There definitely was an attack

I don’t really have as much ‘EWCM’ as I thought I did. Okay…. ‘EWCM’ stands for ‘egg white cervical mucus’ and it’s what they talk about in forums where women discuss trying to conceive. I had a strange sensation during that time when I was being attacked, and it was like I was smelling something – there was a sensation like I was breathing smoke. Then, the whole thing suddenly died down and we were all back to normal, and it seemed to have affected all of us. I don’t think it was an actual smoke, I think it was an electronic weapon attack.

Then later on in the night I was forced awake just before my housemate came home. He has a new girlfriend that he has been with for several months. Not only did they have sex, but also, his dad also came home at around the same time with his girlfriend too, and they were in the car in the driveway. I could hear them talking because my windows were open. During all these hours in the middle of the night when all this was going on, I was forced awake and prevented from sleeping. There was no reason why I could not go back to sleep. I was very tired and desperately wanted to sleep.

I lived with a guy in the past and we had sex enough that I can say I’ve done just about everything within reasonable limits. So this isn’t a situation where I am shocked and horrified because of what a timid naive prude I am. It’s not like that. I mostly just ignored what they were doing; however, being forced awake and kept awake by an electronic attack was the problem, not the sex itself. I also believe they were being attacked in the same way to have forced sexual arousal at that exact same time because it had been done to me earlier. The voices had said, ‘We’re trying to help,’ with regard to ‘helping’ me by making me and Agustin get together.

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On a completely different topic, I’m having trouble eating the food that they have been nice enough to bring me. It’s normal for me to bring home leftovers from a big box of food like that, but then, I can’t even eat the leftovers either. There is a quality problem with the food from that particular restaurant. Something is spoiled and when I struggle to eat it it makes me sick enough that I can’t finish the food. This is me being a person who ‘looks a gift horse in the mouth,’ analyzing and complaining about a gift someone gives me instead of just appreciating it. They have been going to a particular Chinese restaurant and getting food for everyone and sharing some of it with me, which is really nice of them, and I normally like Chinese food, but not this particular food.

The fun part is that I have been using this opportunity to try to write the word ‘leftovers’ in Spanish on the box that the food is in, and then put it in the fridge to take home later. One day I wrote ‘Los Restos,’ and Arturo chuckled when he saw it and he said something something something ‘pero no se como se llama’ – she’s trying to write this but she doesn’t know what it’s called. So I showed him my dictionary on the phone and got him to help me choose a better word, so now I’m calling them ‘Las Sobras’ instead of ‘Los Restos.’ I have a feeling that ‘los restos’ means something more like ‘the remains,’ a slightly weird way to say it, like ‘this was the remains of last night’s dinner.’ ‘Las sobras’ I think means ‘the supers,’ and ‘super’ is a similar word in English, meaning ‘above and beyond’ or ‘extra,’ and it’s been strangely distorted in the Spanish language to mean ‘extra food that is leftover.’ I don’t know for certain if ‘sobra’ and ‘super’ come from the same word, but I think they might possibly. That’s how I’m remembering it, as ‘the supers,’ even if it turns out that ‘sobras’ doesn’t have any connection to ‘super’ at all. ‘Super’ I just realized looks like the word ‘supper,’ which wasn’t what I was thinking, and ‘supper’ is a meal. Maybe that’s what it came from.

I am trying to get some people to take a couple of my shifts. But I am so exhausted I cannot even write the emails or make the
arrangements necessary to bring them to the store to show them what to do. I have to answer a couple emails and make arrangements.

I also cannot do the laundry, and yesterday I wore pants that blatantly had a huge smear of white sludge down the side from the day before. I forgot about it until I was on the bus and looked down and I was like, ‘Oh yeah, oh well, I can’t do anything about it now.’ My clothes also smell again. I have to go dig through the bag of packed clothes which is on the porch, but I’m too tired to do that. I was embarrassed about the smell of my clothes yesterday when Agustin came in (he did come in – he wasn’t late, he was just a couple minutes later than usual, but still early, and I was just looking forward to seeing him).

They seriously cut their fucking hair like once every fucking week. I am fascinated with hair, and I read that Asian hair grows faster than Caucasian hair. Well, they are Native Americans possibly mixed with some Hispanic, and they have this extremely thick, straight, glossy, black hair that is just like Asian hair, and it grows so fast that I can see their hair growing over the course of a week or two, and then they get it cut again. Native Americans were known for having hair that grew all the way to the ground. I wish that my Anaya religion were up and running so that I could watch all of the beautiful people growing their hair long the way that I want them to. This is one of those manic dreams, ‘start an intentional community and a new religion,’ which tends to go away when I quit caffeine and quit all herbal drugs.

There is some kind of unknown creature in this area near this house. I have never heard it before. I have camped in the woods in various places and never heard this sound. In the night, it is a screech. It comes from up in the trees. It could be a bird, a rodent, or an insect, or a bat… I have no idea. The screeches are intermittent and happen maybe once every minute. I hear them when I walk through the little housing development after I get off the bus. I walk up that little hill, ‘Hemlock Hill’ or something like that, I forget the name. It is only in this little zone. I also hear a strange bird out there right now, making a similar kind of noise. But it’s not exactly the same thing, it’s just also a new and unfamiliar bird making a weird call, going, ‘fweep, FWEEEP!’

I also heard the sound last night that I used to call ‘the unicorns’ when I was a kid. It sounds like a horse whinnying, but it is actually some kind of night bird. It goes ‘hehehehheheheehehehheheee! heehehehheheheeheheheheheheeee!’ in a downward moving pitch. They are always far away and faint, never close by. They seem to avoid people and avoid noise.

***********
The concept that scarcity is an illusion is based on the my knowledge of the huge productivity of food that is possible when you use organic permaculture planting methods. Then you have to use labor intensive methods of picking the food. All of that is the exact opposite of modern farming, which aims to use the least possible amount of labor. Organic permaculture is designed in such a way that actual humans have to go through the fields picking the food, otherwise it would all be destroyed by something like a big tractor going through. Jobs! Jobs! An abundance of infinite jobs! Permaculture is LABOR INTENSIVE! Permaculture is primitive and low tech. It uses every inch of ground instead of wasting it all.

I am also basing this concept of abundant productivity and ‘scarcity is an illusion’ on the idea that there are people out there literally conspiring, for real, to prevent people from planting fruit trees in urban areas. We have artificial scarcity because of this. This is absolutely no joke. I read it in the article my brother gave me on facebook.

I have complained for years that instead of planting useless decorative trees around urban areas, like all the apartments in State College, we should plant some kind of fruit trees, a variety of fruits, any kind of fruits at all, it doesn’t matter what. And I always asked, why not? Then I gradually began to form this idea in my head that the entire social structure was designed deliberately in such a way as to deliberately prevent people from getting their own food, and being forced to buy it in a grocery store. But this idea was only a thought in my mind, and I wasn’t certain of it. It was ‘only a theory.’

Then I read this article my brother gave me, about people doing ‘guerrilla grafting,’ similar to ‘guerrilla gardening.’ They graft fruit bearing branches onto other trees in urban areas. In this article they mentioned that it was actually *illegal* to plant fruit trees and illegal to graft fruit bearing branches onto other trees in urban areas, and lo and behold, there was an organized group of people with an official name, something like ‘Urban Green Zones’ or something like that, whose job was to control exactly which types of plants we planted in urban areas. I want somebody to investigate those groups, because they would inevitably find people connected to the modern farmers, protecting them from any threat to their profits, which is the REAL purpose of that group. I am now convinced that the ‘fruit tree conspiracy’ is actually real now. Once again, we have an illusion of scarcity where scarcity should not exist.

‘They’ tried to convince me that my coworkers were reading my blog, but I don’t think they actually are. All of the things that happened could have been fake coincidences, where it seemed like somebody mentioned this or that, or said this or that.

My blog is a desire to tell people all of the things in my mind that nobody will listen to. I have nobody on earth who listens to me right now. ‘They’ did try to find somebody who they tell me is my socionic dual, but I am doubtful that he is – I think he is probably another mirage type. The mirage relation and the semi-dual relation and all the other socionic relations all have some restrictions on their ability to communicate and connect with each other – they can connect up to a point, but cannot completely communicate openly and freely with each other without limit.

I actually knew this person years ago from McDonald’s, but something made me decide that he was not my dual. I don’t remember why. I did have a lot of conversations with him in the past and have known him for years from McD. It is going to take some convincing to make me believe that he is my dual. I keep becoming skeptical of it after being away from him for a day or two, although I am partially able to believe it while talking to him.

Duals are able to have an influence on each other. They are able to accept and understand each other’s information. If they talk to each other, they are able to listen to each other and hear each other, without skipping information or missing things or overlooking things or ignoring things. I do not know of a single person on earth who is able to hear me. My brother John was the only person I had a deep conversation with, when he came to visit. My old boyfriend Eric is still connected with me and reads my blog and understands what I’m talking about. But there was a type of connection I used to have with Rachael, and with a few others, when I was younger, that I do not have now with anyone.

I was able to partly emulate this connection talking to the McD guy recently, but not enough to completely convince me that he is my dual. I need to see more signs that he is really processing my information and not merely ‘being nice’ or ‘trying to impress me’ out of pressure to be my friend and pretend to be smart because of the pressure to be somebody he’s not. I don’t want to be talking to an SEE-ESFP and forcing that person to try to use their uncomfortable, weak role function, Ne, extraverted intuition, because they feel pressured to be somebody that I want them to be. That is not a comfortable
relationship. I don’t want to be constantly forcing people to try to be somebody else or do something that is unnatural for their thinking style.

Oh my god, it’s only Wednesday. I am so tired that I can’t do anything I need to do, like make phone calls. Right at this time, I have to salvage my tracfone! It’s an emergency. I want to keep my old phone number. They’re changing the tracfone networks. I don’t want anything to go wrong and I have to talk to a customer
representative to make it happen, because I can’t use the automatic phone answering machines to do it – it’s complicated. I want to take my old phone number from the phone I like and put it on my new phone, which is activated. There is no way to do that from among the existing options they offer you.

I have to make phone calls and use all three of my phones including the one that I hate. It will take many minutes to do this and I will have to talk to insane lunatics possibly, or I might have to talk to automatic answering services first.

I also have to email the people who are trying to take a couple hours of my shifts so that I will not be so horribly exhausted. Freddy said ‘no one would want that’ when I said I wanted to just get rid of a *couple* of my evening shifts, but it turns out, everybody wants that. I have gotten several replies from people who are serious about wanting to take over only a couple hours of a minimum wage dishwashing job. It is exactly what they want.

Everybody needs a flexible schedule. Grr, if I had time I would write about this! I have to start getting ready now. I’ve been writing about slavery and jokingly called it ‘nakrivich’ to indicate it was a large, global phenomenon that went beyond the definition of slavery, and it includes things like the Fruit Tree Conspiracy, which isn’t exactly the narrow definition of slavery, but is included in the general definition. You are enslaved by being forced to live far away from the food production areas, so you are forced to pay money for food.

Anyway, there are different degrees of comfort and freedom the slaves can have, so that they don’t recognize that they are slaves and they think everything is all right and don’t spend a lot of time
complaining about the evils of society. Some people have more free time. Some people have control over their work schedule, while others don’t. Some people are earning enough money that they never have to worry about the ordinary random disasters, such as a car breakdown, that terrify people who are making less money. Some people can take vacations. Some people can take much longer vacations and go farther away. Some people can take long periods of time off work, such as months or years, and have enough money to make it through that time, and go travel somewhere to a foreign country.

There are different degrees of control, and everyone is in this gray area, where you range from feeling totally helpless and would recognize the word ‘slave,’ to a degree where you consider yourself a ‘normal person living a normal life,’ oblivious to the fact that you are still a slave because of the money system and the design of society.

Right now I am at the low end of feeling helpless and enslaved, because this job has a totally inflexible schedule. I work six days a week. I have to go there at 10am and get out after 9:00 to 10:00 pm, so it’s a twelve hour day, although I have a two hour break, during which I can take a siesta if I am lucky and don’t have any urgent errands to run, if only I am able to fall asleep after all the caffeine I use.

There is this area that I am in, where you are trapped. Your schedule is inflexible, and yet, if you want to change and improve your life and take control of the problems, you have to do all of those projects, all of those errands, all of that thinking and planning, in the couple minutes of free time you have, which is impossible, So you are unable to change your life because your life is so completely out of control, and all you can do is drag yourself to work every day wearing the dirtiest laundry that smells bad and has huge smears of sludge on it from some mess at work the day before, and you can’t wash your hair every day and don’t know whether you’re going to get in trouble at work for failing to wash your hair and letting the customers see that it is greasy and tangled because you didn’t have time to comb it either and didn’t have time to re-braid it. And I can’t even make the calls to Tracfone to fix my phone, or send the emails to the people who were interested in taking over a couple shifts.

And I have a desire to talk to all of them, talk to the slaves, tell them what I know, discuss the slavery with them. I am not here to end the discussion with a ten-step plan of how to manage your finances. I am here to go deeper than that. I am here to have such a discussion that at the end of the discussion I can see that the people talking with me have absorbed and understood the reality of the fact that we are slaves. We are slaves. For real slaves. Slaves like the kind we read about in the history books. We’re that kind of slave. It’s that bad. If you read about bad working conditions in our history books, we’re getting to those working conditions again. In some countries those working conditions are exactly that extreme. It’s going on right now in the real world in the present, with us, here and now. I want a discussion where I can see that people are actually grasping that concept, where they question their assumptions and beliefs and I can see what those assumptions are, and I can see how those
assumptions are being questioned and changed during the course of the discussions. I want to have a thesis statement and proof. I want to change their beliefs and see them changing. I want to see their emotional reactions change from blind acceptance, blind neutrality, blind resignation, to the anger of awareness and knowledge and understanding that this is slavery and slavery is wrong. I want them to have the courage to say, ‘I’m a slave, and I shouldn’t be a slave. Slavery is wrong and slavery is unnecessary.’

I have to get ready to go.

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