Jade Helm & Our Paranoia

I'm jealous. It looks like fun.

Anyway, I've been watching them for a while now. I'm not after the military so much as our wannabe soldiers and stars who are advertising, and already using, non-lethal weapons against us.



Those of us who watch knew about surveillance way before Snowden came along. We also knew about the gang-stalking and other crimes.

Bosses of the world, no need to fear us. Most of us are busily reenacting childhood scenarios and/or stuck shadow stabbing. Shadow stabbing can be quite humorous, however. It's like, "It's totally the evil reptiles." To the more personal, "Your stepmom is really made out of tiny spiders."

Meanwhile, people like Madonna are trying to bring back slavery, which stresses people out.

Who is the master? He sucks at his job, or they all do!

The problem with the general public is that they don't know these are normal happenings. Some we have to fight. Some we don't. The world isn't ending. There is another mountain to climb.



People are just being people. The world spins on.

I'm not 100% sure, but I think we're starting to have problems with out-of-control science experiments and things around the country.

White Hick Vs Section 8 Woman

So, you know by that title this isn't going to end well.



I used to be like Hick Girl. I was taught to work for others until I dropped. I also believed people could sue me at the drop of a pin, so I stayed in line at their beckoning.

Like I said before, I was jealous of black people for a time. I went on my vacation to the funny farm after a while. Nobody saw that coming...

Anyway, I like the black woman in this video. She knows nobody cares. I learned this when I went crazy. I mean, I knew they didn't care about me, but I did try to get help despite my realizations. I learned my lesson again.

"Go call the police. Go call the governor. I am the bad bitch. The bitch you will never know." ~Britney Spears

I'm at 1:58-1:61.

You have no idea what I've had to deal with. I wish Putin would hand it over for all that.

94! I'm a Champ!

I went out with my family today. Sometimes, a break from my routine is good, especially in the fresh bowling alley with people I care about--and nachos.

I used to go to that bowling alley when I moved out for the first time, good memories. It was right next to my apartment. I'd go to the arcade inside and blow five dollars on the racing machines. I hit number one so much I'd be in there for a while with my free games. Racing is the only video game I'm good at. I have a hard time with the adventure games because they take more strategy instead of reaction. I get bored of chasing magical beings around castles as well.

It's like, "Get over here, you stupid fairy. No one cares about your dumb tune and sob story about how some evil minions took over your domain. Your heart is broken, and you let it happen in the first place, and now you're going to take all my time up on some quest when I could be spending jewels at the potion hut..."

Anyway, back to bowling, today I scored a 94 on the first game and a 70 on the next. I scored the highest I have as an adult in the first game. My goal is usually 80. And watch out folks, I have a "special" way of throwing the ball so that it will go in the center. I swing my arm back and forth, turn sideways and drop the ball. It goes anywhere from 3-5 miles per hour. I believe the computer is only nice to me about it because it thinks I'm a kid.

Still, I had a good day.

Macho Putin

I know I shouldn't lash out at Putin, especially given my pathetic grip on politics.

We say mean things about Russia, and Russia returns the favor. We're all trying to screw each other over for control.

Putin hurt me in a way I've never been hurt before though. It was my fault, I guess. I let him into me. I used to have an "I Don't Give a Damn" attitude. However, Mr. Dictator managed to puncture through my defenses.

They exploited that. I lacked free will, however.

He doesn't care. He's Mr. Macho Man over there without a t-shirt, making the gold diggers frisky.

Can I have some gold? I want the house and the five million dollars (after taxes) for damages upon my soul and heart (which exploded).

Be nice!

Triggers and Looters

We could do it this way: <--good times, but I won't get into that this time. Or we could do it this way: http://www.newsweek.com/virtual-reality-used-treat-schizophrenia-psychosis-and-bipolar-354179 Stupid humans...

He says it better.

Putin Needs to Do More Than Yell

http://www.businessinsider.com/russias-huge-military-upgrade-hit-another-snag-and-putin-is-not-happy-2015-7?r=UK&IR=T

Putin has a problem with accountability. He always blames someone else, like the US. His people believe him--for now.

He managed to mess up at the Olympics, even though he had 50 billion invested into it. He must have a special hatred of journalists, so he got revenge by putting them in half-constructed housing there. The ice was rough, an extra challenge.

He made me real "special." That was difficult to survive. I wish he'd pay this parasite for making me a thing of worth.

He's very, "sorry."

Paradise Pointless

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/a-college-student-blows-inheritance-bert-show-205833329.html

I sense stupider people. I am pretty dumb. Well, I'm not pretty either.

Anyway, don't give young people huge sums of cash without structuring it, especially a college student.

On a personal note, my grandparents offered to pay my tuition if I became an English Teacher. I should have taken it, but I felt bad, you know? My grandparents aren't rich, and I worried about their retirement. Not only, but my life was difficult because I had to ride the bicycle in all conditions, which I'm not complaining about. It is a fact. My employer refused to let me go when I had tests. Another manager tried to box me into dating him, and when I refused... Blah, blah, blah... too much adversity.

I joined the army.

I've struggled through many things to go to school. I finally get a chance, and my brain is garbage.

Paradise pointless.

I realized a few years ago I had enough credits for an associates, however, and it's looking like that is the end of the horizon.

I still have to deal with people who want me to be a Walmart Greeter, which wouldn't be a good fix. I've thought about trying a trade, but it's difficult. The change won't happen overnight. I don't have glamorous options. I just have to give myself room to fail at first, not worry so much about it.

An Audience Does Clap

An audience does clap
At the end of the show
They drift away
In directions they go

I was wandering
Like a star in the sky
My plan calculated
With the row of tide

Solid, liquid, gas
What state was I in
Why did I ever believe
Life should begin again?

Guess I was young
Guess I was old
The secrets of life
Always told

An audience does clap
At the end of the show
They drift away
In directions they go

RT Annoys Me!

Part of the problem is that Putin managed to get under my skin--a demon. He isn't paying attention to me now, but the moderators and others on RT know they can hurt me. It's beyond my ability to control, damn backthought.

Putin has blown up to god-like status in my head. When someone deletes my comments, I feel a slice in my skin, and I restrict (a problem I picked up from other incidents; it affects my whole body).

I think it quite interesting myself, however. Of course, he was a spy and has understandings. As I look back on my writings, I notice I have similar ones, just lacking the same vocabulary, like my understanding of subversion, as it occurred with me.

Putin wants me to kill myself or be so low I can't do anything but suffer. He is a loser. He burned his own records, which is how he managed to get ahold of a high position when he honestly didn't deserve it. All he does to get popular is take off his clothing. Keep your crabs to yourself.

He is full of himself. Why would I have to die to fulfill his ego? Why should I be put in pain? Why would you care?

I know it's because he wants to get in with my former superiors who probably didn't like me. They aren't so vain. They don't like a lot of people, but they follow the law still.

I get a pension. Britney Spears, Madonna, Marilyn Manson, the guy from X-files and a few others can suck it, honestly. I am disabled. I'm working on it.

As far as my issue goes...

They're probably like, "What the Hell?" Don't ask, help me. @_@ I was in love with Putin. My undernourished thought process made me stupid.

I have to make everyone happy all of the time. Arff.

Sizzling brains...

Friends

I grew up having to have unnatural relationships. As usual, this was the call of the IEP, the known god of school Hell. For some reason they couldn't explain, I hung out with myself most of the time. I still had pride then, and I didn't want to reveal the truth: nobody likes me. I wanted to keep the truth a secret so that I wouldn't have to go to therapy or any other form of brainwashing.

I spent a summer with kids who'd been severely abused. The school had placed me in self-esteem camp (again, a wonder). For the record, I don't have low self-esteem anymore, and I consider it a massive character flaw to have low self-esteem, as it's usually manipulative and wimpy.

I have a realistic world vantage.

Anyway, they sent me to this camp where the kids were in there due to SEVERE abuse. One kid had seen his father kill his mother and then went to school. Despite this, he was a happy child, social and got along with most people. In the corner, the girls sat and braided each other's hair. They had been molested.

In the camp, they mostly left me alone. I had to sleep on a mattress with a giant stain on it while they tormented the counselors who had admitted to drug abuse.

I had to share my "problems," and I was humbled by theirs. I was like, "My parents are too busy for me," which was true. I told them a wee bit about school and how people trapped me in their nets of bullshit. This is where I should have stood up for myself again. The reason I didn't was because I enjoy being alone to some extent.

Nope

Nope.  Nothing.  Here.

Stop trying to manipulate me.  I tried to tell them, sat in my barracks' room, but they are too busy destroying virgins and the helpless.  Roman suicides. 

Nothing new.

ROAR! From the Housecat

What makes some people more able to tolerate the bullshit in life?

I have spent a long time trying to explain to people why I can't do this or can't do that, and they yell at me, saying I am the "victim." In reality, I am limited, but that doesn't mean I have to tolerate the abuse I often get from others, which I have thus far. Then I whine about being abused, especially people who do "Work Bitch" to me.

I'm working on it.

Dumbo.

Anyway, I'm able to do something now: avoid the abuse.

I have outbursts. I always have. They're from built up tension. So far in life, I haven't reasoned why I'm so upset. I allow other people to dominate me, and then screw up my life. +insert Madonna's lobotomy.+

It's bad conditioning.

There's an old tale about an elephant on a leash. Even when it grows, if that leash is put on it, it will still obey like the leash means something.

Snap!

<--a little dramatic.

I'm Not the Only Stupid Person Here...

I have waited a long time for redemption. Brainz.

Anyway, the internet can be evil...

I'm happy this guy hasn't found my page. Contrary to popular belief, I do not want that kind of attention. Sure, I like receiving a compliment for one of my books, even though they're terrible. However, I'm not trying to be another trashed out star.

It's funny how big of a fit the real attention whores threw when I stated my opinion with my malfunctioning brain. They jumped all over me for themselves.

The brain doesn't work. Go away.

I did have to spread everywhere to survive the clash of titans.

I made a giant mess. I had to claim a little authority there. They started freaking out because they thought the mess would amount to something bad for them. I was like, "You have control. Nothing happens without permission, so just ignore it." All they care about is being seen and promoted. I make them feel important.




My intents were honestly to get my brain fixed. It failed.

I Think I Want Revenge, Not that It Matters Now

I Do Think Campbell is Stronger than I Am

She had stuff going on as well, but it didn't bother her. She functioned still as I whined (still do). I know. She told me to get over it.

I should have.

It's been over six years, not that time means anything to a schizophrenic. Very little has meaning in my shell of a person. I'm not the old Kaela I used to be. She died.

I have deconstructed many of my thoughts, and the horrible things they stood for in reality. It's a shame. It's embarrassing. When you're schizophrenic, a lot of odd cognitive things occur. You think things that you don't want to think, and your thought process runs wild, but you'll still use the same line of thought, even though it's faulty.

I fight through the cobwebs of evil intents. I fight my internal feed as well.

Another aspect that's annoying about schizophrenia is that you hear voices that are wrong. Let me stress that again: WRONG. Sometimes, I want to side with them, want to believe them, but 99.9% of the time, they are bad. I used to consult them for advice, which led me to self-delusion.

Apparently, Campbell made her other roommate crazy. I don't know why they blamed her. It's like when they went after my superiors. It's like... Well, I have a brain problem. I'm working on it. I still can't control everything.

Campbell just has a lot of strength. I think it intimidates others.

This was funny though. They went straight for it.

Wake Up and Be Demoralized

First off, I have issues with relationships. The doctor wrote I have a child-like understanding of them. I guess this is true for a few reasons.

One, I was poorly socialized. I had to have friends to hide from others. I am not valued in my realities. I'm at people's mercy.

Two, another issue is the abuse the school system put me through. If I had an outburst, which I'm famous for, they would blame me, and it would get ugly fast. Everything was somehow my fault. I'd hide myself and wait for the next round of inappropriate discipline. Other parents would fight with me, just like they did in adulthood. Their precious babies were never to blame.

Three, I was kept to a purity standard where I had to have all these false morals nobody follows. It fried my brain.

This has traveled into adulthood with bands like Placebo, Madonna and Bjork. I started to think for myself. Suddenly, I'm selfish, dirty and fake. Nobody but me lives in such a mannerism. In the end, I am wiped clean with a TBI and go about for my next shitpile.

It's different when you're disabled. You know you aren't going to rise (no pity here, mere reality). It's not really a shocker when people pass you by. You can't stop them or even compete with them, even if you had the ability to. I did a number to the stars this last time, however.

Not that it matters...

Another thing: we can't compete. I think about myself... give her a lobotomy! Someone can call me out, and it's over because everyone hates me, as I am useless to them. They can have all these horrible qualities, but, as usual, I have to be purged.

In the army, I had issues with the weak and the strong. I'd like to be strong, but it wasn't allowed. I made friends with dear velociraptors. They wanted to use me--and they did. I kind of walked around in my own demoralized world. My ex had told me I needed human interaction, which I was terrified of for many reasons... and rightly so. I did, and I found Marilyn Manson and the people from X-Files.

Talk about some bad luck.

Holes in Cheese

I haven't written in a while. I don't write to anyone. I live in my hallucination (Lorde's hologram), the one put over me to hide all that creeps inside. Don't push me too far out, or I'll lose what sanity I do have here. Let me have what isn't anything; could it hurt anyone but the insignificant me? I was given a corpse for life, after all.

So, I've gotten a little better at dealing with my schizophrenia. I know now it isn't real, but I still wrestle with it and its deviant ways. It's strange to have to hide what should be silent to other ears, though they always want to know to exploit me.

I've been caught in a bad thought cycle lately. I don't know how to describe this. Thoughts enter my brain and grab hold of me. They are against the back of my own thoughts. When I still felt psychic pain, I would lash out. The medicine stops that at least. I haven't been angry in a while nor bitter.

Life is what it is.

It's better now that the psychotronic people don't talk about those inner demons. I'm going out on a limb and saying interfering makes it even worse because it isn't me to begin with, and I'm guilty for crimes I fight against. My doctor also refuses to talk about delusions. It's for the best. Mine are like gossiping women--most anyway.

Though I do miss some of them, the ones who were ghosts to talk to.

I'm seeing my old friends shine. They weren't ever my friends, and as we enter adulthood, that word "friend" takes new meaning anyway. I know I'm not a loved creature. I'm always the one they don't talk about, the one in the shadows with all the filth as usual.

It takes one to know one. I guess they've done all they can. I will never rise, never be anything more than some fat woman on charity. I can't escape. It isn't within my ability to, even if I had been alone all those years. People have dreams. I'm not allowed by definition, things they forget.

Don't interfere with other lives, they say after destroying me. That's why I hated being special needs and everything else. I'm not privileged with respect or dignity. They don't understand the words they use.



I am guilty by association. Leave me alone! Live by your own creeds. You probably wouldn't survive.

And, as usual, she's shining bright. There is no God!



No, I am not making fun of the mentally challenged with Borderline Personality Disorder (unlike some people). I'm just saying that if Miss Punk Peace gets to live life, why am I denied? It's always me.