Fiction/rap lyrics
This is just a test of the emergency broadcast system.
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Sade Olutola
No title available

@theartofmadeline
Jules of Nature
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

JBB: An Artblog!
art blog(derogatory)
ojovivo
d e v o n

tannertan36

No title available
Cosimo Galluzzi

Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second
hello vonnie
noise dept.
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle
NASA

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Switzerland

seen from Malaysia

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from China
seen from Israel
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye
seen from Sweden

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
@confessionsofasecretagent
Fiction/rap lyrics
This is just a test of the emergency broadcast system.
Fiction/rap lyrics
So, I guess black ops did put something in my gin. A "spider" is on the way? What is a "spider"? The Woodner is CIA property, black ops property, etc.I guess they have keys to my apartment---again. I am no one's property.
I will never commit suicide--sorry USA.
I got the feeling before that black ops wanted to hook up something to the electrical outlets in my apartment and then do something with my cell phone? I could sense the African American woman who put a ticking time bomb in my heart saying, "she doesn't know what torture is!"
Rap lyrics/fiction
Now that I've saved the day for all NATO countries, it's off to my next project! Actually, my body will be autoposied.
I'm done.
I'm trying to figure out how to die on Russian soil.
You win.
Go to bed.
If you're stilll after my so desirable future lover, here's a photo of me with him now.
Truth
For those confused about my most recent bout of scary things, I calendared some items and looked back through my journals, which I kept. Here is a chronology. No cause/effect suggested. I contacted Wikileaks and Edward Snowden (I hope) in early July. Don’t worry—I’m not a spy, I'm not a "traitor", I have no information to leak, etc. Around this time, I felt like I might be under some surveillance again (like we all are and I’m sure the NSA reads my e-mails; if you have any doubt about this, please read Luke Harding’s book) and my PTSD got worse the third week in July. This was also after I posted some sections of my new novel (about the security clearance, the threat on my life, the subsequent threats on my life by hospital staff, etc.). You may wonder why I write such novels and try to contact Wikileaks---well, that's for closure and preventing what happened to me from happening to others. The unneeded security clearance I went through had many problems, I was targeted because I had "foreign friends" and a former "foreign boyfriend" (the Dept. of State investigator told me so), and then a man re-entered my life. This man has access to the White House, is a security expert, is a master locksmith, and told me that he does covert work in a certain part of the world where the parent company of his company is headquartered. He then threatened to kill me. I never got any replies to the numerous letters I wrote seeking answers and changes to the security clearance process, etc. I saw a doctor in late July because my PTSD got worse and she prescribed an additional medication on July 29. When I saw that doctor, I also saw staff from previous hospitalizations. Some of those staff members abused me. In the past, one of them had told me that I had to take a pill and then I would have a stroke and die. This traumatized me. I wrote down their names and wrote down what they had done in the past. I took the new medication the doctor prescribed and stopped taking my regular medication (confusion re: the instructions—I should have taken both medications, I guess, but the doctor was unclear. I called the doctor but she never returned my call. I tried calling my old doctor but she is with a new insurance company and her secretary refused to put me in touch with her). On August 11, I went to Kinko’s to use the computer because my Internet, laptop, and printer were working only intermittently. I sent a letter to President Putin and an e-mail to some Russian attorneys whom I asked to help me because I felt that some events ever since my botched security clearance and the threat on my life, some things might be politically motivated. Don’t worry—anyone can write a letter to President Putin. I frequently write letters to politicians, leaders, and others. It’s no big deal and I encourage others to write letters. My car was then seemingly stolen on August. 11 (really, the DC police just towed it and didn’t know it). My medication was in the car. Why? Because when I lived in DC before and talked to attorneys, my apartment was then broken into. So, I learned to pack a small bag and always have it with me. Anyhow, I was without any medications from August 11-August 26. During that time, I kept trying to get medication, but the local CVS said that they could not transfer the prescription from another CVS in DC (which is rubbish). I offered to pay out of pocket. During this time, my backpack was stolen and I had no money. During this time, my apartment building would not let me use a phone—my cell phone was stolen in my backpack. During this time, local businesses and people I asked on the street would not let me use a phone. During this time, the police I approached on their beats said they could not help me. During this time, I had intermittent Internet access, my laptop and printer seldom worked, and I had to copy, cut, paste and e-mail in a hurry---sorry about the e-mails! Around this time, a security guard on the metro called the DC police on me because I asked where a metro stop was. Two officers responded. One said nothing and seemed reluctant to be there. The other was heavy handed. He admitted or lied that he knew nothing about the First Amendment. He took my license. He told me I could not leave—yet he said that I was not under arrest but was instead just “detained.” He asked me questions. I told him that this was the equivalent of custodial interrogation and that, under the law, he had me in custody. After some time, the police let me go. Around this time, someone who works in my apartment building also said he would call the police on me because I requested a $50 refund for a key card that did not work. Around this time, the apartment complex sent me a letter saying I might be evicted because I copied them on an e-mail asking friends for money. Around this time, someone else e-mailed and said they had reported me to police because, by asking friends for money, I was guilty of extortion. E-mail was the only form of communication I had and even that was spotty and risky. Never mind the man at the DC DMV who knew my name and asked me my opinions about Muslims when I went to get my DC license (this was when I first moved back to DC). On August 26, the police picked me up on false charges (they said I was trying to enter an apartment building--which is absolute rubbish—I was walking on a public sidewalk, whistling and singing songs about political asylum and how awful US foreign policy is). From August 26-September 10, I was in a hospital that was very rough and not at all therapeutic. One patient had a razor and threatened to cut my face. I found him sleeping in my bed and he entered my room when I was sleeping. A woman was sexually assaulted by a staff member. Two of the patients were former prisoners. Many of the patients had substance abuses issues and were de-toxing while in there for mental health issues, as well. It was very loud and nasty. Etc. Now I’m on a very strong med, different from any others I have taken or been prescribed in the past year. This medication has nasty side effects and makes me feel like a zombie. Believe it or not, you are never doing anyone a favor by putting them on a psych ward or keeping them there. Far better to help people get meds and see doctors on the outside. A psych ward is worse than prison and those on psych wards have fewer rights than those in prison—even the patients who had been in prison agreed with me on these points. And calling the police is never helpful to someone who has problems, at least in DC--the police are punitive, not helpful. I think it's best to try to communicate with the person directly. Anyhow, just an FYI that my technology difficulties continue. My new printer doesn’t work anymore. My radio/tape player/CD player no longer works. Thank goodness my laptop is working. I don’t have Internet at home—I have to use public networks (I take my laptop to public places). Things are getting better in many ways, thanks to help from friends. I hope this answers any lingering questions. Thanks. The short version: Yes, something really bad happened, in my opinion. Others think it's no big deal. It has haunted me for 5 years and ruined my life in some ways.Basically, I externed for the US Dept of State Office of the Legal Advisor then they conducted a security clearance after I left that was nebulous, unneeded, etc. A strange man with a high-level security clearance, access to the White House, etc. re-entered my life and I think he was a profiler. He threatened to kill me and I had to run for my life. This incident ruined my career and my life in many ways. Whenever I try to get answers or speak about it, I suffer and end up back on medications or in the hospital. My technology stops working, I suffer financially, I lose my job, etc. It's a pattern I need to break through somehow.
Fiction
Psychiatrist/spychiatrist: I’m a God. Brain mapping will help prove that God doesn’t exist. We know where “God thoughts” come from, so we’ll map the God part of the brain and prove that psychiatrists reign supreme! Lawyer: You’re under arrest. And you’re being sued for malpractice. Psychiatrist: You’re insane. So is your client. Case dismissed. Ha ha ha. I win again! God: You’re dead. Nietzsche: God is dead. What a pity. Psychiatrist: Nietzsche is insane. Kant: Nietzsche sucks. Which is why people should read other philosophers and.... God: Nietzsche and Kant are dead. You do realize that Stephanie is writing this and that dead people can’t speak? I’m speaking through Stephanie. From time to time, I fill her with the Holy Spirit. And how mistreated she is! Nelson Mandel or Martin Luther King said the same things and they were celebrated. So many others are criminalized and brutalized. Why, people? I speak and work through people---other people. People whom you refuse to respect. Maybe even you. But look at how you treat others and yourselves! Jesus can take the shape and form of anyone, including a beggar on the street. Are you shunning Jesus Christ or the Holy Spirit as you walk by so many people without helping? What if I need to work through you? Are you treating yourself well enough for that? Stephanie: God, I’m really sorry. I think I need to read the Bible and think and pray a bit. Therapy Session God: Stephanie, what is a spychiatrist? Stephanie: A psychiatrist, especially in the DC region, or even a therapist, who specializes in helping people with security clearances. Especially undercover people. These spy like people talk in code at therapy. They are “Good” meaning they work for the government. They talk about spouses. You’ve heard of married to the mob? We’ll, it’ also married to the CIA or whatever. God: How do you know this? Stephanie: I’ve been tortured by it. I found out a guy was a spy. He told me he was. And he tried to kill me, I guess. In any event, I was sent to special therapy sessions. And certain hospitals and certain doctors. In some of those place, people tried to figure our what I knew. When they did so, I learned how they work. I didn’t want to know, but I was protecting my life. God: Come on. Protecting your life? Stephanie: Yep. You know, in that one hospital, I think they gave me a truth-telling drug and electroshocked me or something. I really do, God. And the psychiatrist said I was going to be offered a job. And he mentioned my stories, but I had just met him. And in that other hospital, a nurse said I had to take a pill then die. God: Yep. So now what? Stephanie: I don’t know, God. I need to get over this. I need to have a decent job and not live in poverty and not have to beg for my life once a year and go into another hospital. People are happy when I’m afraid. They come at me with needles and the police until I’m afraid again. They impoverish me until I’m afraid again. They medicate me until I’m afraid for my health again. But I hate being afraid. I’d rather be angry. But they hate me when I’m angry. Maybe because I’m strong when I’m angry. God, I think I need to talk to Holocaust victims, torture victims, and people who have been wrongly convicted or stalking victims. How do these people go on with their lives? Truth and reconciliation and trials seem so important. But sometimes none of that happens. Sometimes people aren’t compensated. Sometimes grave injustices continue. How are we supposed to live under those condition? How am I supposed to tolerate this being done to me an others? I think of those I met. I think about those undergoing a security clearance now who are in some ambulance, their lives ruined while one unstable people are enjoying cocktails, marriages, children, nice jobs. God, I really need your help. God: What do you want? Stephanie: I want to go to Russia and talk to Edward Snowden. I want to work on some treaty issues and get closure on these issue in some productive way. I want to marry a foreign man. I want to do meaningful work. I want to be wealthy so that I can choose where I live and so that I can help others and advance causes that will help people. I want to be in a community of people of some sort, with similar values, who know how to love one another. I want to be healthy. I want to laugh again. I want to love again. I want to speak my mind again. I want to say provocative things again and not have to fear for my life or health because of it. God: Why do your teeth chatter sometimes? Stephanie: I don’t know. Maybe I have those filling like Lucille Ball did and I do Morse code with my teeth and the messages go somewhere. Or maybe my body reacts to being around government agents. I can be around such people. But when I am alone or around a nice person or when I pray, my body reacts God: How does it react? Stephanie: My teeth chatter and I think of certain people. My nostrils flare and I think of certain people. My nostrils actually vibrate. Sometimes I get cold and feel like I have to throw up and I think of certain people. Other times, my left hand moves and my left foot moves and I think of certain US government agents. They tend to possess the left side of my body. God: It is a blessing, not a curse. IT is a gift. It is the Holy Spirit. Stephanie: Thank you. It has protected me. But no one understands. I take the perspective of certain awful people and I can sense what they would do. I go to places and know that they have been there and I sense what they have done or what they will do in the near future. Then I stop. Then I warn people and I pray. It is very difficult sometimes being surrounded by thee people. Being around them kills me, physically, emotionally, and mentally. God: I know. Stephanie: I clinch my teeth sometimes so that my teeth won’t chatter. I don’t want More code going to the US or my fillings to be used to entrap foreign agents like Lucille Ball’s fillings were. God: I know. Stephanie: God, I think Russia saved my life. Maybe Germany did, too. I wish I had money to send proper gifts. Maybe I’ll just have to send some artwork or something. It sounds strange, but I was having heart problems until I went to the Russian Embassy before I went to Germany. I felt a sensation in my arm in the Embassy and my heart started feeling better. And I think I would have died if Germany wouldn’t have let me pursue asylum. Why don’t people understand how much it makes sense that I would want to be in those countries, given what they have risked, politically and financially, to keep me alive, while the US only harms me? Anyway, God, I like talking to you much better than talking to a therapist or psychiatrist. Many of them have gone through no really difficult times. Many of them are not as sensitive as I am. Many of them don’t know anything about Snowden, security clearances, or anything else. They refuse to read about such topics. They call people crazy when they state known facts. Yet, I don’t want to talk to a religious therapist. I don’t want a therapist telling me what you are, God. I can’t stand that. One therapist already told me that my spiritual beliefs were all wrong because she had different spiritual beliefs. And she was so greedy and selfish I couldn’t stand her, but she basically blackmailed me to get money from me. I hate psychiatry, God. If more Americans had meaningful access to justice, decent healthcare, and decent social safety nets, we wouldn’t need psychiatrists. And I really can’t stand psychiatrists. They never let me talk about the security clearance or my distaste for the US government after the security clearance. They call me psychotic if I say anything negative about the government and then they change my diagnosis when I say negative or angry things. I can’t recover if I can’t speak. And many people don’t want me to speak the truth. They want me to lie or they want me to use the spy metaphors. But I never was a spy or government anything. I’m not married to the US government, so it’s not “domestic violence” with a “good spouse” who “doesn’t understand mental illness: and who wants “pieces of puzzles” to fit and so forth. Any my passport has been stolen, which really stinks. God: Share the prayer your wrote. Stephanie: OK. So, sometimes when I would go into hospitals, usually because of stuff happening at work and in my personal life all at the same time and all related to the security clearance, lots of people would come to the hospital. Some of thee people didn’t seem like regular people. Some of them were on their way to foreign countries and so forth. I’ve written about the in novel, which oddly enough, might have started the last round of abuses. In any case, it sometimes felt like some patients were actually decision maker. A certain CIA person might be handling some “votes” regarding whether I die or just take “good”, which is code for medicine. Well, that I better explained via the novel which I might never write because every time I try to write or talk about this stuff, I end up back in the hospital. Anyhow, here I the prayer: Dear Lord, Lord who is above all countries and all religions, help me to be the person you want me to be. Dear God, I am nothing in the grand scheme of all that I holy and part of your plans. Please lead, guide, direct and forgive me. Please help me to protect myself in a way that is in accordance with God’s laws. Please weaken those who harm me just temporarily enough for me to survive and be a blessing for them. Then, Lord, please strengthen u according to your will. Please forgive those who harm me and redeem them through your love. Amen. I think the US government would hate me for this and for some visuals I posted to Facebook. That’ because I put God and international law above the US or any country. Those in the US government see the US or the agency they work for or Obama as God. They have a governmental holy trinity that is blasphemy to me. Maybe the NSA is God? Or is it the CIA hetman person? And Obama is the son? Who knows. All I know is that my belief system is very different and will never be compatible with that of the US government.
For Sale
1) Cameras. (A) Canon EOS Digital Rebel. DS6041. Body, battery, compact flash card of 1 GB, Canon zoom lens 55-200mm, compact flash reader and USB cord, battery charger, Canon 18-55 mm lens, Canon 35-80 mm lens, DC for camera, infrared filter, circular polarizing filter. Targus carrying case. This works well with this camera because the lenses are interchangeable: (B) Canon Rebel 2000 manual camera (film, not digital camera—in case you like the darkroom). Includes two flashes and 6 rolls of black and white film (film is at least 8 years old, though). 2) Leather sleeper sofa—modern design, like new. Couch dimensions: 75 inches by 35 inches. Bought about 4 months ago and seldom used as a couch. Never used as a bed. Would keep it, but I lost my job. Paid about $600. Best offer. Bought from Jennifer Convertibles. Model is Monroe C25 sleeper sofa (sleeper sofas cost more than non-sleeper sofas). 3) Ikea floor lamps and desk lamp 4) art (Chagall print framed; New York City print unframed) 5) National Mint bicentennial plate. 1975 official bicentennial commemorative plate, limited edition, Franklin Mint. Solid sterling silver inlaid and electroplated with 24kt cold. Says “the voice of my people at home is for independence,” a quote by Caesar Rodney and shows a man on a horse shaking another man’s hand. Caesar’s vote was instrumental re: the resolution regarding the Declaration of Independence. My father bought this on an installment plan in 1975 and paid $182 for it then. 6) hot rollers (never used) 7) camping supplies: Wedge 2 tent, PUR drinking water systems filter, orange waterproof sack you can put stuff in (I used it for photo equipment(, collapsible water bucket, two rain ponchos, waterproof matches, bear spray, candle lantern, compass, citronella candle, survival candle, MSR basic pot (without pincher handle), plastic coffee press (2 cup) 8) Autographed copy of Bill Clinton’s book Back to Work 9) Music stand and clarinet 10) Clothes, including suits and suede jacket and more, sizes 10-16 11) Folding chairs. Two. Black. With cushioned seats. 12) Oster blender.
Truth
First, I’d like to apologize to all of you for my e-mails as of late. I know that the e-mails confused, angered, annoyed, or worried most of you. I sincerely apologize. That was not my intent. Second, I’d like to explain a bit. As many of you know, I underwent an unneeded security clearance that ended with a man (who I suspect is an agent of the US government and he admittedly has access to the White House and high-security places) threatening to kill me. That was almost six years ago. However, I have never fully recovered. From time to time, I tend to relapse. The triggers and events are very similar in each episode. As my doctor explained, the longer these episodes continue and the more severe they are (due to isolation, poverty, stressors, etc.), the more my brain goes into "fight or flight" mode. That was the mode my brain went into when my life was threatened. I hope none of you ever experience this. It’s a very scary state of mind. Some find it exhilarating, I guess, but I don’t. When fearing for your life for so long, a person’s senses are more acute, a person has to make snap judgments about people and all kinds of things, and move and act quickly. The longer this continues, the more mistakes a person makes. Soon the person has made too many snap judgments and gets stuck. I understand this as a type of post-traumatic stress. Fortunately, my doctor is trying some different medications to help me avoid feeling this "fight or flight" feeling anymore. Personally, I think all of this could have been avoided if the police had done their jobs and questioned this man and if I had an attorney to sue this man for civil damages when the threats happened. It didn't help that my life was threatened after that and that some psychiatrists made it clear that I was being considered for some "job" and that they had read some stories I had sent to the man who threatened my life. Third, a brief note about future plans. I plan to stay in DC for the time being and try to find a job asap. I plan on contacting friends for some short-term help and then I should be back on my feet. I don’t like to offend, annoy, or anger people. I don’t like to burn bridges. I hope that you will accept my apology. All the best.
Rap lyrics
My eyeballs almost went into the trashcans
Went to Sibley Hospital.
Running CIA, hey hey Another day, another string two eyes two windows didn't do a CAT scan didn't do an MRI didn't check my heart, which I think is in danger If any of you are in any condition to come ot my apartment and take me to a decent medical facility, I would be most grateful. Please help. I don't have the money to get my prescription filled. No working cell phone No working internet Thank you. It would be really great to see you at my apartment. I'm in prettty bad shape.
All the best.
Just a warning to everyone who has read my posts that some Delta force torturers might now try to split your brains and give you wrong information, along with some other people.
Clyde Roberson is still looking to scan.
The DOS wants to hear what people say.
There is no God in the USA because the marquis de sades control everything in the USA.
Fiction
I think that some people in the US are continuing to USe me to find "fixes" to problems they created.
They started this portal silver bullet crap and they won't respect my privacy so that I can take care of my health.
They keep after me, trying to find out where I am going, what I am thinking, etc. My original profiler probably had his wife e-mail me part of the time. I suspect he did. I can sometimes guess who is writing e-mails.
She was a creative writer, so maybe she used some of my materials for her career.
Now my original profiler wants to keep torturing me to find a fix for him and his wife?
I'm not sure he knows who is wife is. Is his wife his biological wife, Avril Haines, or who? I think some high level people want me to find fixes for their husbands. Obama's hit woman (Carol?) is a big brain designer. I think she wants to kill Putin.
Fiction
I also oinked today when the US gov left my body momentarily and then my tongue twitched. Are there electrodes in my tongue, too? Oink, oink, oink, oink. I'm a filthy Russian pig. Do you want to see my Holocaust wig?
Rap lyrics
I forgot to mention. Soon after an angel left me, I thought of my mother. I shook my finger at the torturers. I thought of my father and imagined shooting them all. I felt like a Russian soldier. It felt great. I was at peace.
Some truth, some fiction
I bought some "Naked" juices. My psychiatrist torturer would drink those beverages. I could never afford them. Today I said what the hell and got whatever the hell I wanted to drink. The naked juices are pretty good. Of course, I'm no longer talking in any code and some of you are and so you're always fucked up. Oh, and there was a shooter in the park that I walked by. The CIA hit woman is protecting Obama. But some people think that Obama should obey the Constitution. Some people think he never should have run for a second term. He was tired. His passion is community organizing and civil rights. He should have hit the street and worked against his own policies. That's where his heart was. I was just his pen. I think he might be looking for someone he can trust. Well, I'm not sure that's me any longer. I wish him no harm, but I hate the US government. I really do. Meanwhile, if I die soon, please, please ship my body to Russia. I want them to do testing on my body. I do not want my body on US soil or EU soil.
I am trying to send this letter to President Putin.
If you could please just print it out, not read it, and mail it, I would be much obliged. My printer isn't working and the website of the Russian Embassy in DC isn't working. Dear President Putin: I apologize for the odd nature of this letter. I am fighting for my life. Thank you. If you have any information that could help my health, please tell me. If you can afford any money, please give me some.
Fiction
Took a walk today. Thought about a lot of conflicts that are going on within the US government. It seems like Michelle Obama, President Obama, the CIA, the military, the Pentagon and the DOS want different things. I think there is a program to turn people into part electronics. Arms do certain things and it looks all so cute and model-esque, only it's grotesque. The tongue twitches, the eyes twitch, some kind of scanning is done via the eyes, etc. Some things are done to genitals. I think that perhaps a chip was implanted in my head or something else was done re: biological warfare. I recall that I roomed with with a person from Iran who was, I think, informing for the US military. Perhaps the US military and German military were collaborating on my torture there. When I started thinking about President Putin when in Germany, my roommate freaked out and I was kicked out and put in a crap room and all kinds of awful things happened re: brain mapping and so forth. I think the DOS wanted to get to know Putin without really trying? The CIA or someone wants to build on to this brain map that they have of me. They have set up some things in Russia. Those people hate me. They have all kinds of nasty things planned for me there. I want nothing to do with the CIA. I want nothing to do with the US government. I walked to the church. I think I brought some peace to the US gov. Then I thought about what I really wanted. I sat down on a bench and recalled how the Pentagon had used my head to find God. I hate that. Now they have mapped some area of the brain where I find God and sometimes I can't find God in my mind. So, I had to stand on a bench and look down at the Pentagon monster who grows bigger and bigger and eats minds. When I stood up, my head was near a window. Then I found God and it felt like an angel left my body from the right side of my body. I didn't like a lot of people entering the church. They work for the US gov and they are providng misinformation about me in the church. I don't belong in the church with all of these politics in my head, so I sat outside the church. I realized how they use certain frequencies and noises to trigger certain things. I shook and spat and threw up and called my torturers by name..mostly departments in the US gov. I'm afraid I was profiled at the church. I think they might draw some wrong conclusions regarding where I placed my backpack. I hope they're not that stupid. I felt the US gov leave my body several times, but they kept coming back for more. I scratched my body. There's no ring on my finger. I scratched my arm and red lines appeared..one, two, three, four. Red dots appeared. The red lines started going up my arm. As I thought about friends, bumps started appearing on my body. I think my very body is used for brain mapping and profiling. The blisters on my feet correspond with people, I think. I think the US gov wants the stuff in those blisters to prove who was a "traitor" and who wasn't. In my opinion, several people at the Whtie House, the Pentagon, the CIA and so forth were the traitors. Those who helped me not be tortured are not the traitors. But the US gov is so screwed up, who knows what they will think. After the angle left me, I sat down, I leaned back. My head went into some bushes and my body was horizontal. I felt like friends were carrying me some place. I think people were meeting in the brown building near the church. Many of them had guns. Many of them wanted to kill me. I walked to CVS today and my body shook when I saw the pharmacist..he was filling a prescription to kill me. I shook when I went by many products and realized how easily they poison people. A woman helped me find Tom's of Maine toothpaste. I was looking for baking soda to brush my teeth without chemicals (that's what we used growing up because we were poor) but Tom's of Maine was the next best all natural toothpaste. When the church bells rang, I had some peace. But the people and the noises all came back. I hate it in the US. I think some Pentagon guy wanted some ethical new crop? Then he wanted to shift the blame on those people and call them the traitors. Meanwhile, he's still scanning. He's looking for "cash" whatever that is a code word for. My backpack was stolen. It had all of my money and other items in it. I'm not going to go to a US hospital. Or one in Europe. I want to get to Russian soil for my health. I trust the Russian doctors. I want them to have the evidence because some of it might pertain to Russian citizens. If I was thinking of Russian citizens when the changes happened to my body, then my DNA likely changed. I don't want to reveal anyone's DNA. Meanwhile, I think Michelle Obama is going to stop doing her monster mashes and cute little pregnancy campaigns. I hope so. I hope that many people who helped me are getting onto planes or talking to lawyers. Don't trust the US health system or legal system. It's very corrupt. I went to the store and got some hydration. I think the stupid Pentagon man thinks that I'm still "scanning." I'm not. I buy food for vitamin content. Why don't they ever understand that? I'm not sure what to do. It seems that someone was thinking about rooftop access when I came into the apartment building. I have no reason to go to the roof so I came back into this hellhole of an apartment. I got a rush of my period again. I think the Pentagon and US gov want my left arm but I'm not going to give it to them. I got good vibes (in the normal sense of the term) from a few people outside the church. I'm going to return to the church and see if I can talk to a few of them that I trust. I don't trust some people affiliated with that church, unfortunately. I want to get to Russian soil just so that they can take care of my health first. Then I'll figure out some things later.
Fiction
I'm thinking about a music video I used to like. It showed people having fun again, running, a woman flying a kite who hadn't had exercise in a while. Now I hate that video. The one who looks straight on at the camera seems to me to be a CIA hit woman. I bet she puts things in toothpaste. I bet she works for Obama.