So Putin got the thumbs down from his boss

He's described as "mediocre."

He was sent to go through newspaper clippings because his German wasn't good enough or something.  He doesn't whine about it, and he used that time to further himself.  He eventually became a President when his time was called.


Like he's a failure.  That's what the news is trying to say.

Float while you can because they'll come for you later.

And yes, I know the proving grounds.  I'm a bilge bitch, baby (Bad Romance -- by Lady Gaga).  I get it, the feeling.  I don't think the fumes were helping me.

I think this treatment of Putin was partly because he was so young and impatient. 

Excited.

It's a curse many feel when they are looked down upon by others in those services.  Hold on, your time will come.

Great... anyway,

 Also, being picked to go to special training is random for the most part.  When I was an 88L, one male was sent to Afghanistan.  Randomly. Some were selected to get medical training and got to stick each other with needles.  I was, curse the heavens above, sent to a live fire.  Also, I was sent to do chemical drills in MOP gear.  Of course, it was in El Paso and the middle of the summer.  I was crazy when they put me on funeral duty.

It's like a time warp to me.  I'm still waiting, buddy.

Being Pathetic

The littlest violin begins to play...

I've had to endure the dumb argument of, "fair is fair."  It's actually, "Fair is fair to you."  I'm a fool, and I've bought into it a few times, thinking I wasn't allowed to earn things or do things because I'm unworthy.  They'll flash their 150, and they'll expect me to bow down when they've done nothing but demand some sort of birthright.

You have to pay for the ice cream.   I don't have to buy it for you, and you don't get my place in line.

Like many others, the public education system caught me in hard times, and I was forced into remedial classes and extra help, which basically made my homework time explode, and it scrambled my brain with an array of subjects. 

Why was I in special ed?  It was the same vanity of a deception others feel is fair. 

What happened was I was in an experimental class in first grade.  They taught us to read by sight and not phonetics.  Sight takes longer to catch onto, and it makes spelling uber special sometimes.  They took my IQ and found it was 130, but I was performing horribly.

I love the basement.

I couldn't read.  They kept giving me more and more assignments, keeping me in the grade with normal kids, just because some moron in charge didn't bother to ask why I couldn't spell things out. 

My second grade teacher also hated my grandma, and she took it out on me.  My clothes' pin was always rising up on the punishment chart for things like, "Not finding a place in line."  I was usually in the special room, but I came back for lunch and had no idea how we were to line up. 

I also had a lot of family problems, including incest, alcohol, verbal abuse, drugs and neglect.  I won't get into it.

I eventually went crazy, and the school got involved again.

I've tried many times to escape my fate, but I'm not strong enough.

I used to go psycho about intelligence and fair is fair.  I've learned it doesn't matter.  It's best to distance myself away from harm.  I don't have to do it anymore. 

Yes, I matter.  I am not going to worship you.

Vent over...

Everyone has a least one crazy member, been abused somehow and spent time in the river against the current. 

Not My Nature and Strangers

So, I thought I would bitch for a minute. 

Like you guys, some of my relatives drive me crazy.  I've often vented on other people, like friends, and I came out as the "victim."  Basically, no one wants to hear me whine about it.  Okay. I've distanced myself away from certain people in my family, as I enjoy breathing.  There is a problem with part of my family where they have no fear and don't pay attention to what is around them, nor do they know how dangerous certain situations are. 

Over the years, I've had to balance my family's lies.  Strangers pick and chose what they say and bash me with it as a power game.  My childhood would read like a VC Andrews novel.  I'm not writing it.  It sucked enough.

Also, another annoyance is when strangers step into my personal life knowing little about me. Cough. Putin.  I get to hear how I owe this or that or how I've never suffered.  I used to make the stupid mistake of telling them what went on.

  I burst their bubbles.

Marilyn Manson played that card on me.  I always fall for it, too.  It makes me mad.  Here I am again.
I wish I would have had an easier ascent into adulthood, but things didn't go properly.  I got cheated with a smile and denial. 

I tried everything.

I'd been hoping I would some day have my own voice, but I don't.  I have to chew on shit.  The strangers make it their way, and my relatives will agree to an insane amount of tough love.

I empathize with Otto, the kid who was destroyed in North Korea.  I know what happened to him, and it almost happened to me. 

Thanks.

I go off because it pisses me off, but I can't feel it nor deal with the general populations and their lies.  I would tell them to fuck off, but they usually have some authority they're abusing, and they get me either way.  Anyone can fall into their definitions.  I partied last time.

I'm a favorite.   

I want the settlement from Putin.  You can be my special helper.

Other Crazies

So, I've been trying to get Putin to pay me the settlement for years now.  I spent some of those years in agony from a head injury, which was brought on by Putin's influence and using the picture that inspired everyone to "cure"/"kill me."  I don't understand some people.  Why are they so emotional over a simple transaction?


The first crazy I got thought I wanted to marry Putin and wouldn't leave me alone about it. This was after the incident with the attempted suicide nor "friends with cures."  We'll leave the weird father-daughter dynamic out of it.

Sorry, I'm not a sociopath.  Other people have issues, too. Why are mine so damn important? 

Oh well.  She did nothing to me but rant about how Putin wouldn't marry me, and she wouldn't stop.  On the dream machine, I confessed the depth of my soul, countless words never to be emulated again.

"What do you want?"
"To give Putin an erection."
"What?"
"There are Russians at the window."

So much for that machine making us tell the truth.  I really, really wanted to fuck Putin.  I was at that age.  Little ball of frustration.  So. Damn. Desperate.  I hate being ugly.  Anyway, I don't want to marry Putin.  That would be awkward and impossible, really.  I do not know much about Russian culture.  I happen to think their leader is hot even still, but I can't feel it, just think it. 

I love you, baby.

Another crazy came around, and now I'm a terrorist.  There was a time I had to spread all over the internet to survive, as things are still fragile at the moment.  As for doing it on purpose, I have an IQ of 116 and severe memory problems.  Are you joking? I was.  I was desperately trying to keep them away.  I don't even know how to blow anyone up.  I understand grenades (which I'm good at) and the M16. 

I want the settlement, Putin.

I Would like it Monday, if Possible

I lost a good chunk of my life, was harmed and chased like a dog.  I'm destroyed.  Other things happened, too.

It's too late to use stem cells, and they don't know how to use them on a newly damaged brain (basically, it has to be fresh, as I was for nearly two years).

I want peace away from this crazy world.  I want the settlement.  I'd like to move ASAP, but it's up to the leader when.  Know I really want it, of course. 

I shall hide until I die.

Having a Weak Mind

Often times, I try to go along with the flow in life.  I never developed good argumentative skills.  I tend to shy away from other things or be fractured, these days.

This is a rant about Putin in some respects.  I went back on myself because I didn't know what to do.  It was his fault in some respects, and what annoys me even more is not only that he won't confess, but the fact they can -- and did -- use weapons to see into our minds. 

Many people live in a bubble, but this technology has been around since the seventies.  Recently, they have used it on a campaign to save money on mental health expenses.

People hate the mentally ill. 
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyqNlMoLp9M  <--it's annoying.  My "masters."  Meds have helped me.  The assaults on my mind did not.

I'll admit I was sick -- and they knew  it -- but they decided to play games on me. 

Anyway, if they were so concerned about cost, why not use the mind machines to see who is sick and who isn't? 

No, no, we have to be kooky, like thirteen year old boys playing with a rat in a box.

I want the settlement. 

Triggers

I hate to use the word "trigger."  It reminds me of the way our brains have been raped.  I became aware of it around 20.  I'd had triggers before that, but I wasn't a conscious being yet.

I spent a lot time in angry land with triggers and their delusions.  I couldn't think. 

I read a comment I'd written recently, and I know it could have bothered people, but I haven't been able to express myself PC for a long time because my brain has been altered.  The comment was made about how underprivileged students got everything, and I had to work blah, blah, and I had to join the army to get school.

School has been a goal for a long time.  If only I could go fulltime, I'd be like them.  Satan played a joke on me where he had me jump through various hoops, and, in the end, I became even more disabled.

haha

Back in the day, people were really cruel to me about school, and it was treated like a privilege.  Like you guys know, I was in special education, and it hurt my education because we sat in a room with many others and got the answers given to us.

I harbored  a lot of hate in my heart from all that, and I went into myself.  I had some family problems growing up, too, and I became tired of always taking the blame and owing people.

The triggers and their delusions caused me to do some stupid things.  Not anymore.  I am a person, and I can be wronged, like with what Putin did.  I try so hard... and it never works. Not whining anymore, and I'm not giving up.

Anyway, I don't hate underprivileged people.  They have their burdens--more than me.  We all do, no matter what class you're in.

BTW, if you asked half of the people on the street about privilege, single moms, welfare queens black people and Medicaid, you'd get some nasty hearts, too.  It's why the psychotronic people pick them.

I work as hard as I can on myself, but I'll never be perfect.