I normally never buy polyester blended shirts partly for this reason. I just desperately needed new shirts because of
decontamination. I greatly improve when I get rid of the shirts that have any pesticide on them from McD, and now that I took St. John’s Wort (only two fresh leaves, eaten several days ago) I now have to do a major decontamination, merely because of touching the plant and also from excreting the metabolites outwards from my skin onto everything. Now I’m having severe fatigue from SJW and also sexual changes which are a nuisance. I’m also having behavior changes and I’m smiling and grinning and smirking, the result of the antidepressant in SJW. Mania. So I need a major decon now. And the polyester shirts are unacceptable because even immediately after being washed they still smell like sweat, forever and ever, whereas cotton ones don’t. I don’t want to be harassed by voices in my head telling me every day that I smell. I have to go catch the bus – I’m about to go grocery shopping.

Elevated risk of hurling today

May 26, 2016

I was doing fine. I went out for a walk up in the fields where they spray the waste water. Maybe I caught a virus up there by inhaling the water, or maybe it came from the rain, which started as I was on my way home. Maybe the food I ate from the fridge was spoiled. I’d kind of like to throw it away, but I’m not going to do that now – I’ll do it later.

I had just eaten some corned beef and a glass of milk. I actually felt hungry and felt like I had some kind of craving, and I wanted sugar in the milk. I drank that, went upstairs, was just about to do some stuff, just about to take a shower and change clothes and then maybe work on job hunting, but no – that was not going to happen – all of a sudden I was about to hurl.

So I ran into the bathroom, had diarrhea, but as always, I try very hard not to vomit unless I absolutely have no choice. So I just sat down on the bathroom floor with my forehead pressed against my arms, leaning on the side of the bathtub, for several minutes, and didn’t vomit. But I certainly won’t be eating anything else now, and when I feel well enough I will go throw away the leftover food that I ate that could’ve been spoiled. I don’t know if I have a virus or just ate something spoiled.

I only throw up like once every five or ten years. Seriously, hardly ever. When I do, it’s REALLY unusual, and I fight very hard not to do it. Other people are like ‘just do it and get it over with,’ but I can’t do that.

Opening The Book of Disclosures to everyone

May 24, 2016

I spent two and a half hours meditating this afternoon, to prepare myself to fill out two pieces of paper, a job application. I know I spent two and a half hours, because I set the stopwatch on my phone. I did not have any major insights today, which suggests that yesterday’s insights probably came from other people who were off work on Sunday and doing church-related activities, such as providing synthetic telepathy for prayer-makers in need. They’re all too busy on Monday, and nobody prays on Monday, so I don’t get any major insights when I meditate on Monday. I’m only half joking about this. I have noticed in reality that my mind control attacks are often less severe on holidays, as though even mind control victims are allowed to get a reprieve on Christmas.

Today, when I went out walking, when I rode the bus into town to drop off my application, I went to Westerly Parkway where I lived in 2014 and 2015. I lived in that general part of town during the time when I knew Jesse. I lived on Mt. Nittany when I first met him at Taco Bell, but I moved into the Chinese Apartment in 2014 and was close enough to him that he could walk over to my house. Then I went to Mary Jo’s house, which was also nearby on that street.

I remembered Max, my little gray cat. He was a selfish bastard who didn’t love me, he only wanted the food. But I loved him anyway. I would let him go out and he would run around, and then he would wait in the bushes at the house across the street. When I came home from work, I’d call for him and he’d run out of the bushes to come over and get his food. ‘Ungrateful,’ that was the word I was looking for. He was a wild little cat. I loved him and accepted him for what he was, instead of blaming him for being a wild little cat. I wanted a cat door so he could come and go as he pleased, but it wasn’t my house and I couldn’t do things like make cat doors, while living with a lady who didn’t want her own cat to go outside.

I got thrown out of her house and I went to live in the woods at Walnut Springs Park. I took Max and Jacob with me. I let them out. Jacob was neutered and declawed, so he was too timid to ever wander, and he stayed nearby and survived. Max was intact, not declawed and not neutered, so he tended to wander. I wanted him that way. I want all cats to be that way. But I don’t want them to get hit by cars. I want them to live in places where the highways are far, far, far away, so far away that they never get hit by cars. So I lost Max.

I remember him every time I walk through that neighborhood where I lived at Mary Jo’s.

I’ve been having a reaction to unknown substances, and need to do a decon and get some clean clothes. Something has intermittently been putting me into a strange, sad, bad mood. I was like that today. I wandered around in the Westerly Parkway area where I used to live, thinking about Max, feeling the pain of his loss, while knowing I don’t want to get another cat either, not until I have a good place to put them.

And I also remembered the pain of Jesse. Jesse, who I thought was my socionic dual for a long time, but eventually decided, or was persuaded by the voices, that he was what’s called an ‘illusionary’ or ‘mirage’ type, or some people call it the ‘contrary’ type, I think – there are a couple different names for it. Basically, I’m a SLI and he’s an SEE. They look like your dual, but over time, you find out that there’s sort of a barrier that the two of you can’t really get past. You can love each other, and Jesse and I do love each other, but there is something that keeps us from getting completely into each other the way we are supposed to. We can’t help each other enough. We can’t easily make decisions together or cooperate together as well as we ought to.

So when I think of him, when I remember the past couple years of knowing him, meeting him at the end of 2013, in December, struggling to befriend him, but finally succeeding, then losing him again to the army – I remember these years, and that location where we lived, with pain and nostalgia, with a feeling that it was wonderful, but also sad and incomplete. I loved living there. I was happy there. I was happy being just down the street from Jesse.

But at the same time, we never got to spend enough time together, and I wasn’t 100% welcome at his house, not completely. His family accepted me just a tiny bit reluctantly. They were nice to me, but with just a little bit of reserve. I’m 20 years older than he is, and, in spite of not knowing socionics, most people instinctively feel who is most compatible with them, and who is not, and surely, they feel that I am an outsider in their family somehow in a way they can’t explain. I’m different from them, just a little bit.

They’re also a lot more Christian than I am. I’m officially an atheist, but I am also officially a spiritual person who meditates and thinks about stuff like the human soul, and I am also officially the one and only existing member of a religion called Anaya, which will die with me unless I create disciples.

I wandered to the little wetland thing across from Weis Market, and I picked a branch of St. John’s Wort growing behind a bench, which I knew was there because I had seen it blooming before. It’s perennial, so it will always grow there. I nibbled two leaves off it. It’s very weak. I think St. John’s Wort doesn’t produce a lot of poison if it’s living in comfortable conditions, and we’ve had lots of rain, and that plant growing there must be having an easy life right now, so it doesn’t feel the need to produce a whole lot of toxins to protect it from grazing animals. It doesn’t feel threatened. So I barely got any medicinal effect from it, but just a little bit. I was already in a strange, sad, nostalgic mood before then.

I bought some conditioner at Weis because other stores don’t have that particular brand of conditioner, and then, I knew I had to get home sometime, although I really wanted to keep wandering around the area, musing and remembering things, grieving for Max, grieving for Jesse, remembering the time I spent there, remembering how I was happy, yet still not quite happy, how I enjoyed the time but yet did not quite have everything I wanted – it was happiness, with a hole in it, but it was still happiness. I’ve had that happen before. Happiness, but with something missing. I guess I was happier than usual when I lived in that area, near Jesse. I was happier than usual. For a couple years.

I rode the bus and had to sit a while waiting to transfer to the next bus. I watched the swallows flying overhead. They were not barn swallows, my favorite kind – they were the other kind that don’t have a V-shaped tail. I’m not sure what they’re called – it might be ‘tree swallows.’ They don’t fly as gracefully as the barn swallow, which is a beautiful blue color with orange underneath, and blue and orange are both my favorite colors, and they have the V-shaped tail, and narrow wings which enable them to turn suddenly. Still, I watched the other swallows, whatever kind they are, the ones that fly above the town.

I had been influenced by the St. John’s Wort after all, because I remembered a lifelong dream, which was to fly with my own wings under my own power. I don’t want a jet pack. I don’t want to merely glide with a hang glider. I want to actually flap my wings like a bird and control where I’m going, and I want to fly silently without some noisy engine setting me on fire and making me lose control and crash into the ground at 50 mph.

I realized that people would say the exact same things that they said about the magnet powered motor: they would say it breaks the laws of physics. They would say all these reasons why it can’t be done. I have come to understand that these people are brainwashed trolls, even if they are doing it by accident, even if they don’t realize they are brainwashed trolls enforcing conformity. I think I know which socionic personality type they often are, too.

I know I’ve heard all the arguments before. We don’t have
human-powered flapping-wing flight because… fill in the blank. The wings would have to be a hundred feet long to lift something as heavy as a human. It breaks the laws of physics, blah blah blah. Yes, yes, yes. I know.

All of those things are irrelevant and have nothing to do with the reason why we don’t have readily available human powered flight with flapping wings. We don’t have that because nobody has committed themselves to doing it, and if they ever succeeded, the information did not get shared with us, and nobody finished troubleshooting it to make it safe for everyone to use, and the monopolists who make the laws and the people who control which products get sold in the store decided that they didn’t want us to live in a world where individual people were able to just flap their wings and fly wherever and whenever they wanted. I’m sure it exists somewhere though. Somebody has done it.

If you look up this kind of thing, you will find youtube videos of people who did make some kind of homemade flying machine, then died after using it a few times. There was one traumatic video where the guy had a camera attached to the underside of the wing to film himself flying, and there he was, going along, when suddenly his safety belt snapped and disconnected for no reason, just because it wasn’t hooked on strongly enough, and he was hanging on the bar with his hands while moving really fast and blowing in the wind, and he couldn’t hang on, and he let go and fell and died. You couldn’t see the actual death in the video because the glider just flew on without him, but the person who posted the video said that he died. They retrieved the video from the crashed vehicle.

I thought about disclosure. Supposedly, the human race is only ‘ready,’ quote unquote, to receive just a few tiny drops of disclosure at a time. But I disagree. I think we are ready just fine to receive the whole thing at once. We will get the entire book of disclosure. It will be a huge, gigantic set of books, not just one giant book sitting on a pedestal, but a whole library of books that size. They will open the warehouse where they put the wooden box containing the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones’s Raiders of the Lost Ark. Anyone will be able to just walk into that warehouse and pick a box off the shelf, take it home, and see what kind of surprise is inside.

So we will get, for instance, individual flying machines. People will start flying them around and annoying everyone, but don’t worry, you’ll be able to retaliate using your newly disclosed Laser Beam Weapons to shoot them down. But don’t worry about civil war with everybody running around shooting each other, because they will have also released the Cure For Death and also the Individual Local Non-Paradoxical Time Machine, so you can go back in time a couple minutes to fix whatever you screwed up, without worrying that you’re causing contradictions that will distort the spacetime continuum.

In all these huge books of disclosure, there will be tons and tons and tons of junk. Garbage. Stuff that nobody bothered to disclose because it just didn’t work very well. They did have an individual flapping flying device, but it barely worked at all and the last person who used it died in it. That failed machine is sitting in the warehouse in one of the wooden boxes, not really implemented, but not really discarded either.

So we have this overwhelming crapload of disclosure in the Total Disclosure Library, but only a tiny percentage of it is really useful and interesting. There are a few things that everybody wants to know, such as ‘Are we being visited by aliens in UFOs?’ and ‘Where is the cure for cancer?’ and ‘Can I go back in time?’ and so on. And ‘I want to teleport myself to Hawaii.’

But then, for every big popular disclosure like those, there are hundreds and hundreds of not-so-interesting, not-so-useful
disclosures, which can only be appreciated by people who are knowledgeable enough to understand what they even mean. They’re so technical, with so much minutiae, that they just don’t mean anything to the average person. All these esoteric disclosures will come along with the big ones. And you have to hunt through hundreds and hundreds of lines and pages in the library of disclosures to find anything that you can even understand or apply right away.

So, what happens when they open all these books is, nothing at all. The people who have power now will still have power, just like after Edward Snowden. Snowden disclosed something to us, but the people who had power then haven’t lost any power, and the world continues to be exactly as it was before Snowden disclosed anything.

Anytime something is disclosed, it still has to be found, and understood, and appreciated, by someone knowledgeable enough to realize what it is and what it’s useful for, someone who knows a guy or girl who would want to have this thing. You might see it in the book, but draw a total blank, not knowing what the heck it means or who on earth would ever want to know this, or why would anybody ever want to do that, or what could that thing ever be useful for. It’s an overwhelming amount of information.

So there will have to be Disclosure Salesmen and Disclosure
Investigators and Disclosure Interpreters and Disclosurologists who are constantly reading the books and deciding what is interesting and useful, and what isn’t, and seeking out the people who would want to know about it, and getting the venture capital to make a factory that will make this thing. Just merely disclosing stuff and opening all the books doesn’t make all these inventions magically appear in your living room that very evening. You still have to wait years for the factories to start producing them, and only after somebody somewhere realized this was valuable and worth doing. And if your factory is making something, then somebody needs to give it to a distributor to get it all over the place. And if you aren’t advertising it on mainstream television, then it could be really great but nobody even knows it exists.

Or people could know it exists and they’re buying it on the small scale, when what we really need is for someone to do it on the large scale, like free energy machines. Sure, individual people are making various sorts of machines, by themselves. But what we really need is for those machines to be scaled up so that they can run an entire apartment complex or an entire skyscraper building, and somebody needs to sell those systems to the people who build the buildings. That means you have to figure out who it is that designs and builds a skyscraper or an apartment complex, and you have to be a salesman and tell them that they don’t want to use a normal electrical power line, or a normal propane tank for the stove, or a normal oil heater, but instead they want the entire apartment or skyscraper to use the Free Energy System instead.

And guess what, even after Full Disclosure, with Open Books, the Open Library, and the Open Indiana Jones Ark of the Covenant Warehouse, the people who build the apartment complexes will STILL refuse to switch over to using free energy machines in their apartment buildings, just because they don’t want to do something abnormal that nobody else is doing that hasn’t been done before.

Disclosures take a very, very long time to trickle around through society. That is the reason why I believe we should not hesitate, but should instead just open the entire book and do a full disclosure of all the stuff that the government is keeping secret, right now, today, because in reality, it will have hardly any impact at all for a very, very long time. For the vast majority of people, life will just go on as usual like it always does, and they’ll be more worried about working at their jobs and paying the bills and raising their kids than they are about a big giant library of technical stuff and secrets and incriminating emails from politicians. Full Disclosure, and Total Implementation In Everybody’s Backyard Right Now, are two entirely different things.

No, seriously, the bead stones are VERY helpful

May 23, 2016

I used the beads again today.  I just pressed them against my skin in various places, then meditated with them there.  I meditated on things I need to think about, and plans and decisions I need to make, and preparations for the near future.  I put a bunch of the beads on my face over my eyes, and I put a couple strings of the beads onto my abdomen, over my liver and intestines, because when I’m thinking about anything that causes anxiety, I can feel my gallbladder trying to clench but being unable to – I’m still sure it has gallstones – and I can feel my intestines trying to clench too, when I get anxious.  This is why I literally have no gall.  I don’t have the gall to do anything that takes courage, because my physical gallbladder won’t squeeze out any gall when I’m scared.

I have observed in all these years of being attacked by electronic weapons, since 2003 when I became aware of it, that the attackers never stop attacking me voluntarily just to be nice.  If they stop attacking me, it’s because they *can’t*.  The only time the attacks ever change or stop (temporarily) is if I travel someplace very far out of my usual circles, go to a very strange location that I would never go to, keep moving around to unpredictable places, or go to someplace that has some kind of rudimentary shielding.

I’ve never been anyplace that had super hardcore shielding that was deliberately made to block electronic attacks, but I think I’ve noticed some comfort from going inside stone buildings, like a stone church.  It wasn’t a shugilite church, it was just stone.

I noticed changes in the phenomena when I was lying on the earth weeks and weeks ago, before this cold spell.  It really must be true that lying directly on the ground helps to dissipate electromagnetic energy.  It did not stop the attacks, but the sensation of being disturbed and disrupted and interrupted by them was reduced, as in, they had less effect, and also the constant background radiation had less effect too.  Even if I’m not being attacked, I believe that the background noise from all the cell phones, weather radar, and everything else is interfering with my brain and body.

Well, it is similar with the beads.  These are short little strings of semiprecious stone beads, nothing in particular, although I did go buy tourmaline because I read that it generates electrons (I didn’t feel anything different from what I felt with the other stones, though!).  I only know that I have loved, absolutely loved and desired, semiprecious stones, beads, and crystals my whole life.  I felt that they should be magical, they must be magical, although I wasn’t able to do anything like shoot beams of light out of them or do telekinesis with them.  And I haven’t had any stones or beads of any kind for years and years, because I’ve been getting rid of my contaminated belongings, so I didn’t buy anything nice.

The beads are not expensive, just a couple bucks for a little string of stones.  Even in the worst case, if they got so badly contaminated that I had to get rid of them, it would only be a couple bucks lost.  It isn’t like these are rubies and sapphires.  Although, I would be very curious to find out if precious gems had any unusual effects or sensations when I touched them.

It actually amazes me that I have found something that almost, kind of, works!  I’m not saying that this is the one big thing that’s going to turn my life around once and for all, but rather, it makes a small difference that helps.  That’s all.  This tiny little difference makes me hopeful.  It makes me think, maybe all I need is a shield of stone and crystal.  Maybe it doesn’t have to be all that expensive.  Maybe that would help enough, just enough, that I could think more clearly and make decisions.

I dreaded the thought of trying to make a ‘real’ shield out of toxic copper and other metals and expensive shielding materials that I would have to buy online.  What if I could just use stones and crystals instead – it would feel more magical, more wonderful, more beautiful, more earthy, and more in line with my vision of how I want the world to be.  Stones are primitive.  Stones don’t violate my rules about how much manufacturing and industry and chemistry that I want to see going on in the world.  It doesn’t take a smoke-spewing factory to produce some stones that were dug out of the ground.  Mining is dangerous and deadly, but it could be done carefully.  Stones don’t require quite as much of a global economic system – some kind of stone is available anywhere, albeit maybe not fancy crystals or beautiful semiprecious gemstones.

I was lying there thinking, with the beads over my eyes, and some of them on my abdomen, and some held between my two hands.  I also stroked them over both hands in the beginning, before putting them on my eyes.  I was able to focus *just enough* that I could finish thinking a few coherent thoughts about the future.  I have to get a job, and I probably have to move out of this house soon, although I don’t know when exactly.  It’s uncertain at this point.  But I was able to think a coherent, uninterrupted thought for a few fractions of a second longer, just long enough to make the thoughts more useful, more practical, of greater value, more convincing, more understandable, more integrated into my vision of the future.  The thoughts were *actable*, just like the thoughts I was thinking while lying on the cool green mossy earth weeks ago.

During that session where I was lying on the moss, I was able to decide to go for a bookkeeping job.  I think that might have also been when I decided I would like to go to a career counselor.  While earthing, I was able to focus just enough to muster the will, to create a vision of the future, a simple, practical, actable vision (oops, I need to figure out which one of these stones I’m allergic to – something gave me a rash on my eyelid which is itching now – it probably has nickel in the stone).

But it’s not easy for me to do that kind of earthing all the time, because it is extremely cold, all the time, even in the summer.  The soil is always 55 degrees underground in the caves, and the soil above ground is not much warmer than that, and it drains away all my body heat, giving me hypothermia.  It’s also very wet, and it’s been raining for weeks, and also, I am in a location where the neighbors can see me lying on the ground, no matter where I go around the house, although I suppose I could kind of avoid being seen, at least partly.

So I can use beads from the comfort of my bed, under my blankets, with the heating pad turned on, without getting rained on or seen by the neighbors.

If I had to make a ‘scientific’ (ugh, I try to avoid using the word ‘science’ as much as possible – the word tastes bad in my mouth) explanation of what the stones are doing, I would have to say that they really do conduct or distribute electromagnetic energy and radio waves somewhat.  They somehow interact with the field of radio waves and background noise around me.  It is a material property.  You’d be able to find out about this if, say, you were reading about the people who use radio waves to look for petroleum deposits underground.  They would know that different kinds of stones and soil respond differently to the radio waves.

I know this is going to sound trivial, but if you think it’s trivial, that means you don’t understand just HOW HARD it is for me to think even the simplest, most basic, most banal of thoughts without being disturbed by attacks or background noise (I have earplugs in to reduce auditory noise too, but I’m referring to radiation, not just audio).

While meditating with the beads over my face today, I was able to clearly imagine that what I need for the upcoming move is a wagon or wheelbarrow of some sort, to make it easy to carry all the heavy bags long distances.  It was so hard to carry things down that path into the woods.  I had help from Jason to carry them out last time.

I don’t really want just a dolly, because it has small wheels, and no sides.  The small wheels would drag on the rocks of the dirt path, and the rocks would go between the wheel and the metal part, catching in there so the wheel wouldn’t turn.  The dolly has no sides, so the stuff has to be strapped on somehow, or just held on by the person pulling it.  A wagon has sides and is horizontal, so bags won’t fall out, and its wheels are taller and less likely to catch rocks.

As trivial as this sounds, I was able to clearly imagine this simple thing, this simple, basic, ordinary thing that everyone else on earth takes for granted – of *course* you should be able to think about how you are going to move your belongings from one place to another when you have to relocate.  Everyone else can do that, but I can’t, because my brain is always either being attacked, or getting interference from background radio.

But when I was lying in bed with strings of stone beads draped over my eyes and my face, I was able to focus just enough to grasp this simple thought about how helpful it would be if only I had a wagon with wheels large enough to go over some gravel on a dirt pathway.  You really can’t imagine how hard it is for me to think, the rest of the time.  I am functioning at the absolute minimum level needed to survive, to simply prevent death.  My brain sends the signals for my heart to keep beating and my intestines to digest the food and my lungs to keep breathing – or maybe my spinal cord does that.  I’m able to keep on breathing and circulating blood, and I can make my limbs move and keep my balance well enough to walk, but that’s seriously all that I can do.  I cannot think even the simplest thoughts that rise above the minimum needed to perform basic bodily functions.

I am telling you, that when I had just a few stone beads lying on my body and my face in various places, I was able to focus enough to form a few simple, clear thoughts about the future, thoughts that were practical and actable.  I can’t even do that with EFT tapping.  I get zapped VERY badly while doing EFT tapping.  Whatever progress I make with the tapping is instantly destroyed a second later when my body gets hit with an electric cattle prod.

I bought a string of tourmaline chips which are kind of sharp and pointy and irregular, and I don’t like those as much because I can’t roll them over the skin.  I have to just leave that string lying in one place because it’s sharp.  So it’s better for me to have smooth stones.  I’m not rolling the beads over my skin most of the time, though.  I mostly just let them sit there while I’m thinking.

Again, it seems trivial, but you have no idea how much of a difference it would make for my life if I could only have just one single coherent thought per day.  Just one coherent thought that was clear, solid, and actable.  I normally go months and months without having a single coherent thought.  I know it seems like I’m thinking when I write blogs, but that’s just a load of crap that comes out automatically, like a bodily function.  It’s a waste product.  It’s not useful.  I’m talking about real thoughts that actually make a difference and improve my life.

It’s those small things, like buying a wagon so I can more easily carry my belongings when I move, or deciding that I need to have a cardboard box to put all my mail and papers in so that they won’t be lying in a big pile on the floor.  Those simple, pathetic little thoughts are the thing that has been taken away from me, leaving me disabled and unable to make even the tiniest improvements in my quality of life, for decades upon decades.

Those are the type of thoughts that I need the most.  They add up over time, making permanent improvements in my infrastructure, so that from then on, everything in my life is just a tiny bit easier.  I can find something more easily, or reach something more easily, or I have a little more space in all the piles of junk, or I can move more easily around some obstacle, or my workflow is a tiny bit smoother.  After I’ve fixed those little things, I have more energy for other things, just a tiny crumb of energy here and there, but those tiny crumbs add up.  They reduce my overall stress.  I’m telling you, those are the type of thoughts that I’m able to think about when I have stone beads lying on my skin.

I’ll go ahead and upload the photos.  I need to do some stuff today.  I have to get on the bus and go to town.

It’s strange though, I wasn’t comfortable keeping the beads on permanently.  I wanted a rest from them last time.  I also think they might possibly put a substance onto my skin which is being absorbed transdermally, some kind of minerals, since they are stones after all and stones are made of minerals.  I’m probably getting some kind of ions.  There are all sorts of ions they could be giving me through the skin.  I just should try to avoid nickel, although the rash seems to have been temporary.  It’s still a slightly itchy feeling.  I don’t know how these stones were processed, either, and I would want to find a supplier who used no chemicals at all.  There are no mandatory labeling laws for the ingredients of physical objects that you aren’t swallowing, because hardly anybody is aware of the phenomenon of transdermal absorption of substances.

Okay, photos.  Anyway, I was saying, I probably don’t want to just go around wearing stone necklaces all the time.  I felt a little weird after touching the stones for a long time.


I’m not able to fix the computer right now

May 22, 2016

My computer is no longer letting me watch any kind of videos on youtube or anywhere else without having this lockup every couple seconds. It’s like ‘one, two, three, lock. one, two, three, lock.’ Over and over again. It’s not even clipping out on the performance of the CPU when this happens. I know if the CPU was reaching the top it would do that, but I’m watching the performance monitor and that’s not happening.

If I were using St. John’s Wort with tobacco (transdermal residue) as I was years ago, then I would have the wherewithal to clean off my computer. I cannot do any computer cleanup projects until after I get a job, and then, after getting a job, I’ll be so busy and so exhausted that I won’t have any energy left to fix the computer. I do not need a new computer. I need to clean the one I have. I can’t even go buy a thumb drive at this time. I have no place to put my files while cleaning it. I have no CD drive with which to reinstall Windows after cleaning it. I have so many things wrong with this computer which have accumulated over years and years.

So the people in the videos I’m watching will move for a couple seconds, then freeze, then move for a couple seconds, then freeze.

I want to use a separate internet which is owned, operated,
controlled, and protected, by human beings who have souls, instead of sociopaths. This means sociopaths will be physically prevented from using this internet, and they have to be physically blocked from violating this internet in the ways that they normally do, like, for instance, the NSA digging holes in the ground so that they can dig down to buried cables underground and hack into them physically at the cable level. People without souls will not be allowed to use this internet or interact with it in any way. I want a secure haven for people who have souls so that they will not be bothered anymore by the people who do not have souls.

Other foul words for this phone

May 20, 2016

I truly cannot convey how much I hate this phone, or how intense is the hatred. I can only do so by renaming this ‘SmartPhone’ something more appropriate. I am calling it such things as (in no particular order):

1. ShatterPhone
2. ShitPhone
3. StupidPhone
4. ShartPhone

Number 4, ShartPhone, not only rhymes with SmartPhone, but also is vulgar and disgusting enough to convey the level of absolute hatred I feel for this phone. Shart = Shit + Fart, when you have diarrhea and you pass gas and some diarrhea leaks out. This is not a word that I normally use on a daily basis, but now that I have purchased this phone, I have a newfound use for the word Shart.

And yet, none of these words quite satisfy my need to obliterate with my laser beam eyes every one of these phones in existence, to annihilate them, to set fire to them and watch them burn while I dance with glee. I need yet another word to rename this phone. Maybe it doesn’t have to rhyme with ‘smart,’ and maybe it doesn’t have to begin with the letter S. It just has to convey the powerful intensity of my loathing while also accurately describing the things that I hate about this phone.

I hate this phone: the ShatterPhone

May 20, 2016

I am in the process of activating my new … I need some other word besides ‘smartphone.’ Something which conveys the feeling I have about it. Attempting to set up this phone, to even assemble it, is about as much fun as being shot through the abdomen with a harpoon gun and calling the harpoon stuck through my body ‘my new friend.’ Hello new friend!

The back cover, which has to be put on and taken off – it was off originally, and I had to put the battery in place and then put the cover on – has this teeny, tiny little indentation in the lower left corner, which you have to stick something into if you want to ever remove the back cover again. I had already put the battery in and put the cover on, but then decided to remove the cover because I thought I was missing something – the instructions were mentioning something about installing the SIM card or something, as though it wasn’t already in there. I couldn’t see any such thing anywhere, but I wanted to look again.

I am taking the attitude that this is only a test phone, an
experimental phone, not the real thing, not something permanent that has to be kept in perfect condition. If I were trying to keep this phone in perfect condition, my heart would already be broken, because merely by attempting to reopen the back plastic cover, I have already damaged the phone. I had to stick the blade of a pair of scissors into that tiny little indentation in the lower left corner to pry open this fragile, thin, breakable piece of plastic, leaving all these big chew marks all around the tiny little indentation. I can already see that if I remove this plastic cover more than a couple times, some kind of tiny invisible little plastic clips are going to snap, making it impossible from then on to ever keep the cover in place without duct tape. It’s just a tiny little invisible fragile plastic ridge holding the cover on. So I am going to choose to assume, from day one, that this thing is a piece of garbage that is going to the landfill, and not even before very long.

It took A LOT of force to pry open the back cover, as in, I had to PUSH HARD by TWISTING the blade of the scissors in that little indentation, and then GRAB AND RIP the plastic cover in several directions to force it to disconnect from the invisible little plastic ridges.

My phone also makes annoying noises by itself. It did that when I accidentally pushed the button to turn it on, and it did it again just now, probably to tell me that either the battery is finished charging, or maybe that the phone is powering down because I left it sitting there for a few minutes. Spontaneous bursts of loud music from the phone are going to annoy me very, very much, and very quickly, as in now, and already. I do not need to hear dingy little melodies every single time that the phone ‘does something.’ I am going to have to go into the menus, deep, deep, deep inside a thousand complicated menus, into the deepest secret most inaccessible places, to find the settings that tell the phone to shut the fuck up unless I TELL it to make some noise.

I remind myself, I am not doing this because I want to enjoy this phone. I did not buy this phone to make myself happy. I bought it because I will need to upgrade the phone this year because they’re getting rid of the 2G network, and because even though I already have a Lousy Garbage phone that still works, the sound is almost totally inaudible, and I thought it would be worthwhile to try a different brand of phone to find out if anybody else was capable of designing a phone that is capable of performing the function that a phone is designed for, which is, talking and listening.

So this phone 1. is a flimsy piece of garbage that will end up in the landfill, so don’t be upset by the fact that every single piece of it is going to be broken or damaged in some way within the first week that I own it, and 2. I am not doing this for fun or to make myself happy or to enjoy a wonderful new appliance that I voluntarily chose on my own because of how much I loved the design.

I have decided that I am the only human being on this planet who is capable of designing any appliances that function. Properly designed appliances simply do not exist. THEY DO NOT EXIST. Period.

I know from experience with my Lousy Garbage phone that I am going to have to duct tape a piece of cotton string to the back of this phone to serve as a phone holder. My original Nokia phone has a little set of holes which are clearly designed for the purpose of attaching some kind of clip. Not so with the ShatterPhones! ShatterPhones are designed to be as slippery as possible, so that they slide out of your palm, slide out of your pants pockets, and shatter on the ground as often as possible, on a daily basis, to make more money for the phone sellers.

I don’t like the width of the phone. My hand is not that wide. My fingers don’t spread that far comfortably. It causes physical pain to the palm of my hand to hold a phone which is that width. My old phone is narrower and fits comfortably into my palm without causing pain and strain on the muscles and tendons of my hand.

You cannot imagine the hatred and loathing that I feel. I want to shoot flaming laser beams out of my eyeballs to burn this phone into a pile of molecules. And, I actually chose the phone that was LESS BAD out of all the possible choices – I know that. This is an Alcatel, and as such, it is not as bad as a Lousy Garbage. I read the reviews of this Alcatel phone, and somebody mentioned, WITH SURPRISE, that it was actually possible to HEAR on this phone, and that it was also FAST AND RESPONSIVE, as in, it doesn’t take several seconds for the software to respond when you touch it, it doesn’t take several seconds for your sound to be sent through the speaker or for you to receive the sound coming from the earpiece, and you are able to CLEARLY HEAR what the person is saying to you, while they, too, shockingly enough, can also clearly hear what you are saying to them. An amazing new development in technology: Phones you can actually talk and hear on!

Okay, I’m going to go back to working on this ShatterPhone.

Smartphones shine a light into your head, which harms the brain. Also, more about free energy magnet motors.

May 18, 2016

9:39 AM 5/18/2016

I didn’t realize this. It was a demonstration ‘they’ did, as a warning.

The summary is, shining light through your skull into your brain is bad – it causes brain burn. Smartphones shine light through your skull, and I just bought a smartphone for the first time, after avoiding them for years, deliberately, just so I wouldn’t get addicted to fooling around on the phone, and also because I hate all new software and all complicated designs of appliances that ought to be simple and functional instead.

So, here is the story.

I went to refill my 2004 Nokia Tracfone the other day, and got a message saying that my 2G phone would no longer work anymore, because they were going to upgrade their networks this year. That phone is great. I can actually hear on it, perfectly clearly. It’s simple and it has no features. A featureless phone, with nothing but buttons, is a wonderful thing, but alas, such a thing is beyond the conception of businessmen, who must add complexity and features to everything they sell, while sacrificing function.

I also bought an LG tracfone a couple years ago, but I hate it and use it only as a backup. The sound quality is terrible. It is so shockingly bad that I just cannot imagine that any phone company that takes itself seriously and isn’t ashamed to go out in public would ever make a phone with sound quality that bad.

I googled it, and discovered that the letters ‘LG’ stand for ‘Lousy Garbage,’ and everyone else had the same experience I was having. I never want to buy another LG phone again, no matter what style of phone it is. Anyone who can allow even one single phone, whose *only* purpose is for TALKING THROUGH, to go to market and be so inaudible that you have to shout ‘What? What? I’m sorry, what was that?’ thirty times during your conversation can never be trusted to *ever* produce a good phone ever again.

I was deciding what kind of new phone to buy to replace my old tracfone (since my only backup, which is 3G and will still work, is the LG phone), and I saw a bunch of LGs, but didn’t want any of them. I decided the Alcatel seemed better, based on its reviews.

I read one review of an LG phone, after googling ‘All LG phones have horrible sound quality,’ and the guy who was writing the review (which was, obviously, not just an unpaid user review, but a ‘review’ by somebody who was being paid to push the phones) said something unthinkable, to the effect of, ‘So you’ve heard that these phones have problems with sound quality? Well, don’t let that minor detail deter you from picking up one of these great phones! Here are all the reasons why these phones are awesome, in spite of the fact that you can’t use them for what phones are designed to do!’

So, after a bunch of hassle, I just went to the store and bought the Alcatel smartphone for my new tracfone. I tried to buy it online, using the special discount for tracfone users who were upgrading their phones, but it wouldn’t send it to my address because it was just a box at the UPS store. I had a flash of rage and nearly ripped my own face off with my fingernails (not quite sure why I was so easily enraged yesterday, but I’ve been sick on and off for a couple days, and I think actually I might be drinking spoiled milk – long story – so I’ll go a day without the milk and see if it improves) when the web page told me I couldn’t have it delivered there, and I just gave up and bought it myself at the store without a discount.

I haven’t set it up yet. But last night, in the middle of the night, for no reason, in the dark, the voices in my head suggested that I do something to test my third eye, the pineal gland. People say the pineal gland is able to detect light, even though it is inside the brain, and it might be from some primordial eye we had long ago, or something. Light does shine through the skull to some extent, especially bright light.

So I spontaneously got the suggestion in the middle of the night to take my flashlight, turn it on, and press the light of the flashlight directly against my skull to find out how it felt for my pineal gland to see a bright light shining through my skull in the middle of the darkest part of the night, with my eyes closed. I did my best to completely block out the edges of the flashlight so I couldn’t see anything with my normal eyes. I wasn’t really sure what exactly I could see or feel, but I definitely felt something unpleasant, when the flashlight beam was shining directly into my skull. I actually felt like the inside of my brain *was* able to see or feel the flashlight somehow.

I did this in a bunch of different places on my skull, but wasn’t quite sure if the pineal gland was detecting anything or not.

About five minutes went by. I only had a vague feeling of discomfort and uneasiness. Then suddenly my adrenal gland fired off and I had a sudden panic attack out of nowhere, and felt like I was going to have a seizure. I felt a sensation of *wrongness*, as though something was very, very bad. In nature, you would never have a bright light shining on your brain, because flashlights didn’t exist in nature, and the only time such a bright light would hit your brain was if your skull was cracked open. So your body is receiving a signal that you have gotten a terrible, terrible injury, and your brain is being violated in a horrible, unnatural way.

Afterwards, I could feel, for many hours, and I still feel it now, that my brain is burned, like it has a sunburn. It’s a stinging sensation in my brain. I felt the same sensation when I uploaded long videos from my laptop over the wifi. I was sitting outside Barnes & Noble in my car, so it had to send the wifi a longer distance, which means it would have been very high strength. After doing this over several hours, I had severe and long lasting brain burn, and couldn’t think clearly, and felt as though I had done permanent damage to my brain by sitting right next to a wifi-emitting laptop that was sending out a huge amount of data. It’s that same feeling, although slightly less severe.

I didn’t know why ‘they’ suggested for me to do this all of a sudden, out of nowhere. But then, this morning, they reminded me that I had just bought a smartphone, after years of refusing to have one, and the smartphone will be shining a light into the side of my head constantly while I’m using it.

So there are actually not one, but two factors harming you by using a phone – the radiation emitted into your skull by the cell phone radio signal, and also, the ordinary light itself from the screen of your smartphone, which goes through the skull, is perceived by the pineal gland, and also burns your brain, which isn’t designed to protect itself against light. Maybe that is a benefit of having thick hair on top of the head. It blocks the light from affecting the brain.


If all goes well, I’m going to The Makespace later today. I feel like I’m about to start my period, and I *hope* today isn’t the day, because I also have a second job interview, and then I’m going to the Makespace afterwards. I’m going to pick up a fan to test the magnet powered fan.

At the Makespace, I could theoretically get support for hacking my own cell phones, so that I could have a working phone that didn’t have bad software and idiotic features that I don’t want.

However, in reality, I am not a maker and not a designer. I’m going there to pick up this fan, and I’m going there because I’ve wanted to go there for months, or years, even. And I was open to such ideas most likely because of the Siberian ginseng.

But I am mostly a person who is aware of things like the fact that apartment designers don’t plant an apple tree outside an apartment complex.

I am aware of how hard it is to get magnet motors into the general public in the USA. I actually have found out that it’s not a matter of inventing one that works – not anymore – there are dozens, upon dozens, of existing inventions based on similar concepts, and they work – and I did a google search and saw that working magnet motors are for sale on, labeled ‘free energy magnet motors,’ and made in a factory. So I could just start buying them and trying them out and seeing which ones worked the best and taking them apart and looking at their designs.

There are also a whole bunch of open source projects to design magnet motors that aren’t patented. What’s happening is, people are patenting magnet motor designs, and then the government is smacking a ‘top secret patent’ label on them, taking them away from their owners, not letting their owners use them or make them or profit from them, and hiding them away in a box somewhere labeled something to the effect of ‘ONLY EVIL TERRORISTS EVER USE THIS KIND OF THING.’ So we don’t have magnet motors here.

I have realized a few things about magnet motors. This comes from the voices in my head and is not my own thinking. I’m not an inventor or designer, although I might be better at working out the details of a design that somebody else made. No, they have told me about magnet motors.

1. Magnet motors are not a ‘closed system.’ In fact, it is physically impossible to create a ‘closed system,’ and so you might as well just ignore the second law of thermodynamics, which is what everybody tells me is being violated. That law only applies to a closed system and it is only an abstraction. The same law was used against author Julian Simon, by the depopulationists. Julian Simon wrote about the reasons why increasing population is beneficial (‘The Ultimate Resource.’).

2. Magnets are batteries. They hold stored energy. Neodymium magnets don’t demagnetize for an extremely long time. They might rust or corrode before they even demagnetize. So you can assume they are ‘perpetual,’ longer than the lifetime of a human.

If you’re solving math problems and using imaginary abstractions, then maybe you have to assume something is a ‘closed system’ in your imagination to set up the math problems. But that is not what I’m doing. I’m holding something in my hands and seeing it with my eyes. I’m not doing mathematical calculations. I’m troubleshooting an object that doesn’t work properly. It clearly and obviously is an open system. I’m touching it with my hands, and if the wheel doesn’t spin, I can spin it with my hands to help it along. It’s an obviously open system. If I make a perpetual motion machine, then just set it on the ground somewhere and let it run for a million years, it’s still sitting in an open system, and it could get crushed by a fallen tree, run over by a herd of buffalo, or, it could eventually get subsumed under a tectonic plate at the bottom of the ocean. The machine is an OPEN SYSTEM, not a closed system.

So, really, it’s a distraction to think about the machine you’re designing as a ‘closed system.’ This is a limiting way of thought that prevents you from thinking about ‘What can I do to make this work?’

You can use gravity. Run a ball down a hill. At the bottom of the hill, it stops. But it’s landed on a platform with a spring underneath it. The spring gets triggered when it senses the ball on the platform, and it springs the ball all the way back up to the top of the hill again, where it once again rolls down. The springing platform resets itself somehow before the ball gets down the hill. Perpetual motion machine in an open system! Nothing special.

When you get used to this idea, you realize how the whole concept of a ‘closed system’ is a totally meaningless abstraction that you pretty much never, ever, ever need to think about, no matter what you are designing or inventing. There is just simply no such thing as a closed system, ever, and you’re better off spending your energy thinking about things that are more productive, such as ‘How can I make this work? Why isn’t it working?’

There is nothing sacred, taboo, magical, impossible, or law-breaking about perpetual motion machines. They are always an open system, no matter what you do. They will always be vulnerable to getting hit by asteroids and run over by a herd of buffaloes, and eventually they will get subsumed under the tectonic plates and melted in the magma once again, even if they were successfully running all that time. There is no such thing as a closed system. Just totally ignore the concept of a closed system and the second law of thermodynamics, and just invent your machine as though you’ve never heard of the second law of thermodynamics. Just ask yourself, ‘How can I make this work?’

Answering that question might be extremely hard. I’m not saying it’s easy. If it’s extremely hard, people give up, or they keep trying but just can’t think of any new ideas. That’s legit, and it’s not your fault, and it doesn’t mean that you caved in to trolls. But just don’t let it be because you told yourself that a perpetual motion machine can never work because you can’t get more energy out than you put in to a closed system or whatever bullshit they try to tell you.

The other concept is, magnets are batteries. Magnets are made by shooting electricity through some metallic substances until they turn into a magnet, if I understand correctly. That energy is being stored inside the magnet – the battery – and it manifests in a strange form, this mysterious and incomprehensible force of magnetism. That force is the source of energy. You just have to figure out how to harness it.

It’s awkward to harness the force of a magnet. You can hold one magnet above another magnet, and push the magnet along the surface by repulsion. You can see it’s a force and it’s causing another object to move. The magnet motor designers tried to harness this force, and they have created a whole bunch of different designs to do so. They weren’t sitting there thinking to themselves the whole time, ‘Oh no! I’m trying to get more energy out than I put in to a closed system! It’s all over now!’ No, they were thinking to themselves that they need to somehow get around some kind of obstacle or problem that is happening, whether by using some kind of brute force, something clumsy and awkward and not very pretty, or maybe by creating some whole new design concept which is more complicated, more subtle, and harder to understand, but somehow it works, even though it’s beyond my comprehension.

The first magnet motor I ever saw was so simple and basic I understood it instantly. It was probably a hoax. The guy who made it was holding his hand still without moving it. You have to move the ‘stator’ battery, the magnet, in your hand, back and forth to move it out of the way, because it interferes with the incoming magnets on the fan blades. It might be possible to put it into an exactly right position, but I’m not sure and I won’t know until I try. The people who claimed it was a fraud said that it was possible to put a little tiny battery thing that was triggered when he activated it with the magnet in his hand, and that tiny battery operated the motor in a conventional way.

Well, you know what, I don’t even care if it was a hoax and if that’s what was done, because I could see, with my eyes, what he was getting at. I could see the concept. I could see how simple the concept was. If it was just a fake mockup to demonstrate that this is the basic idea, even if the mockup was really operated with a conventional little motor instead of the magnets themselves, it didn’t matter, I could still see the concept.

I can’t as easily see the concept in any other magnet motor designs, because they have already evolved. I can’t follow all the steps of their evolution, unless I watch and learn, ‘Oh, you can’t do that. So you have to figure out a way around that. So you have to put this weird thing right here which keeps doing this because it’s having a problem getting past that place.’ You won’t understand why they’re designed that way until you try, and fail, yourself to make one based on this simple concept that magnets push other magnets – or, batteries. ‘They’ keep reminding me, remember that magnets are batteries. They are a source of stored energy, just like a battery. When you run a motor on magnets, you are actually running a motor with batteries. The neodymium batteries don’t run out for an extremely long time.

I need to eat breakfast or something, and get ready for stuff I have to do later today.

Okay, healing stones are *very* comforting

May 17, 2016

I bought little chains of stones without any knowledge of which particular ones to buy. I just want to avoid artificially dyed stones and stones with any added chemicals, like epoxy, although it might not be possible to use brittle crumbling stones like turquoise without some kind of glue holding them together. But I’ll save that problem for later.

I went to the ‘Crystal Cave,’ a store in downtown State College. Every time I go to any arts and crafts store, or to a place like The Crystal Cave, I want to buy every single thing that I see there (unless it is something junky or artificial). I haven’t bought any stones over the past few years because of decontamination.

But yesterday I bought five little chains of stones. When you buy them there, it’s just a little string of a few beads on a piece of fishing line. That’s the same as the hematite beads I bought at Michael’s.

Like I said, I didn’t choose them for any particular properties. I don’t remember which stone allegedly does what, although if you look it up, there are thousands of pages of information claiming that particular stones do particular things. It’s very specific.

So this is kind of like I went to the herbal medicine store and grabbed a bunch of random herb bottles off the shelf, and then said, ‘Wow! Herbs make me feel good!’ Because that is basically what happened.

I am testing the beads placed against my skin. I just watched an advertisement yesterday that gave me a general idea of how people use stones for healing, but again, I am not following any rigid rules, I am just doing whatever I feel like. A stone specialist would probably be appalled at my chaotic use of random beads. I must be disrupting all the energies of the universe.

But there is something real that actually happens. The beads held in my hands, or placed against my skin – I kept them on the strings instead of taking them off, so they are not falling all over the place – they stay in line where I put them – when they are against my skin, it gives me a very pleasant tickling sensation on my skin. This is not like an electrical shock. Whatever it is, it is very mild. Kind of like earthing, where you lie directly on the ground and let your energy go into the earth.

I did earthing a few weeks ago. It was warm enough outside to do it. It’s been extremely cold, and rainy, and it even snowed here in State College a couple days ago, although I didn’t see it myself, I only heard about it and saw photos. But before that happened, it was warm, and I laid outside on the green moss. This yard is full of moss.

I laid on the moss and I looked for my direction. I saw that I could study to be a bookkeeper and I could go that direction. When I was earthing, it seemed possible and it seemed like a good idea. I have too much time pressure to do it now though, and so I haven’t followed that plan. But when I was earthing, even though I have still zaps, I still hear voices in my head, I still have electromagnetic background noises, I still get attacked, even so, lying directly against the green moss on the earth comforted me and it let me think a little more clearly than I normally could. I actually gathered something from it, a sense of direction, a sense of what was possible, and it felt like it was possible.

Touching these beads is not exactly like that, but similar. I don’t think beads could be a substitute for earthing.

I can only say that when I have the beads on my skin, in whichever various locations I put them, just based on random bits of information I’ve gathered over the years, with no strict rules, I am feeling that they are very comforting. They are surprisingly comforting, and it is more than just a placebo. It is doing something very clearly and definitely. I can’t say that I know exactly what it is doing, but it is absolutely and definitely doing *something*. Even if I have to describe it as ‘giving myself a massage,’ it is actually still different from merely massaging myself with my own hands, which I sometimes do if I am sick or if I need to think about something that causes anxiety, or if I am doing any kind of EFT tapping. It is different from those sensations.

It helps to have a string of beads that you can roll over the skin as a group. I pictured myself wearing an entire chain mail made of beads. I should google that – somebody has probably already made one on Etsy or somewhere.

These are just ordinary semiprecious stones. I don’t have anything that really qualifies as a special kind of crystal, but I guess most of the minerals and stones are some kind of crystal, it’s just that some crystals have unusual properties.

I have always been fascinated with minerals, but never learned much about them.

I am serious, whatever these are doing, it is *very* noticeable, and I am going to keep doing it. I don’t know how long lasting the effects are. It isn’t as strong as a drug or an herb. I don’t have a constant, long-lasting sensation of being poisoned. It is very mild. I do actually still have some residual sensations from having touched the stones, but it isn’t an excessive or unpleasant feeling.

I did have a problem the other day from touching and handling copper wire. I bought some copper wire at Michael’s which can be used for beading, but I have already known for years that touching copper causes insanity and sickness of the stomach. This also happens if you drink copper in your tap water. I was touching these copper wires for a long period of time the other night, winding them, because I was halfheartedly fooling around with some idea of making a copper spiral and putting some magnets through it to see if I could generate electricity, but the wires are extremely thin and not really good for that, so I ended up just winding them up and trying to untangle the mess that I made with them, which took a long time.

I was really, really sick all day long yesterday after having done that, and I recognized the sensation of copper sickness. It is very unpleasant.

This is sad, because I love, love, love the beauty of copper. If it were safe to handle copper, then I would be wearing everything made of copper. It is so amazingly beautiful for jewelry. It would be okay to have objects made of copper as long as I wasn’t touching them all the time, so they would have to be pretty knickknacks around the house rather than jewelry.

I took the Siberian root yesterday, and I also got some coffee after not having had coffee for several days, just Vivarin. Vivarin isn’t the same as coffee, and so I felt different after drinking the coffee.

Still, the things that I felt from touching the healing stones were very different and very noticeable. They are not super-powerful and not super long lasting. I don’t know how long the effect will last. I only know they are very comforting while they are still against my skin, but I also got kind of tired of it after a while and had to stop, so I don’t want them touching me forever. I got hungry and wanted to go downstairs to eat breakfast.

I just don’t know how to emphasize it enough, the semiprecious stones give me some kind of a sensation that is very noticeable, and it doesn’t matter which ones – I chose random ones and they all seem to do it.

I loved crystals and stones as a child.

May 16, 2016

But back then, I thought that they were ‘just pretend.’ I thought they weren’t really magic. I believed they should somehow be magical, but I didn’t know how to use them.

It turns out that many gemstones really are magical. Tourmaline produces ions and, supposedly, infrared. Some stones produce electricity when rubbed, like amber.

Shungite is used for shielding rooms against electromagnetic interference.

I’ve been holding stones in my hands, and I can *feel* them doing something. What they are doing, I don’t know. I can only describe it as ‘a tickly sensation.’