Just got home, exhausted. She is right now fast asleep with Hash by her side, and after my shower I join her. I never thought I would struggle with vulnerability but I think I should be the one to make that jump soon.

I've read the 5 books by Karsten Dusse, a German writer. A nice story about Bjorn Diemel and his way to a better work-live balance through mindfulness. It's a guide wrapped inside a story which makes fun to read. Netflix also released an 8 piece series about it. The makers of the series did an impressive job, transferring the book into a visual format. So, give the books or the series a try. It's worth it. 🙂

Some techniques mentioned in there are, for example, breathing. When in a stressful situation, stand straight and breathe. Feel everything around you. How does the floor feel under your feed? What do your hands feel, the material of your pants or jacked? And so on.

On Sunday, I needed exactly this. I was cooking with my oldest, while the little one was lurking around us in the kitchen. Both kids have the habit of not caring whether the other one has a problem or requires attention. The number 1 rule for them is (they think this is a rule), who screams louder is the one who gets attention. (We try not to obey this rule) So while I was cooking with the oldest and explained to him what and why I was doing the cooking, the little one required attention. I don't know why, but at some point it got chaotic. My oldest was asking questions and the little wanted to share his ball and was insisting that you will take it. Then the pot boiled over.

Instead of screaming, I said out loud to myself, so that the oldest can hear it: “Breath. Hold on, stand still and just take 3 long breaths”. I stopped everything and did exactly this. After I was done, I spoke to myself and checked if the oldest will recognize it. “Do everything, step by step. First take the pot from the stove. Second, check in on the little one. Third, focus on my oldest. Forth, clean everything.” It was a strange situation, but my oldest seems fascinated in what I did there. After we were done with the cooking, he talked to me and said that he liked how I handled the situation. Later that evening, when my wife was back, he said the same to her. I was proud of myself.

Together with my wife, we made the plan, that we will do this whenever we can. Preferable in situations that are easier to handle. So that the children can learn from us, how we will solve these situations, where we are on the verge of exploding. I wished, I had something like this in my childhood.

I like this, with children it is never too late. There are living mostly in the moment, and you can always change directions and fix it.

---

36/100 of #100DaysToOffload

#log #parenting #selfImprovement

My aunt used to live in Paris

I remember, she used to come home and tell us these stories about being abroad And I remember she told us that she jumped into the river once, barefoot

She smiled

Leapt, without looking And tumbled into the Seine The water was freezing She spent a month sneezing But said she would do it again

Here's to the ones who dream Foolish as they may seem Here's to the hearts that ache Here's to the mess we make

She captured a feeling Sky with no ceiling The sunset inside a frame

She lived in her liquor And died with a flicker I'll always remember the flame

Here's to the ones who dream Foolish as they may seem Here's to the hearts that ache Here's to the mess we make

She told me “A bit of madness is key To give us new colors to see Who knows where it will lead us? And that's why they need us”

So bring on the rebels The ripples from pebbles The painters, and poets, and plays

And here's to the fools who dream Crazy as they may seem Here's to the hearts that break Here's to the mess we make

I trace it all back to then Her, and the snow, and the Seine Smiling through it She said she'd do it again

---

---

In truth, my aunt less lived in her liquor than merely existed there. The dreamer in me loves the idea of the adventurous, fun-loving person this piece from LaLa land pictures. But in reality, it is a much sadder existence. Or it was. One that makes you wonder what she experienced that would drive her to the bottle… and the needle. Something so powerful that it would not only destroy her, but her children and their children.

Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to spill into the lives of her ancillary family as well. Which is why I’m laying awake at 4:30a thinking about her and her impact on my life. About how she has left us now with all of these pieces and brokenness to try to understand our own existence and if we have a happiness deep enough to overcome the gift of the darkness she and those like her gave.

I’ll bet you got that gift too. The gravity well of sadness that you keep trying and trying to build enough velocity to escape from but find that you have only managed to land in a higher orbit.

Keep striving. Keep fighting. The gravity isn’t infinite. You will escape.

Until then, remember your aunt in the best possible light, recall her effervescent qualities as a lift and eschew the weight of her darkness that pulls you down.

Love always,

Charlie

---

---

words are our only real power #confession #music

wrinkled pages

Good luck killing me, I’m a work of fiction.

#politics #revolution

I was going to be inspiring or whatever, but fuck it.

These assholes think us so easily controlled and maybe they’re right. People in power are so arrogant that they overtly ignore the laws that they tell us we must follow. The ultra rich, the politically powerful… those who would see everyone serve their never ending quest to amass more power.

It’s always, always about power.

If we want this world to change, we have to discard the chains they use to control us. Their political parties, their media, their dystopian version of the Internet, their arrogant invasion of our personal space and our personal lives… we cannot continue to cede authority to them and expect them to change.

But hey, maybe there’s nothing we can do.

But you know what? If we’re truly fucked, I’d rather die with a bloody grin and a ‘fuck you’ on my lips, knowing that at least I tried.

In the meantime, I think it’s time we stopped playing by their rules.

What a lazy and deeply disgusting way to describe what is going on back home, in the Philippines. The Philippines is on its 16th typhoon this year, six of which were just this month. The author, a mayor in the Philippines, even quoted the US National Academy of Public Administration for its mention of “resilient communities.” I mean? Did you even read what they actually meant by that? It feels like he skimmed a research paper, hit CTRL+F, typed “resiliency,” and called it a day. Lazily cherry-picking scientific studies is NOT research.

Yes, Filipinos are resilient. That’s true. And the media loves to showcase this by featuring images and videos of Filipinos smiling and singing amid floods and destruction. It’s even become a hallmark of our tourism branding. Foreigners have jumped on this bandwagon, making videos that highlight how Filipinos face calamities with cheerful determination.

But smiling through adversity does not rebuild home nor does it bring back people from the dead. Resiliency does not solve the systematic issues at play, particularly the lack of disaster preparedness and climate inaction. What it does is whitewash the sufferings of working class Filipinos, who are at most disadvantaged during catastrophes, and make them palatable to the ears.

The glorification of resilience creates a dangerous narrative that the we, as a nation, can endure anything. It washes the hands of the government under the notion of 'oh, atleast you're alive and happy.'

Climate justice isn’t about applauding survival. Climate justice is about tackling the root causes of suffering and ensuring no one has to rely on resilience just to make it through.

As Elon Musk continues to clear ascending levels of diabolical madness, many Twitter users are understandably disgusted with the whole thing and looking for alternatives. Many are flocking to Bluesky, an initiative of Jack Dorsey, the original creator and CEO of Twitter. After the sale of Twitter to Elon Musk, Dorsey had joined the board of Bluesky in 2022, only to leave two years later. On Twitter, or X as it was now called, he posted

Don't depend on corporations to grant you rights. Defend them yourself using freedom technology. (you're on one).

In July of 2023, Bluesky made an initial offering of shares for \$8 million, which was followed in October of 2024 by a \$15 million offering. Eyebrows were raised when the second share offering was led by a firm called Blockchain Capital, especially because the new CEO, Jay Graeber, is a software engineer coming from a blockchain and cryptocurrency background, having previously worked as a developer for cryptocurrency called Zcash.

Naturally investors will seek a return on their investment, so Bluesky will have to find ways of making money. They promise not to do it through advertising, but instead offer subscription services. Right now they offer a way to create a personal domain, and they are also musing about things like charging for higher quality video.

---

The goal of Bluesky, like any other social media company, is to make money, and as much of it as possible, for those investors and shareholders. The platform for you to share your thoughts with others is not the goal. It's the mechanism.

Cory Doctorow, who has done a lot of thinking about the evolution of tech corporations, which led him to the concept of enshittification, explains why he won't join Bluesky here. Sure, Bluesky is cute and refreshing by comparison to Twitter, but so was Twitter scarcely ten years ago.

The web was not built to be fragmented into walled gardens that are delightfully simple to enter but practically impossible to leave. Quite the opposite, in fact. The web is designed for democracy. We owe it to ourselves to use it in that way.

#Corporations #SocialMedia #Web #Enshittification #Democracy

Sunday 2024-11-17

Prayers, etc.: * 06:00 – Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel followed by praying The Angelus * 07:35 – praying the Glorious Mysteries of the Holy Rosary, followed by the Memorare. * 08:05 – Readings from today's Mass on the 26th Sunday after Pentecost include – Epistle: 1 Thes 1:3-10; Gospel: Mt 13:31-35. * 08:20 – Thought for today from Archbishop Lefebvre: Before the blindness of minds, before the hardening of hearts, we have a grave duty, a very grave duty: the duty to pray, to join our hands and implore God for the salvation of the world. Circumstances invite us more than ever to raise our souls to God, to revive in our souls the virtues of piety and devotion which the blood of Christ placed in us through baptism. * 10:20 – Praying to Atone for Rome's 2025 Jubilee Mascot * 12:00 – praying The Angelus * 15:45 – prayerfully reading The Athanasian Creed, followed by today's Daily Meditation found in Benedictus Magazine. * 18:00 – praying The Angelus * 19:20 – praying the hour of Compline for tonight according to the Traditional Pre-Vatican II Divine Office, followed by Fr. Chad Ripperger's Prayer of Command to protect my family, my sons, my daughter and her family, my granddaughters and their families, my great grandchildren, and everyone for whom I have responsibility from any demonic activity. – And that followed by the Sunday Prayers of the Association of the Auxilium Christianorum.

Health Metrics: * bw= 213.08 lbs * bp= 145/67 (71)

Diet: * 07:30 – yogurt & applesauce, toast & butter * 09:50 – more toast and butter * 11:15 – garden salad * 13:30 – lasagna * 14:20 – stew * 16:40 – 1 ice cream sandwich

Chores, etc.: * 10:10 – bank accounts activity monitored * 11:15 – tuned into 105.3 The Fan – Dallas Sports Radio * 12:00 – listening to the Packers vs Bear NFL game * 12:40 – switched over to B-97, for pregame coverage of this afternoon's women's college basketball game between IU & Stanford. The opening tip is coming up in a few minutes, and I plan to stay here for the game. * 15:30 – after a big Indiana win, I'm now tuned into the Kansas City Chiefs vs Buffalo Bills NFL Game

Chess: * 09:55 – moved in all pending CC games

posted Sunday, 2024-11-17 ~19:45 #DLNOV2024

Enjoying a quiet, relaxed Sunday. Luckily I worked through the day's chess games in relatively short order. Moved in all pending games in less than an hour, and that left plenty of time keep up with the Sunday prayer regimen.

Happily listened to IU's Women's Basketball Team win their game against Stanford earlier this afternoon. Now I'm listening to the Kansas City Chiefs playing the Buffalo Bills, the game just moving into the 2nd Quarter. Go Chiefs!

And keeping with my trend of following popular sports, I'll probably tune in the Sunday Night Football game. Hopefully I'll be able to catch the first half before heading to bed. We'll see.

posted Sunday, 2024-11-17 ~16:10 #QNNOV2024

(Sorry about the typos)

Dammit I had my post written and didn’t have an account yet. It’s published and floating out there someplace on Write.as :(

I had a good layout of my situation and I lost it. If anyone ever finds it, will you let me know?

I can’t believe I’m actually writing this. This is what’s happening in my life right now.

I wake up everyday hoping I’m just paranoid, but with the hair test results confirming my worst fears, I have to accept this happening and now I’m still kind of in shock.

Sometimes I am unable to be around her and pretend everything is fine, I have cried once.

And then something else happens, or she insists on me drinking/ eating something, and I get sick.

I have been to the ER twice in the past month for cardiac/ neuro emergency episodes.

It took me SO MANY months to catch on. She’s been doing this since the spring, heavily since this past July.

God she’s good, Clinically insane- I’m sure about that. The psychopathy is just sick. Sick and twisted. It’s funny, that’s what she calls me and tells me “I’m delusional and she’s going to call the hospital and put a 5150 hold” on me.

She doesn’t know I got a hair test done. Unfortunately, not all metals were tested, but what I got back is still pretty devastating.

The way she has been smiling at me is just despicable, knowing what I know now.

Her smile is different. Pushy. Malicious. Ominous. Like my Uncle’s.

God, the similarities between the mannerisms I’m going to share are just uncanny. They have the same crazy look in their eyes, I’d call it an evil anticipation.

Now that we are getting an inheritance check, my situation is even more dangerous.

She is in contact with the executor (of course it’s my UNCLE) of the estate and I’m not. That may be a problem.

A couple weeks ago, she told me I wouldn’t be here for my birthday in early December.

Last Thursday she told me, “you might get sad and kill yourself.”

I said “why would I do that?”

She said, “I don’t know, because you’re sick?”

So for the record, I have survived six and half years of HELL, I’m going to see this through to the end.

If I were going to end it, I would’ve done it when I thought the pain was going to kill me.

I’m NOT SUICIDAL!!!!!

If I die in the next few weeks, it’s because I was murdered.

I’m more determined than ever to stay alive and get the fuck out of here with these funds I desperately need.

I’ve been feeling those pains again signaling Complete spinal and bone destruction. My spine was already fragile because of a previous attempted murder plot on my life.

I was poisoned with radioactive materials in 2018 and my life has been thoroughly destroyed since then. Everyday is a conscious choice to stay alive. I could have easily ended it. But I don’t because I want to see them be arrested for murder.

The “them” now includes my twin sister, who I have resided wih since I escaped my Uncles, barely alive.

I am just devastated. There’s no time To stay devastated if I’m going to stay alive.

Gotta find that inner strength baby.

I watched a WW documentary about the beaches of Normandy, almost 10,000 men killed there.

Imagine the fucking fear of watching your brothers get killed right in front of you, knowing you’re probably next?

You’re marching to your own death. The probability was low you were going to survive. Goddamn——- but you did it anyways. Thank you Veterans.

Or the ancestors who braved months on a ship at sea to come find the possibilities of a new life.

For some of our brethren, they didn’t have the right to make their own choices. Their lives were never to be their own. The strength, willpower, and courage to live such a life demands respect and honor. I will honor those who came before me by not being afraid, even though being this honest is what has caused my death.

I will gladly be murdered if these truths make their way to the world.

The trials and suffering of humanity is the one thing we all have in common. We will all suffer in this life, in one way or another. If you’re suffering today, I’m sorry. My heart is with you.

And we will all be scared, fearful of the next steps we know we must take in order to save ourselves, the risks we must take.

That’s where I am. I’m scared shitless honestly. Facing these fears is something I never thought I’d have to do in such close proximity to the murderers.

And that’s why I’m supposed to do this. I mean write this all down for you. At this point, I’m writing wildly and posting things written in the last couple months, when my life blew up.

Like a bubble popping, I had no clue what was to befall me. Once again, I was tricked. Tricked by the promise of a loving familial relationship, the one that’s supposed to be an unbreakable bond of support, care, and friendship.

I’m not very technologically advanced. It’s very hard for me to keep up. I have very limited brain power. And then it gets to a certain point and I can’t understand anymore that day.

Wow, that sounds crazy to write. So yes, I’m definitely disabled, in every way. This is really bad guys. Even with me taking activated charcoal, and I might try to start a course of oral EDTA or I might confide in my new physician tomorrow, I’m not sure yet.

Even with hair test results, I have found there are still skeptics, which is insane to me.

If you examine my body, it bears the long term effects of excessive radiation, the genetic mutations that have caused my life ending illnesses. Yes, plural.

I’m on many medications and oxygen. A quick move out of here is going to be hard for me to accomplish alone. Not to mention the physical burden of having to sort, pack and carry my belongings to the car my sister is going to try and prevent me from taking.

We own it together. She primary borrower and pays the car insurance. I’m co borrower but I pay the car payment. She is going to make this as hard for me as possible. But I know she can’t afford to keep it. She will want to prevent my comfort in any way possible.

Without a vehicle, it’s going to be highly complicated for me to evacuate the premises. She probably will not let me back onto the property. I’m thinking I will have to have a police escort to do this.

Oh God, help me! This is going to be increasingly ugly.

So first, I have FTD, that’s a very important part of this story.
Suddenly this year, August, I really started going downhill.

Like I used to remember what I did maybe 2 minutes ago and suddenly i couldn’t anymore.

Or I’d stop using Canva for three days because I was sick and then I couldn’t remember how to use the program and had to learn all over again. Some of the skills I had didn’t come back.

So that’s the kind of memory disability we are dealing with here, severe, severe.

I have ZERO short term memory. I literally cannot remember what show I am watching during the commercials.

That specific symptom had gotten better earlier this year but I noticed it had been Happening again, as did other concerning symptoms that had occurred during the months of the initial poisonings at my Uncles house in 2017/ 2018.

Even now after all the detoxification, the damage had already been done, permanently.

My hair test levels are higher than when I was originally tested in October 2019.

And now to find she is the reason for the sudden decline, I’m just infinitely saddened.

I have to write, otherwise I’m unable to remember, even traumatic events that should be stamped onto my consciousness have dissipated.

I can watch the same move every single day and not realize it.

As an experiment, I watched the same repeats of two entire series. When the TV was on, it was playing the entire series in the correct order. For 8 months in a row, every single day, I watched nothing except “Murder She Wrote,” and I think I spent a year on “Golden Girls.” A Single series at a time because I thought watching the same media would help me remember.

New flash: IT DOESNT

And I can’t visualize anything, which is, indeed, a shame because my transcendental meditation game was on point prior to 2018.

I was a fucking master at visualization. Good or bad, memories used to play like a movie screen in front of my eyes. I’d always had that ability. I’d have visions of future events, and the feelings I have today do come true or are usually what is secretly occurring. At times I’d definitely describe it as a photographic memory, excellent at memorization. Memory was never a challenge. I was learning two different languages at the same time.

God, I was smart.

I was one out of only 2 people in my AP history class who got a 3 or better on the AP. test. Everyone was surprised it was me. And turned around in their chairs. I shrunk down. I hated attention. Apparently, I didn’t know people talked about me frequently, but I should have figured that out. I was lost in my own little world, trying to recreate the baby I’d been forced to abort in my sophomore year. I was such a fucking wreck of a teenager.

My sister was always smarter, popular and everyone’s friend. She now likes to bring up those years around our adult children to embarrass me. She’s been doing it for years and I couldn’t figure out why she was doing that.

That same smile. God, what a sadistic creature she is.

Back to my media intake experiment:

I realized I’m not going to remember. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch, read or write something. I likely will not recall even when given hints or even part of the sentence, it’s just gone.

So now I try to Jam as much intellectual information I can into my head daily. Things that interest me, bring me joy, research. I have to figure out what’s killing me.

Right now, just putting this someplace is what I need.

And then when I’m tired, I rest my brain.

I just have to let this out. And now with this new development I’m scared. I’m really sick.

I’m desperately afraid to write about this publicly.

But I have to.

I’m too scared to actually write my name. They have people watching me. They’ve been attempting surveillance on me for years. I say attempt because I used to work private security and used to conduct direct surveillance on people in San Diego, so I know a little about the tactics.

They are getting impatient.

And now in my own house, I don’t feel safe.

That’s a terrible fucking feeling.

Welcome to the fucking craziest shit you're ever gonna hear.

Several days a week I still am having terrible realizations as events that happened this near, little thing she’s said have popped into my head.

I’m getting very little done. I’m stunned, still, even though a hair test has confirmed I’m being poisoned.

This is the second time I’ve been chronically poisoned. And now they have to be working together I’m absolutely positive. She couldn’t have known the poisons to use. He must have told her.

You guys 😒😒😒

Like are you fucking kidding me??? My twin sister is finishing what my Aunt and Uncle didn’t, after I barely escaped with my life. I was so ill. I slept, more like passed out, For weeks and months at a time. And that was after months of activated charcoal, oral EDTA, Flushing and detoxing. Trying to rid my systems of the absolute barrage of toxins they tried (and nearly succeeded) to murder me with.

I was so fucking sick for the next two years, Incredibly ill. When I tell you this story, you will understand what a fucking insufferable experience this has been.

((However I have found joy in my animals, my back porch and the dragonflies, butterflies, and the birds who come by with messages from Heaven))

Finding the joy and gratitude in my life, despite this situation, has been made possible. I hold onto the fact that everything that is supposed to happen as is, but I’m not going to roll over and let them get away with it.

I know my sister’s BF is also involved in this. He’s a married nurse who works at the hospital with her. No wonder she doesn’t want to talk about him or reveal any information about him.

They are in this together.

That’s why she denies seeing, texting or even talking to him, even when caught red handed.

I just figured this out, right this second. Of course, they will be just “acquaintances,” if ever they were questioned by law enforcement.

I gotta find out who this guy is.

I’m still taking activated charcoal. She just got me on Thursday with Thorium again. I realized that what I’d seen in our Brita water filter in the fridge.

No wonder the water made me sick. Fuck. This is really bad.

If I make another mistake and drink/eat something she has poisoned, I will die. She is losing her patience.

I’m trying to detox myself.

My hair indicates some of the same poisons from my Uncle’s.

They are higher now than they were in October 2019 when I got my levels tested for the first time with an actual segmented analysis. I checked the wrong box, Otherwise it would have shown the actual months I’d ingested each toxin. I wonder if I can still get my report formatted like that, or if they have saved my sample. Hmm..it’s probably too late now.

But my new test that covered the past two months indicated:

My aluminum is 15x a toxic dose My mercury is 10x a toxic dose

So I may get confused / but I’m doing slightly better, thank God.

I hope you guys can read this. I hope it’s seen by someone out there.

I don’t know when we’re getting the inheritance check but that’s what I’m trying to wait for.

I’ve been so sick these last two months.

Im SO fucking devastated. For the first time in six years, I missed a payment and my credit score dropped 87 points.

I told my sister “I’m so fucking devastated,” with a tear rolling down my cheek.

(She was driving and I saw her smile when I said that sentence. A little smile when she said the words, “I bet. I would be too!”)

My debit card was stolen right before Halloween (and I called the bank about my car payment and they said I had till the 15th) and I JUST got my money back from the bank earlier this past week.

Up until this past week, I was hundreds negative in my bank account thanks to the thieves.

Could someone tell me how to dispute them reporting me to the bureau?

I have worked way too fucking hard for six years sacrificing physically and mentally to make all my payments on time.

So do you think I can could dispute them reporting me?

So :

debit card stolen + being poisoned to death by my psycho twin sister / =

Good 👍 excuse???!

Do you think that’ll fly ????

She said “Psycho” was her favorite Hitchcock movie. I actually recorded us for hours that night, last Thursday 11/16/24, as we were arguing!

I was in excruciating pain after she fed me takeout pizza. It had black flakes all over it and she was being really weird about me eating it.

I tried to pick off the flakes but I think it was Thorium.

You guys if I don’t fucking laugh I will lose it and my ability to maintain my cool and wait for this money.

Well, I believe that’s enough info for the first. Nice to meet you.

I’m very vulnerable because I have FTD (dementia )

I’ve already forgotten what I said. But every fucking word is the truth. I see and speak truth: My brain doesn’t have the ability to lie. I’m pretty fucking special.

I didn’t know people don’t like the truth.

My sister is one of those: scarily (like my uncle) she’s also a sadist.

She is enjoying watching me suffer in tremendously excruciating pain and agony every day.

I cry if I smash a bug. Like what the fuck????

Who the fuck is this person I’m living with????

Talk about light and dark. Angel vs Devil BAD and GOOD.

The palm of my hand is really bruised right now and she’s trying to tell me I fell. I don’t think I did.

I would remember or another part of me would hurt, I suppose because as my sister said I “its really really hard to bruise the palm of your hand. You must have fallen really hard to cause a bruise like that.”

God, this is really a waking nightmare.

I’m trying to get out of here alive***

(((((hopefully physically better than this/ I feel like she’s gonna do a huge dose of something bc shes tired of waiting and we have been fighting frequently……

Microscopically each day I’m regaining a teeny tiny bit more strength. I just can’t stop taking my activated charcoal.

Today I did a SHIPT order for an hour and half and then came home. I’m now laying in bed.

But even that is good for today I think. I’m pretty sure it was thorium I ate last Thursday.

I gotta get the fuck outta here physically able and alive——

***and with my inheritance check.

I deserve to start a new life away from the person hurting me. I have been through so much physically and mentally since this horrible experience started in 2017.

Even though I’m scared, my mental health is about as solid as it can be. I’m dedicated to publishing my writing, and eventually this entire story will be published.

This is a long intro. That’s everything, Except yesterday my sister told me a story (she’s a nurse ) about a man “bleeding all over, gushing, blood everywhere. Everywhere clothes, floor, walls”

And her expression was flat.

It felt threatening.

The vacant stare from someone who will stop at nothing to get what she wants.

There was something imminent to me about that. She was telling me what is going to happen.

I do believe she’s planning on someone attacking me, if I don’t die soon. I know that’s why she’s been asking about my door being open or closed for the last month.

I get feelings, instincts, and emotions from the words and manner in which someone speaks to me.
If I can see your face that’s even better because I practice the study of micro-expressions and am able to “read between the lines,” as they say.

My sister is a pathological liar and it’s been interesting to see the progression since she became aware I was suspicious.

I have recently started locking my door. And she keeps asking me why I’m doing that?

On Saturday (11/16/24) she said, “why are you doing that? Did something happen to cause you to want to…” she trailed off.

I said, “No, since niece is out of the house and may come home, I leave a door unlocked. So I need to shut my door. Plus it keeps the cat out and the dog in.”

And that’s what I need to sleep.

The lock is for Myself.

She said something really interesting things about my Door lately. She hasn’t cared in six fucking years that it’s hot in here/ boiling during the spring and summer.

Now suddenly when we are cooling down she cares if I keep my door open?

Very, very suspicious questions she’s asking and I’ll write another post tonight. She’s about to get up for work and I pack her lunch that she doesn’t eat because she’s anorexic.

Mostly it’s bulimia with laxitives. Which destroys the body, and of course, I knew what she was doing. I’m not fucking stupid and she’s been doing this since she was in high school. My family used to talk about it. I had absolutely no idea and she never provided details about her methods, nor has ever received treatment for her condition.

She never tells the truth. She is absolutely a pathological liar.

I would estimate she weighs about 85 lbs. I weigh 100 lbs and I look big standing next to her.

Your body is a beautiful temple and think of the food and drink as the dirt and water for your garden. Mulch it, weed it, and love the growth you see. Nuture those beautiful tiny seeds and watch them become a gorgeous, strongly rooted flower that sways with the winds of life.

She “binges” with me, which is just eating a normal fast food meal, which we rarely do. Our go-to would be a #1 on the Cantina Taco Bell menu with a large drink. Then my sister spends the next 4 days “sick” using laxatives and purging her system/ unable to eat because she’s having diarrhea, which she causes herself.

See the problem? It’s terrible to see this shit in person.

But apparently I “care too much.”

That’s one of the reasons she’s seething with me and has been since our fight on October 9th because I said it’s going to kill her if she doesn’t get some help.

And I quote, “this bulimia laxative shit you’re doing is gonna kill you if you don’t get some help.”

I couldn’t help myself, it just came out. And I actually did care about her health. This wasn’t a jab or mean comment. It was a frustrated attempt to speak the truth. I can’t not tell the truth with what’s happening around me.

She doesn’t want anyone to question her, on anything, ever.

She wants to be the one to ask questions and control the strings.

And she does, primarily.

((I weighed 115 lbs at the end of July. The beginning of August is when I start feeling sick, really sick, like in bed with flu symptoms and some others that didn’t make sense to me.))

So yes, my sister is also very sick. And she is also slowly dying, but she’s doing it to herself and certainly not from poisons that destroy the body and mind.

She also has a life she desperately wants to rid me from. She has a boyfriend, an excellent job, a memory, a sex life, freedom, money and most importantly,

THE ABILITY TO LEARN:

To be exposed to something and remember it, to watch and experience life with a hard drive, to be able to think of information when needed, to add to the growing number of topics you can talk about comfortably in front of someone.

Ha/I literally have no academic knowledge. It’s hard to be in a world where you can’t remember. What happened yesterday in our country? I don’t know.

The ability to learn is the thing that kills me the most. I don’t have the ability to learn and that’s basically why I will never be anything else than this right here. What I’m doing right now. I have to write. I can’t be any other way.

But right now, I do have to pack her lunch and act sweet for awhile till she leaves for work.

She knows I know. And that’s what scares me the most.

She told me last Thursday I “make her life hell every single day.”

She finally told the truth.

Thanks for listening. And nice to meet you. 👍👏😀🥹😘

Peace. ✌️ 🩷🥲🙏💔 Marie

Instrumentos. 📷 Canon CanonetQL17. Leica R6. 🎞️ Ilford HP5. Hodak TriX

La acción de necesitar comprar aire, sirve de introducción a un recorrido visual entre espacios necesitados de ocultación, y otros que se ofrecen a la luz y sobre los que discurre el agua. Un juego entre luces de naturaleza diferente y un juego de espacios de naturaleza diferente, que convergen en la mirada del observador, estableciendo una narrativa visual asíncrona y estimuladora de un relato de recorridos y miradas al cielo y al frente.

#fotoensayos #fotos2015 #calles

As relative as time

The year draws to its close – as evident in switched-on heating and the dreadful sense of midnight-level darkness in the late afternoon – and I have gotten better at accepting compliments.

George stopped deflecting them. The compliments were real, honest and came from a genuinely nice motion. Given all that, why was my gain still relatively small? They are small compliments. If you want more gain, work more and collect more!

Hmm. How did this “we accept compliments” achievement turn into attention-driven capitalism? You. Better. Work.

Yeah, not falling for the diversion. Let's remember “addictive craving for compliments and validation” for another post. My original question was: why was my gain still relatively small?

They are small compliments. No, they're not. Not all of them, at least. Some are pretty big. Well they are MEANT to be big compliments but RELATIVELY speaking they're not. Come again?

#1 They are no experts.

As unskilled bystanders, it's nice to compliment you. And they probably mean it from the bottom of their ignorant heart. That's still a compliment then, George! They are proud of my achievements and voice that. Making people happy: Accomplished. Sounds pretty static to me, though. Even without any improvement you might please the ignorant. Worse: Even a setback could still be enough.

And what about the compliments I receive from people better than me? Your argument falls flat there!

#2 They don't truly mean that you're super good.

They mean that you are relatively good for your level. And maybe they simply want to congratulate you for trying. A motivation cookie.

The trapdoor opened, swallowed me whole and closed: Non-experts and experts alike were either ignorant or nice, but not honest. George has stopped deflecting the compliments but started challenging their validity or worth. All that remains are scraps.

And you know what? So be it! They're scraps, they're genuine, and they're mine! If you want more gain, work more and collect more. But maybe I can get something better. I started asking the people to explain their compliments, to describe what the like, to ask the experts for guidance.

In the end, what else is improvement but little scraps and little steps, on at a time?

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Last post: “Why should they”