Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Paradox of the Hotel Gillow in Mexico City Refusing to Give me Mail and Complaining that I am Still There

So, I woke up today, changed my clothes, and took the elevator to the lobby. I checked the time on their time clock. Looking at the front desk it is the electronic contraption to the right with the time always displayed on it. They clock in and out with the fingerprint pad on the device. I thought it was a thermostat the first time I saw it. Before walking away, I noticed the same people were at breakfast that I always see there. Sometimes, though, the very noticable outfits that they wear are on different people. This is all as if they did not yet know that I never forget a face. (I also always remember a person´s height, build, mannerisms, and the shape of that person´s ears... I have a severe case of OCD; it manifests this way and in my adherence to rules of grammar, among other things.)

Well, on the way out, the hotel staff at the front desk who clearly have never been trained on how to run a hotel asked me for a deposit on my account. I left a deposit and my card number at check in, and the man with which I spoke at check in assured me that, as is normal hotel policy, I would not be expected to pay teh rest of my bill until check out. Now, here is the funny thing about checking out of this metaphorical Hotel California, if they had ever even attempted to give me a phone message, a written message, or a piece of mail intended for me, I would NOT still be staying at that hotel anymore anyway. They have made it clear they are the ones making sure no one can contact me there, so that I am incapable of leaving at all.

When I gave them a list of people from which I had been expecting mail all along, they told me that the hotel was run by a different set of people than my embassy. What an odd statement! I had no idea that embassies were in the habit of running mid-grade boutique hotels with highly secure fingpad driven identification systems in their lobbies in the first place. Not to mention, the lady at the front desk has very similar to a voice I frequently hear coming from the room next door, room #403. She has a very distict way of sounding freaked out. Another woman's voice I hear from that room is very similar to the woman's voice I used to hear coming from the basement below the house my older sister rents in Los Angeles while I was her housesitter over the holidays. I have never understood why the mundanities of my life would be of interest to anybody in the first place, but the activities of room #403 and #504 are probably why I always feel too self-conscious to shower or even change my clothes while in my room at all.

The only things of value in my room that they could possibly think of stealing from me at all (in a childish tantrum after being scolded by me for unprofessionalism) would be my vintage Kermit doll and my self-illustrated translation of the poetry of Sappho. Then again, if they were to take anything, I know it is the easily identifiable front desk staff who would have taken it. My housekeeper has proven to be more than reliable and trustworthy. If the person who is my housekeeper changes after I say this, it is an extra sign of guilt by the managerial staff there. And, of course, I would hate to see what would happen as a backlash against them if my Kermit doll or academic books were mishandled by them in anyway at all.

Furthermore, I gave them express permission to contact my embassy about this if they felt like it... I wonder which embassy they believe is the embassy of my home country. They are clearly clueless on who I am despite insisting on watching me against my will the entire time I am in my hotel room and openly lying about any activites of mine after the fact. Seriously? Who would want to admit to having watched me in the privacy of my own room to begin with? Even if it were just an effort to tell intentional untruths about what I do in there?

When the people of Mexico stop shaming themselves openly by listening to the lies propogated about me by a certain subset of the US executive branch and begin to treat me, bare minimum, with the basic respect that any human is due, I will finally have physical safety in this country. I have already openly and clearly said that NO PEOPLE have EVER had any permission to watch me in the privacy of my own home. This has not changed.

Also, I bought some very nices dresses for myself while I have been here in Mexico City, but again, every time I wake from a siesta in the Hotel Gillow there are new syringe scars on my arms. Now, again, I am too filled with illicit substances against my will for the dresses I just bought two days ago to fit me anymore. I have already become bloated from all of the drugs they inject me with there against my will while I sleep and all of the illicit substances put in my food and drink when I am in public. Please see my later note about the bottled water put in this city by the Nestle Corporation.

Most of the Mexican citizens I have met have held to an honest and sincere desire for me to stay here in Mexico City and genuine concern for my well-being; although, they refuse to speak to me about anything to learn who my actually enemies attacking me and spreading lies about me might be and what might actually be in my best interest. For example, everyone kept showing concerns that I was constantly trying to locate the Nigerian Embassy here in Mexico... not that I actually thought there might be one. Clearly, if anyone would have bothered to talk to me about it in the first place, they would have learned that I have a VERY good friend from the country of Nigeria I have been trying to contact through her father, the Minister of Foreign Relations for the country. If anyone would have spoken to me about it at all in the first place, that person would have also learned that not only are the Nigerian people as dear to me as the Mexican people, but that the US government likes to pretend I have enemies that I do not actually have.

I have it on good authority and personal experience that their latest attempt to pretend I have an enemy was by offending the Italian population here in Mexico City. Seriously? I have lived in the Italian neighborhood of San Francisco for years. My neighborhood there has been dear and precious to me for my entire residency in the state of California. When the Italian ambassador to Mexico herself spoke with me on the telephone while she was pretending to be merely an employee of the Italian embassy, my one mistake was not spelling out that she was behaving like an employee of the Ipercoop in Tuscany... Then again, I would hate to insult the Ipercoop in that manner. Who listens to propogated lies told about me by the certain subset of the US executive branch in the first place? Haven't you learned your lesson by now?

Don't worry, it is neither the CIA nor the State Department of the US that has the mislaid and idiotic notion that they could ever convince the public of this planet of any of these things in the first place. Why anybody listens to anything said about me that does not come from my actual moving lips, my actual pen, or my actual blog baffles me completely at this point. Yes, there are many reliable sources on who I am, but clearly you are having problems figuring this out on your own and are attacking me pointlessly because of it. Here is some unsolicted advice on how to tell if what you hear about me is true or not: If it does not inlcude the truths that I am a very private, peaceful, intelligent, law-abiding, and genuinely endearing lady, then you are obviously being lied to. You should all know better by now.

My feelings on my own embassy include confusion why they lie to me myself to my face while refusing to acknowledge who I really am in this world, but I know that the real problem and the place from which it originated is not their mess to clean up. The truly vile and obviously idiotic forces that think they could convince anybody who looks at me in a public place with their own real eyes that I am anything but a genuinely kind and well-meaning woman are the same ones who somehow convinced the bottling plants for the US companies of Coca-Cola and Nestle here in Mexico City to contaminate all of the bottled water sold here. Just to make it clear, those US companies have more to fear from their own Mexican employees than they do from me. The Mexican people working in those bottling plants should be able to be trusted to fix this problem themselves. How are the people in this city supposed to keep hydrated at all?

It is because of how much I trust the Mexican people themselves that I sleep with my double windows completely open every night and that I want a permanent home here in the city that I can visit anytime I wish. I know what I am in this world and what I mean to people all over this planet. I know this means I cannot stay here comfortably and peacefully the rest of my life, as much as I would like to. I know I will have to leave; please trust I will come back. You should be able to trust me as much as I trust you... It would help if you would just speak to me instead of helping repeat lies about me.

As for the rest of my day, I plan to buy some hosiery and finally find a place to go dancing. I understand that the people around here are so thoroughly lied to that they do not allow me into bars where live musicians play due to some other illogical set of lies that could easily be cleared up if anybody were willing to speak to me at all. Yes, I know that a certain subset of the US executive branch is commanding the Mexican people to poison me at every turn. I know this because both my coffee and my orange juice here at the internet cafe have substances in them already that even the employees wish they could apologize for. And still, why Mexican people would listen to the US government at all is beyond me. But, I do sincerely hope to hear some live local music at some point. There are so many things here in La Ciudad that cannot be found anywhere else. These are things I am looking for while here.

I will be at the US embassy at 3PM, like I promised, to continue to attempt to make local phone calls. Every electronic object within the range of the equipment inserted into my body against my will does not work properly when near me. This includes but is not limited to computers and telephones. This is why I cannot communicate with any of my friends anywhere on this planet. Someday when doctors are finally allowed to acknowledge that all of the electronics put my body against my will are actually there, I will finally be able to have them all removed.

Until that day, which would be the beginning of my finally being allowed to go about this planet freely doing good things, and we know how many people need me to be able to do that, I have no choice but to fight through the methods in which I am expert the people insistent on attacking innocents around me in an openly immoral attempt to control me. They already know I am too morally good to be controlled by them directly. We are all baffled why they have not given up yet... I wonder what drives them so hard not to just admit the things they are already guilty of and just stop being idiots in the eyes of the world all of the time. For some reason, something drives them to just break more laws and make more witnesses of it all over this planet. What is it about me that makes the evil of this world fight so hard to make someone else appear guilty on their behalf? We already know who my real enemies are. And we all know that the certain subset of the US executive branch irrationally attacking me is the only entity that will and can be held responsible for all of this anyway, no matter what has happened or even will happen.

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