These two years of public persecution have left me with a strange view of mortality. Obama the Terrorist has done everything he can think of to throw me away as method to solving his own problems. I have a strange relationship with death, now.
Obama the Dictator has tried torturing me until I would kill myself. He has tried raping me until I would go mad. He tried libeling me until the world would turn on me. Do not let me begin with what he used the speakers in my ear canals to try to hypnotize me into doing.
I was so sure I was going to be killed in that torture facility in Liverpool that I took the flower off my head and mailed it to Sweetness to make sure he would have it when I died.
The things I have faced, the abuse my battered body has endured, and the assaults my incorruptible mind has had to fend off are all things no human should ever have to live through. Defying death so many times has left me with a strange view of mortality.
I have a recurring, once-repressed memory of my time in the hospital in Minnesota two years ago. A man threated me by screaming at me that he could kill me any time he wished. I looked him dead in the face and said, "Just wait and see how many people I can save before you find a way to get away with it." Then they abused me for a long while before injecting me to forget it all ever happened. But a body never forgets... and a mind does reclaim its memories.
It is all coming back to me now because I do not think what I say is going public anymore through the spy equipment still in my head against my will. That feed to the public was all I had for a security system, and we all know Obama the Asshole has no intentions of keeping me physically safe. He is, in fact, the one who has been commanding the attempts on my life for years.
Yes, I want my privacy. But when my only source of any physical safety was removed, it should have been replaced by people tasked with keeping me safe. Obama the Terrorist has been trying to kill me for two years to solve his own problems, and I do not think he is about to stop just because I have called him out.
Yes, I still sleep with my computer staring at me, so benevolent hackers can watch over me. And yes, it was when I slept that was so constantly attacked. Do you not remember all those nights when my body used to refuse to let me sleep? I was always drugged to forget every attack, but as I said, a body never forgets. For months, when I would doze off I would seize as my body would do everything it could to keep me awake to prevent getting abused again.
Did you not think it was weird that they put cameras in my home and hotel rooms to broadcast me against my will, but the cameras never showed them raping me in my sleep? You, my beautiful world, have seen all the bruises. You have all seen me pace and seize in the night.
Obama the Oppressor is one of the terrorists keeping this country stunted and controlled because he does not want to get caught. Once he was done using me, he started the campaign to kill me through whatever way would not point to him.
As I said, he has tried torturing me until I would kill myself. He has tried raping me until I would go mad. He tried libeling me until the world would turn on me. He has tried controlling me through the chips he put in my head. He wants me dead without it pointing to him.
This country stays oppressed because Obama the Dictator wants a way out without getting caught. He believes he is above the law. He believes that he can get away with anything. But there is an authority in this nation that is higher than the US president...
Stand up, people. Do not let Obama the Oppressor get away with this any longer. Demand your Constitutional rights. Refuse to comply with his illegal rules. Write to your Congresswomen and Congressmen and tell them to impeach him for his crimes.
It was his job to keep me safe through all of this, but he has enforced that I must be publicly persecuted, instead. Obama the Sociopath commands that I must be attacked with no recourse for safety. America, you need to make sure he gets prosecuted.
Sweetness, my latest letter should reach you tomorrow or Thursday. Will this weekend never come?
P.S. It is completely unrelated, but I promised I would share this.