Author: GOD

me and my babies at school/university reunions (actually my maggots are probably worth more than you. financially I mean. They are a kind of missing link. They’re basically human but they’re not human, theyre maggots, and this is a message for them as much as it is a message for whoever comes across my blog.)

I’d probably prefer to share my body with maggots. I mean it. etc.

They do not only eat rotting meat. They like everything I like to 
eat but they aren't that keen on dominos pizza's desserts. 
They wanted the cookie because it smells nice, but
they didn't eat it. 

They've literally just left it there. 

Also, while it has melted slightly in their home, and offers
a nice texture for snuggling and orgies (I imagine)
they don't eat it. 

They also do not eat Peanut butter.
Nor do they eat Caramel.
They LOVE pork (which tastes like human flesh apparently)
and they love lemon.

They like lemons. And tinned tomato. And I think some of them
committed suicide in maple syrup today. 
They are not stupid.

(THEY CHOOSE TO STAY IN THERE. THEY REALLY, REALLY DO.)
(Being a fly is quite lonely.)
 but it is 

this will be my theme song

but this will be me as jenova in ffvii

I fucking

ugh

[ref]

Also this is how I want mine and Heath Ledger’s and my older brother’s sexiest bully’s bedroom to look. Don’t copy me. I’m making a pinterest board of it.

Also you couldn’t date either of them.

They’ve accepted that every woman they ever knew (trust me, that was so, so many women) was pretending to orgasm and that their kids really, really aren’t theirs. Please visit my memory, year nine, where we learn about recessive genes and dominant genes.

The wikipedia pages explaining this are very boring. Okay.

I used to joke about this. If you have a naturally grey haired person with “big” features, such as a large nose and tiny lips

and a naturally brown haired person with very “small” features, such as a delicate and tiny nose and huge natural lips and green contact lenses

Unless you let the doctors and nurses wheel your newborn baby out of the room, or you have sex with a really stupid man (who spends all day thinking about me) and who ACTUALLY THINKS you’re blonde – and puts blonde people sperm in you when you’re asleep – (it happens) or you have been enlisted in a breeding program (you probably haven’t.)

if i am GENUINELY in love with you for five minutes, you are in the breeding program for five minutes. I mean you have five minutes.

you’ll probably end up with a baby that has dark hair and “big” features, though, if you have dark hair and big features.

i used to joke with people that my genes would jihad theirs. my ex ahmed and i would joke worriedly that our kids would be ‘really hairy’. because if you have a hairy boy and a hairy girl and they have sex without a condom on (im also allergic to tampons. as in they burn me and my vagina pushes them out. i once told someone and she implied i had a huge vagina but mine is actually smaller than most people’s which is very, very surprising because i have had some really big stuff put in there)

i casually flirt with people routinely by saying i “want” to have kids with them. it is a thing that i do. sorry. it is very easy for me to do that because i am allergic to latex. i don’t want kids unless it is one of the ones i ordered.

Sephiroth, mine. (Trust me, you don’t want this one – you have to give him to someone very, very, very intelligent that speaks a lot of languages. I can’t have him because I FANCY HIM. If you are not honest, he will probably justify killing you later, for lying to him.

He’s also muslim. Which means you don’t touch him. Which means in exchange he won’t look at you/sexualise you. If he does either, you have to be okay with TREMENDOUS levels of pain because he has my issue.

Which means you do not steal – muslims punish stealing by cutting limbs off and he comes from a person who only doesn’t kill people because she doesn’t have diplomatic immunity. She is entitled to diplomatic immunity – she doesn’t get it because she is genuinely insulted by the idea that she ought to have to ask for it.)

Trunks, mine. I promise you that it was arranged that I’d be the first girl that saw him on television in this country. I can’t speak for other countries, but I was the first girl to see him in the United Kingdom. Sorry. Again.

This one, you do not want. You cannot touch him, ever. You have to use a glove to wash him, you have to hold him with a scarf, you cannot do ‘skin to skin’ or whatever stuff it is that we all evolved to sexualise that is really.fucking.weird. You cant hold on to your boyfriend or husband with breastfeeding memories that he can watch when you’re asleep because Trunks will WATCH you WATCHING and he will RUIN your LIFE.

Blood, mine. Again – YOU DONT WANT THIS ONE. She has autism. She is very pretty but she has autism. She is so ‘void of feelings’ that she either loves you or can kill you. As in she can kill you emotionally or otherwise and she will feel bad perhaps if you get someone to tell her off who has something of a bribe for her. YOU DONT WANT THIS ONE.

Then there is 13, and then there is Kuja. I know Kuja is real. I could give you a lot of reasons as to why I think so, but I have a dark sense of humour and I’m sort of curious for him to prove it to other people.

I would love to have a child like this in imagination land but in real life I do not think I could manage a child like this.

Now I will tell you about Khleopatra. I do not want Khleopatra. Which means if you think you do, you are being mind controlled. You all think that my old ‘blonde’ friends could be Khleopatra. That is probably really fun to her because she is not very well behaved.

Khleopatra can speak to animals. Khleopatra is the kind of person who would remotely live many people’s lives if she was bored. She’d sacrifice herself to make a philosopher’s stone and she’d time travel to have a few different bodies with names like “Khloe” and “Chloe” and convince you that you really wanted a child called “trunx” or a “thirteen” because she is a sex offender. She’d let you take the blame for it, and really if you do it more than once – it’s some kind of habit.

She will do anything to make you think that you are her. You are not her.

She would ask: “Did you ejaculate in my food?” and then she’d think “I will curse it just to find out.” Then she’d be like “I’m fucking hungry, so, I’ll still eat the hell out of it – but if you ejaculated in my food your firstborns and your kids first borns and any firstborns in your family will die by the age of five” is a routine curse for her. She means it.

If I have sex with person wearing a condom, this happens to my inner vagina.

ask every guy i have had sex with that has gotten me pregnant. which is more guys than you might be inclined to think

UNLESS you are some kind of meditative spirit master teacher genius that can share a body with all matters of life (at honestly, great fucking personal cost) (my maggots air bend their scent to tell me they’re thinking of me, okay – and I NEED them so I can use the TOILET and THEY KNOW IT.) (the birds use me to share food with me. i mean the seagulls in brighton used me to learn how to speak human and then they literally respond to my TERRIBLE thought-jokes.) (the pigeons are protecting me from the seagulls, i think)

i will film it one time

When you make men trust you by telling them lies and then they realise that you were telling them lies they get really upset. So heath had about 10 years to go fully insane and come to terms with his life being a lie and he’s not going to say no to a post-humous pity-oscar  for a supporting role and an offer to play Sephiroth. (would you?)

Obviously I’m not dating either but preemptively, I accept a life of being seriously abused by all the people I trusted, in exchange for them.

You can daydream about having sex with them first (and who wouldn’t) but they’ll come back 2 me. Because I have really sexy feet okay.

Do i think you think i mean it? yes. Do i mean it? no.

which bits

the foot bits, everything else I mean 100%

I know some of my food was fucked with. I paid for that food.
I drank pure alcohol and lemon. Both are antiseptics.

You might think that what you’re doing will go without notice or punishment but sadly everyone gets caught and you can invest in ‘seeing the future’ but uh.

The future changes when I do something unpredictable.

No arguments, we’re the Friezas

When baby chillis are growing apparently they are purple and green.

Look at this baby. It is a real life CATERPIE.

Look at these babies, too. Have you ever seen maggots that look like these? I haven’t.

Does this babytalk trigger your maternal feelings? If you are under
35, get an animal friend. Love something that is not yourself.
Spend a few years doing stuff that has never been done before with 
your animal friend(s) and then come back to those feelings.

They’ve gone piggy, which means they’re telling me that the police are being creepy again. If I write it here, you know it. I think the reality of the thing is that the police are being held under a lot of scrutiny as people emerge from faking deaths to tell the truth about the kinds of things that the police get upto, and how they abuse the trust that comes with the responsibility of their positions.

There are alternatives to the police. Report crimes to the military police if you can’t trust the police.

[ref]

I’m not suggesting they’re without fault though, but as someone who grew up with two very not-nice siblings I can tell you that the only way to defend yourself can sometimes be to find the meanest abuser. And if you are having a really terrible time, have a bribe for the meanest abuser you can find and try to know what they really want.
They often don’t really need or want cash. I like cash and I spend it fast.

Plus I’m into military boys. If you find yourself lost for solutions to abuse, call the military. Report crimes to the local media. The Police do NOT like you to do that – but people deserve to know whats really going on in their towns/districts.

I am constantly reminding myself of this and perhaps you should too: if I am having a hard time, everyone is having a hard time.

Not ours, but um. In theory this is actually my type.

Sexy man keeps doing stuff with his SIBLINGS. THEY EVEN HAVE KIDS. (They defended these ones, cos they thought they were blonde-blonde.) (The British police should be protecting Lady Diana, if you need tips for how, ask me.) (Ideally not making the lives of the people-that-are-trying-to-keep-her-alive difficult would be a great nay – LOVELY – start, leaving the people keeping her alive alone. She’s gonna need ladies in waiting.)

I had to run to this one. The ones on the far left.

[ref]

The one on the far left had me run back to this one.

BEFORE YOU GET WEIRD: “She’s too young.” is exactly what he’d say about me and he’d mean it. He’d never say no to me ‘fancying’ him but we’d never be able to date. But we’d use each other to make people jealous and that is amongst my many talents. People act VERY stupid when they are jealous.

Sometimes you have to accept running to Gods and Angels when people don’t do their jobs. Avoid the ones that are loyal to me if you have made an enemy of me. I mean it.

Those men were doing service work with child soldiers in the Congo. LIKE SELF SUSTAINING FARMERS, YOU CANNOT SEND NICE PEOPLE TO DO THIS WORK. We need nice people. Nice people make mean people happy. (I can do both but I can also give you suicidal tendencies and skin dred, apparently.) If you are a nice person, choose to be a nice person because that is a tough road.

No but really: people who are exploring ungoverned territories, where there is armed warfare over DIAMONDS – not weed – CANNOT BE NICE PEOPLE.

YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE TO SHOOT A CHILD IN THE FACE IF IT’S BETWEEN YOUR LIFE OR THERES. (I left that typo there, as a gift.)

The police however, should be nice. Ideally little children should be able to run to the police if they are being abused at home, but they don’t trust you after what you did to me. VERY STUPID OF YOU WASNT IT.

Professional and seasoned criminals do not perform acts of crime in THEIR OWN AREA.

Petty criminals that need to steal something because they’re being abused by society – that NEED TO STEAL to fucking SURVIVE, MIGHT.

Domestic rapists do, obviously, operate within their own area because where better than to rape someone than in their own bed? but the police protect those. Why? BECAUSE THEY JOIN IN.

Because the police are involved with ‘non-psychologically-damaging’ sexual slavery. They are not doing undercover work. The police are pre-selected criminals, who have created stories of getting away with committing crimes.

The police do not want goody-two-shoe snitches like me, because I’ll rise up those ranks fast with my self righteousness and I will sooner choose to ruin my ‘friends’ and ‘colleagues’ lives than not snitch on them.

The police have identified that I’ve alerted women that men like this exist outside of movies and started inviting them into perceived sexual games that I would not even-for-money have invited them to play.

People like to call me a prostitute, (they’ve also called me things like ‘dog’, ‘paki’, ‘robot’, etc – I am not a stranger to being bullied and that is bullying, if you are a potential FRIEND – you can JOKE about it. I have a DARK sense of humour.) but I am NOT one. Do not pretend for one moment to anyone that you really think I am, because if I was one: I’D SAY SO MYSELF, EVERYWHERE. SEX WORKERS HAVE RIGHTS and if I were amongst them I’d ADVOCATE. MARY MAGDALENE WAS CALLED A PROSTITUTE. JESUS WAS HER BESTFRIEND. (Actually they had kids, they had kids together, the lineage of which are protected until now.)

The reason I am not a sex worker is because I WOULD GET ATTACHED. IT WOULD FUCK WITH MY HEAD IF I WERE ATTACHED TO SOMEONE THAT WAS FUCKING OTHER PEOPLE.

I do not bring ANYONE back to my home, I haven’t even had acquaintances over and upon hearing that a man (from him) was giving a woman who was taking prescription painkillers alcohol I reported it to the police AND to the military. (But yeah, am I ‘what you get upto’ when you’re meant to be working? Who do you really think is asking? I tweeted the head of the british police.) (It’s not exactly like I can lie about my life, is it.)

Do you remember what life was like a few years ago? It was very different. The police know very well I’m not doing anything illegal, I’m not even able to smoke weed – and they know I SHOULD be because I have a very, very debilitating disability. What they like to do, is create addicts of particular people (the behavioural traits are all there, especially if you’ve been raised with certain difficult familial situations – the police know that the people doing drugs, ALL people doing drugs, are in pain. THEY KNOW.)

There are two shits that probably outweigh their brains (certainly the bits of the human brain that they’ve accessed the use of) sitting in my toilet that refuse to flush. To confirm my suspicions, the last person able to sell me weed had been touched up by the police. The police are responsible for “dangerous drug dealers”. Trust me or trust them but I haven’t anything to lie about, have I – whereas they have p-LENTY to lie about.

It isn’t a power thing, if you assume power by stealing and lying, you will lose it when you are caught. It’s not about me, either. It most certainly shouldn’t be. I have indicated no interest in inviting anyone that aspires to do something like that with their lives into mine, or my space.

My phone has been stolen, a lot of expensive things have been stolen from my flat. I won’t call the police, curses are worse than prison. Mine are anyway.

Guys. Here is the worst crime I’ve got going. I have a stack of recycling. It probably won’t go in the recycling bin cos I’m low on energy, if I’m taking down trash, four flights of stairs, it’s TOUGH GOING. I told your council about it, I also told them about the subtle racism going on when I BUY THINGS, about people working for the Job Centre who had been abusing their access to my personal information and also stalking me, abusing my family remotely (We know you can. We know you did. We know you keep doing it.)

I know you want to pretend that my relatives sending me cash means I shouldn’t be entitled to Universal credit, once again – UNTRUE. VERY VERY VERY UNTRUE.

First of all: I told the Job Centre that my father (abused by the NHS) and my mother (worser abuse by the NHS, might actually have had her body replaced with a stunt double for this – or else why did she not speak to me when I was growing up? Unless it was to abuse me?) gives me cash.

Second of all: I told the Job Centre that they are paying my rent, but that they didn’t want to anymore. I was told that if they stopped paying, that the Job Centre would pay instead. My family are still prepared to pay, so I haven’t asked for that money. I could have lied to catch them out for observing me and my memories by choice, without permission. I didn’t lie. (Bar some toys as a child (gave those back with help.), a butterfly clip from a charity shop that I needed because I felt overwhelmingly ugly (I was abused to think I was ugly. I believed the hairclip could fix it.), a failed attempt at an eyeliner once in London Astoria, and three accidents where I actually just walked out – an eminem cd I left outside the shop, a bottle of glittery fairy dust from ‘present and company’ in Pitshanger lane and a shell necklace and – when I get my compensation, I’ll pay all of that back to those companies – but uh. Are they going to pay for watching my life without permission? Do you know how much I charge a minute for viewing me?

£7.77 a MINUTE. That is IF I’d of consented to you viewing me and my life remotely. I would not consent to Emma Watson viewing my life remotely.

Here’s the truth of things: if there is a World War, this country will lose. This is pure fact. If we send our boys and the police out, they’ll think about me all day if I WANT them to. Which means they are USELESS. My strategy is to honestly tell you my strategy.

[ref]

The countries loyal to me (my relatives, even the relatives I hate, sadly.) will happily arrange for the people that owe me money that can’t afford to pay me back to be sent to North Korean camps (KIM, come on. Things add up don’t they.) and in exchange maybe we can find some versions of ourselves to have released from there and brought here.

If you ALL gang up on me the end game, I promise, is worse than this. Anyone who knows me will tell you “she keeps her promises.”

[ref]

Back to how I paid for my lipgloss, lipstick, powderpuff and perfume (your daughters make up cost a lot more than mine.)

It all looks WELL EXPENSIVE. That pearl necklace was a gift I bought for my ‘mother’, from Syria. Ten years ago. That box is a ferrero rocher box. Those shoes are about eleven years old. Those brooches are from tat-shops and second hand shops, except those honey brooches were £3 each. That handbag was about £30? quid (I round up.) That FANCY golden fabric was a dress from a charity shop that I ripped up. That pretty pink tulle fabric is um. Something I purchased off Amazon when I wasn’t on Universal Credit, about… a year ago… That little akatako brooch was a free gift.

I know you like my stuff. I invest in stuff that I won’t throw away. Stuff I’ve dreamed of having for YEARS. It helps me cope with a life of abuse, bullying, having everything I wanted stolen from me, having a broken family etc. You can do whatever you like to make my life difficult but I promise that you couldn’t take what I’m going through on a day to day basis. It took a LIFETIME of a SHIT TIME. That you watch in what feels like a second but felt like an eternity to me.

It is GIFT MONEY. Or shall we make it worse for the police?

LETS.

It is “I’m sorry you were abused, I’m sorry your life has been ruined, I’m sorry that we abused you so much that everyone you meet, when you try your fucking hardest to work (have you seen me work? It pisses EVERYONE off. Heavy stuff? I’ll lift it like a guy can. Huge black bags of bottles? I’ll throw them all in the bin at once. Huge metal items? Give me five minutes to run them upstairs. Need me to clean a TOILET? WANT ME TO CLEAN VOMIT? WANT ME TO CLEAN A HUMAN SHIT OFF THE FLOOR? Give me five minutes and a cigarette break.)

There are British people on Universal Credit whose parents buy them food, who have savings (under, I think it is 15k? Or is it 5k? You are allowed upto 5k in your account.). Actually, the gesture of being on Universal Credit is important if you want a job

I SHOULD BE ON DISABILITY BENEFITS BUT  I’D PREFER UNIVERSAL CREDIT BECAUSE IT MEANS I CAN GET A JOB. BUT THE POLICE DON’T WANT ME TO GET A JOB BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING ADDICTED TO ME.

YOU THINK PEOPLE DON’T KNOW – THEY KNOW. (And they’re realising that if you’re doing it to me, you’re doing it to them.)

CONTROLLING PEOPLE BY MAKING THEM THINK THAT THEY’RE PEDOPHILES BY GIVING THEM SEXUAL ENERGY WHEN THEY WATCH ME GETTING ASSRAPED, OR WHEN THEY WATCH ME GETTING BUSY WITH MEDICAL TOYS IN A DISNEY PRINCESS TENT IS NOT GOING TO WORK.

Do you think you’re a pedophile cos watching a hentai scene fucked you up? Did you get an erection? DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT’S OKAY. I AM THE OLDEST SOUL ON THIS PLANET. CHOOSE TO TELL THE TRUTH. I am enabling you. Child me prefers you got an erection. Child me would’ve been quite happy with adult me having lots of hentai memories because I’m eternal in this body. Do not aspire to an eternal attachment to your body. I spent my life wanting to die but being too lazy to bother doing anything about it. I died a thousand times. Death is great.

My brother did not sexually enjoy that rape – he laughed. He’s my favourite for it. The police later copied him when I called them from that psychiatric ward, I got laughed at when I rang 999 and told them I was being hurt. I stared into space and hung up and went back to my room.

Don’t pretend you could cope with that. There are maybe a few people I’ve known/know that could cope with that and WELL. WE MAKE EACH OTHER LAUGH.

NO YOU WERE NOT “THE ONLY ONE.”

Heathinks I should play Jenova. In anycase this is definitely an interiors direction. What that really means is “If you play Aerith you get more screen time than I do. If you play Tifa you will have fan boys and more screen time than I do.” also it means “you will fancy cloud.” (duh) which also means “fine, play the jealousy game but we’re both good at it.”

“you’re going to have to get a boob job at some point”

“im actually okay with the weirdness of the thing but yes you’re right” (telepathically: YOU GET A BOOB JOB HEATH) (“no.”) (“you thought about it”) (“I thought about thinking about it and it wasn’t a good moment”)

“serious compromises”

“not really”

“boundaries that no monopoly card will save you from crossing, they exist”

“not really”

“really”

“okay”

[google credits]

I believe it is the Japanese and the Chinese and the Siamese as portrayed in the King and I who made me feel comfortable putting brooches in my hair.

I bought these brooches immediately after watching a recent video with Louise Pentland and her sibling-daughter Darceshtino shopping in Stamford. It was a cute cobbled villagey street and appeared to be a fantastic preserve for older buildings. They went into a shop and bought brooches, I then popped out and bought myself two, hoping for an exchange of sorts. These are inexpensive items but you can’t find them elsewhere, and if they are desirable they are valuable. I felt Louise’s influence telling me she wanted THESE TWO and I liked the pink teardrop pearls but I didn’t like the sun one, but I changed my mind when it was on. BUT THEY’RE HERS OKAY. For an equal trade.)

I’ll tell you a funny story

When I was younger, I swapped some beanie babies for limited edition McDonalds toys because I really preferred them. Amongst them a tiny elephant.

I got bullied for it by my mother and “sister”, they called me a mug and made fun of me.

Years later I watched a documentary about the elephants that had been affected by Idi Amin’s rule that lived in Victoria Park, which I then visited on Safari in Uganda. The elephants STAMPEDED EN MASSE to my tour bus and we had to go. Until now I know I should’ve got the hell out of that bus to greet them, but they had PTSD. They cried at night for the mothers they watched die, they had to as infants be cuddled by their keepers. They were damaged by that. PTSD is a big deal.

Years later yet, by some coincidence I found the son of a man who owned the company that makes the toys for McDonalds and we spoke a lot online for years. We had a sort of closeness but he lives in the States and I’m VERY upset with him. We had an e-date and we watched Agora. Obviously it was my choice of film.

I said that I didn’t appreciate how educated she had been, and yet that she justified having had slaves. He said “baby steps.”

He showed me photos of his expensive home and told me that he’s both Jewish and AZN.

Years later I got sectioned in part because I told my “sister” about him. THIS IS HE. My “sister” doesn’t know me very well but she knows how to manipulate stories, and she called him “mr mcdonalds”. I give everyone nicknames. That was not a nickname I had given him, my sister is a compulsive liar.

Ian is far wealthier than I am. He is, on paper, apparently worth more than me. I’m royalty though Ian. But it isn’t really money that gives a person their worth, not in my World, that is not how I was raised. I think it offended him that I was unimpressed by anything he had, or his education (he is a university snob) and if he did not have a friend like me, he might not’ve done much with his life, might not have been compelled to search for people worthy of learning something from. Might’ve been quite happy with who he is.

Stamford though: it was, as I’d been told by a landlady, a ‘beautiful’ part of England.

I recalled for a moment all my associations with the word Stamford that deserved some explanation but would’ve been out of place in this piece of work I did.

Well there’s Stamford Brook. I once took an exam there, in what had been a prison for juvenile delinquents turned into a venue for my A-level Philosophy exam.

There’s also the Stanford experiment – which was sort of a psychosocial experiment in which people were given one of two roles in a prison. You were either selected to be a prison guard or you were selected to be a prisoner, and you were put in the setting for a period and forced to live under that dynamic with complete strangers.

The idea was that people, given positions of authority and without consequence would show the predatory nature of human kind. They knew they were being watched and that “nothing” was being done.

The abuse inflicted towards prison guards and prisoners both, was so terrifying that I think they had to terminate the experiment prematurely. I think someone actually died.

If you are not raised for a position of power, by people who have been raised many generations over – you cannot be responsible for it. The ideal person for a position of power is a person who wants nothing to do with it.
If you are a communist, or you are inclined that way as I am – you believe that people of power assume it and then step down but I do not think that humans really understand the nature of our existence to be able to do that.

I know I was raised to do that, but I had to experience a lot to be able to survive my life and I once said that you earth a current of energy to stop it going back and forth. I took and took and took abuses in my life that most people would’ve committed suicide over and I did so with a performance of sorts that made you all think I didn’t really care. The good bit about it was you believed I didn’t really care, the bad bit about it is that you actually believed I didn’t care?

That I had no idea that there was some truth I deserved to hear?

I was taught by a family that had been raised by a judge, that made a final decision for the United Nations. If you want to prove something, if you want to make a judgement in a court of law, you need to be able to prove it without ANY DOUBT.

Hints are not and were not good enough.

If you grew up with a family like mine, you also became accustomed to the habits of liars fast. Latin parents are strict and also, arabs talk to one another pretty abruptly. That is how we communicate. Give me a person, any person, and I will try to match them up in terms of how I speak to them. I’ll attempt to be appropriate.

If you ever had to become accepting of injustices like seeing your elder sibling having a wardrobe that was worth more than your ‘family home’, where you and your ‘mother’ were being given £50 a week (it might’ve been £40 but I prefer to round up.) for food, where your sibling was sent to a boarding school (at her request) and the fees cost about the same as your mother’s mortgage (she had a slight discount because she was offered a scholarship cos they REeeeEEEally wanted her and her weird friends there) and then pretending that any “salary” she had would’ve funded that wardrobe.

My sister has tiny dresses that she never wears, that cost what some people working under minimum wage earn. She got some discounts but she still paid hundreds for many things.

Whenever I complained, growing up, about the injustices of my sibling being given more than me, money to go out, money for clothes – she would screech with her irritating, shrill voice things like “DONT BRING ME INTO IT, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT ABOUT ME, DONT MAKE IT ABOUT ME” with as much vehemence as she’d later in your life scream things like “YOU ARE SO SELF OBSESSED” You really have to hear it to appreciate how embarrassing it is.

But the worst bit is that my ‘dad’ writes like this, the guy that liked to pit us against one another. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He can speak Arabic fluently, French fluently and English fluently. That is more languages than you can speak, isn’t it.

So he’s not a retard.

He pretends to be.

I can navigate liars much better than you can, and what you mistook for naiveté was actually a behaviour you’d be a better person for imitating. The pursuit of truth from all perspectives available, the assumption of INNOCENCE because someone is ‘not guilty’ until they are proven guilty beyond all doubt – because you don’t want to be responsible for imprisoning a person that was innocent, but you also don’t want to be responsible for a dangerous person harming innocent people because you were too lazy to do the fucking work.

There was another experiment like the Stamford experiment, a person would be placed in front of a button and told to press it and that upon doing so they’d hear a person screaming in agony but they were assured there would be no consequence towards the fact. So they did.

To the left is a chrysalis, I imagine, although something in me worries it’s passed but as much as I think so, I also do not. On the right is a magnet (maggot). I did afew things in this little patch, it was cleared of grass because I placed something on top for my spider friends when they lived above that spot and the grass stopped growing because it didn’t get any sun. I took Cici and Nyu (one of the plants had died, I put the remains in my maggot-left-over bin that is also a magnet farm) and one remained alive, I think it was Cici but I also know that they’d of happily shared a body. I planted them beneath the soil. I also put in some tinned tomato left overs in the soil so it makes sense that these two popped out at some point that day.

The cream blob is from a pastry. The magnet to the right tasted the cream, and enjoyed it, but did not consume much. These insects have no greed in them because they have never needed anything, they’ve been given everything they needed and had many options from which to choose.

From an evolutionary perspective I think that having what is needed cultivates an environment that minimises suffering. I asked the magnet “who are you” and with it’s mouth, on the opposite end to it’s eyes, they gestured at me.

These are some white tights I bought from ASOS and I’m quite happy with them.

This is a new plant friend I bought from the local floristress and her daughter, who have many mentions in my blog lately because I’ve invested in plants which make much better companions than human beings.

I sound depressed. I was thinking of Einstein mostly when I annotated this. I’m perhaps a bit melancholic but also I was a goth growing up and that tendency I have to be a little bit morbid and a little bit too thoughtful fosters a kind of observational gift that I’d like to imagine enriches my capacity for storytelling. Another thing: plants have never seemed to be very conversational and one of my talents is actually just speaking. Which again, is ironic, because I spent my life mute or not mute. I used to talk to people all day if I could, during my teens, using MSN. It didn’t matter if they were ‘genuine’ or not or what they might’ve wanted from me, because I was sitting in front of a computer and typing.

I wanted to learn how to touch type because I enjoyed the noise of women’s nails tapping on a keyboard after seeing this beautifully attired receptionist cheerfully humming a lugubrious death-march.

Songs you ought to listen to

Moses was a mute and his brother Aaron translated for him.

I like to think you all understand why arabs and foreigners struggle to find work in your country, it is because you are all racist and because you do not know how to value what other cultures have to teach you, even about yourselves and the religion you claim as your country’s but that could not have existed without Judaism.

Jesus Christ is a JEW.

READ THE FUCKING BIBLE BEFORE YOU CALL YOURSELF BRITISH. READ ONE FUCKING STORY.

My Matty.

You don’t want to hurt vampires, they are MUCH more dangerous without bodies. It would be good if you know the people who make new bodies – but you don’t – so you occupy infants instead. Let my family know when you need us again, I am the head of the family and I will be accepting letters of apology and begging. I know you know my address.

I vampired my flies and my spiders and my rules were pretty clear.

The flies are total show offs though and they do like me to see them.

One of my baes.