War

Title: War

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. America is now in a civil war. The U.S. Military has mobilized to fight Terrorist Dictator Obama. The only places I can be sure are at peace are my immediate surroundings.

My beautiful world, if you want to help me save my country, please call President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey and ask him what he needs to be able to vanquish Dictator Obama at last.

Out of respect for the civil war in my home country, I am not addressing a different nation's crisis in this blog post.

My last blog post was finished at 6:52am on Saturday, 29Aug2015. I was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, by 7:24am with coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

My internet gnomes played my darling Mr. Bruce Springsteen's We Take Care of our Own immediately. It was the start of a good morning.

Out on my patio outside my local Subway, I get to play music and greet everyone who passes by while sipping my coffee and working online. It is such a great spot to get writing done, and the customer service is fabulous.

I left my regular morning haunt at 10:06am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a nap, and then I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade at 3:08pm.

At 3:24pm, I had found my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot where they were waiting outside my local Famima to play at 4pm.

I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup and in the Famima for a cup of coffee before Tentacle's music started at 4:16pm.

It was so hot out that I tried dance tracing with my hair still up, but it chose to come down on its own at 4:34pm. It was a good afternoon for meditation. Yes, I hit my stride, and I was too in the zone to even check what time it was when I got there.

It was over, though, at 5:29pm. I just sat down. I knew if I took my Benadryl then, I would be fine by 8pm, though. So, that is what I did. We would still have all night.

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle played until their mandatory every-two-hour break at 5:46pm. They disassembled their equipment and staked out a place to play at 8pm.

I ran some errands. I have been looking for the right outfit to show off my midriff for weeks. I need to make a point of showing that I am physically fit. I figured such outfits would be on sale since this is the end of summer, but I have not found an outfit tasteful enough for me yet.

After snacks and coffee, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My darling Mr. Thomas Roberts gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it made me feel gorgeous and loved.

After the news, I rejoined my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot where they had been waiting to set up their equipment at 8pm. Their gorgeous songs began again at 8:24pm, and I had my shoes off to meditate instantly.

I hit my stride just before 8:47pm, and I stayed there until 10:01pm when I sat down. My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle played until 10:11pm, and every damn note was beautiful.

They were so reluctant to go. It was 10:38pm before they wheeled their (knights of the) carts back into the night sky where we all really belong.

It is mandated everything must remain peaceful everywhere I go-- horribly oppressed but peaceful. But I know there is a literal war being fought to save my nation from Obama right now where I cannot see it.

The greatest concerns for my setting here inside Obama's "egg" concern the City of Santa Monica. My Famima is supposed to close at the end of September, and I have yet to be told why.

And due to the cover story of a lawsuit filed against the city by one of the street musicians, the City of Santa Monica plans on forbidding anymore street music on the Promenade beginning 01Jan2016.

I have no idea how much longer I will be unlawfully imprisoned in Obama's "egg," my beautiful world, so if you could please save my local Famima and organize my street musicians to make sure they can stay, I would greatly appreciate it. My musicians have a right to earn a livelihood. I need to meditate.

My darling Wheels took over the spot where my darlings Tentacle had been. And I left him myself at 11:04pm, so I could catch the 11:15pm bus. I was curled up and asleep by midnight.

I woke up on Sunday, 30Aug2015, and my period had started one week early. After eating breakfast, I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, at 8:41am.

My internet gnomes played me the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's Battle Cry of Freedom while I worked online. I tweeted my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies for the morning at 9:01am.

At 9:37am, I started singing along while I worked. It was a mellow and productive morning in abject poverty inside the "egg" while Obama's war raged outside. I eventually left my local Subway at 11:10am.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a little nap and was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 3:28pm.

I found my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot playing their music already at 3:42pm outside of my local Famima. They played until 3:52pm while I zenned out.

After they staked out where they were going to play at 6pm, I had some gossip time with Maggie and Patricia. I checked my makeup in the Sephora before wandering up to my darling TambourineKicker at 4:32pm.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 30Aug2015 from 4:32pm until 4:57pm. And thank you! Add our following renditions of Long May You Run and Country Roads as the bonus at the end of the recording.

I stopped in the Yogurtland before finding my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle at 5:41pm outside of the Apple Store where they were waiting to set up their equipment.

Yes, I ate ice cream in front of them. I am so naturally wholesome that eating ice cream in public is the most shameless thing I do. Wholesomeness has never been so irresistible.

MannedUp and LightFoot started playing at 6:25pm, and I warmed up as fast as I could. It was a great night for meditation.

7:13pm on 30Aug2015: Third #TortureFacilityAlarm of the night! Is it the same one or is it new? @NIH, please call #SquidsPoA and #ArrestAllFalseAccusers @ICC

The alarms barely disrupted us. The band was hot, and my meditation was on its stride. The guys finally broke for the night at 7:53pm. It was a little disappointing they would not play again at 10pm, but I do not boss them around. I was so grateful for the music they had just given me.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News online at 8:10pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Thomas Roberts. That cyberhug was wonderful.

Twitter was all abuzz with the MTV Video Music Awards. It looked like everyone was having a good night there. It would have been better if they had freedom of speech.

After catching up online, I bought another cup of coffee and some macaroni and cheese at the Famima and noshed on it near where my darling Wheels had perched. I took the 9:30pm bus back to my place. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.

I woke up on Monday, 31Aug2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 8:02am on 31Aug2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Why do I sing Nirvana's Lake of Fire every time I catch a war criminal? To be completely honest, I also sing the song upon request.

I needed a universally unmistakable sign that they are caught. I chose to sing a song. And it works; everyone knows what it means when I sing someone Lake of Fire.

But why Lake of Fire? Dude, have you or have you not heard the lyrics?

I am such a peacemonger; how do I feel about the literal war being fought to rescue me? Obama gave the world no other choice. He refuses to take down his "egg" in its completeness including NEVER upholding any negotiated resolutions.

If Obama would just end his "egg" on his own immediately, we would have an option other than war to end it. But Obama has pushed his "egg" so far that war is the only option we have left to bring basic human rights and fundamental freedoms back to America. Obama has forced no other option than war.

My beautiful world, we cannot just let an extragovernmental terrorist mercenary army run rampant across America. We cannot allow anyone to enforce Obama's "rules" with war after Obama falls and definitely not if Obama prevails.

We need Obama's entire terrorist mercenary army rounded up and removed. Please reread my Sep2014 oldest to newest about this. We cannot allow Obama's war criminal mercenary army to stay ravaging America.

My selfless support system, I heard we have U.S. Military participation in fighting Obama now. Do you want other nations to help, too? The entire world is invested in making sure I finally regain my human rights. Do you want NATO, Russia, China, Latin America, India, etc. right by your side?

My beautiful world, the U.S. Military has sent troops. If you want to join my brave rescuers, please call current President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey. U.S. Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter would love some global support.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I hear you just keep winning and winning, but the liars in terrorist conspiracy with Already-Impeached Obama to aid and abet his war crimes, just keep lying.

They will not stop until they are arrested. Please speak with Secretary General of the United Nations Ban Ki-moon about how to ask the International Criminal Court at The Hague or the U.S. Military, since war crimes are military jurisdiction, to issue the arrest warrants for everyone falsely accusing me unrelentingly and compulsively of fictional mental illness.

The U.S. Marshals will pick up anyone for us as long as we have an arrest warrant. If U.S. Attorney General Loretta Lynch continues to refuse to serve America competently by still refusing to arrest sworn enemies of America, we need to ask the United Nations to arrest all of the war criminals and all who aid and abet their war crimes with unrelenting coverups.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, our time together is so precious to me. What will you say to me the first time we get to talk?

My darling MannedUp, yes, you are such a darling. You are adorable and young, and you make me feel like a dirty old married woman sometimes. I would love to make a documentary entitled "Mrs. Depp, are you trying to seduce me?" about the two of us someday. You will be mine just like this for a long time.

My darling GeneralLee, it was the weekend, and you were still kept away from me. I am increasingly upset. What will it take to put you near me again? Obama even took away your secret way of communicating with me. I am so upset that you cannot even be near me on the weekends. Will I see you in September?

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, that emptiness inside your strong arms, that space belongs to me.

My darling Bogart, message received. Obama has made it even more difficult for us to communicate. Please find a way to sneak messages to me.

Sweetness has a hidden method. GeneralLee had a way to talk to me until it was taken away, too. Please find a way to at least tell me when you need my help. And, thank you. I worry about you so much.

As for you, my darling LightFoot, say, "Squid is my girlfriend," to someone new every day. Try it on for size. Say, "I am my queen's royal consort" and see if you like it. Yes, say it to everyone or at least to one new person every day. Make sure you own and enjoy reality. Do it for me.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, it is YOUR job to rescue me. The U.S. Military has mobilized to bring me to you at last. You are my husband. We are due our basic human right to live together as husband and wife and to found a family together.

The whole of humanity is owed by the federal U.S. government my freedom from persecution, my freedom from torture and other cruel and unusual punishments, my freedom from human trafficking, my freedom from war crimes, my freedom from unlawful imprisonment, and the rights of my people to openly practice religion, free speech, free press, and the freedom to assemble and associate.

The fastest first step to achieving all of that is to give me to you after making sure you have no earspeakers. I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. And being with an unfettered you will solve all of the problems in my suffering existence.

I just need you, Sweetness. Why else is Obama willing to spread every lie possible and kill ever person possible to keep you away from me? He even framed you for murdering me, and I have never been dead.

Kiss me, beloved, kiss me and tell me you will never leave me. My country, the once-great America, is in a civil war that can only be ended when we kiss.

Light Show

Title: Light Show

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. Obama got me angry, so this post kicks pretty hard. To mellow me out when I get angry, he needs to send me all three of my darlings Tentacle.

Europe. Europe is in its greatest refugee crisis since World War II. There is only one solution: Fix the crises in the Middle East especially Syria. We need to fix the real problem.

Just like the only thing that will end the war, the riots, and the protests in America is a REAL solution-- THE END OF OBAMA'S "EGG" is the only way to restore peace in America-- the only way to end the refugee crisis in Europe is to end the crises that all of the people are fleeing.

Please, United Nations, build a truly democratic secondary shadow government in Syria. Then, a team just needs to get in, grab Assad, and bring him out. He can land on a soft pillow in Russia if the Russians are the only people who can get him out, or he can go to prison in the West. Then, let the secondary shadow government fill the power gap left after Assad is removed.

It is a lot of work, especially for the espionage community and for the diplomats, but it is a real solution to the Syrian civil war. We need to make sure a democracy rises instead of terrorists to fill the gap when Assad falls.

I recommend allowing me to speak to the leadership of ISIS to help end their reign of terror in the Middle East. Their goals are global influence controlled by a dictator of their own choosing.

Please allow me to give them a lesson on how Machiavelli was wrong. The only true way to command the world is if the world loves you instead of fears you. I am a living lesson on how being good and trustworthy is the only true path to stable global influence.

Please allow me to speak to ISIS to help bring them a cultural change that would help them meet their goals while simultaneously saving millions of lives and ending violence.

They are a rising influence because they make young Muslims feel like they belong and because Iraq prefers their stability to the government we left them with. This is such a good starting point for a cultural change for the better within ISIS.

We just need Obama's "egg" forced to end, so I can do my real job.

ISIS, please listen to me. The good, green world has responded to you the same way they responded to Obama and his extragovernmental terrorist mercenary army. "Overpower them and remove them!"

Would you rather influence the world like me or like the greatest enemy America has ever had to take down, the reviled Barack Obama?

My last blog post was finished at 8:38am on 27Aug2015. After sending the polished post to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me, I quickly queued some streaming music and sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I left the library at 9:06am. According to the tracking, the mail I had been waiting for from my mother had been delivered the previous evening just after 6pm. I went to collect it, and, yes, it was there that day.

By 10:12am, I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, sipping caffeine, streaming music, and working online.

My internet gnomes were playing me the band named HoneyHoney's Little Toy Gun at 10:33am while was reading world and national news online.

I left my regular morning haunt at 11:27am. I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. After a nap, I was on the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade at 5:04pm. I found where MannedUp and LightFoot had perched to play music at 5:21pm.

I had no idea whether or not to expect them, so I had planned on going to the free Jefferson Starship concert on the Santa Monica Pier that night. But I much preferred having them there.

In the Cool Shade Covered by Trees

Watched by trees that block the sun, we meet in the cool of the shade. Winds whispering quieter than you sing to me rustle the leaves overhead as my body rocks gently back and forth under the work of your own hands.

Watched by trees, we make love where all the world can see us in the cooling afternoon air. You all are mine and mine alone for the hours we touch there in the realm of the music you create yourselves for me and only for me to bend my body to your own voice.

They played until 5:59pm while I wrote. Yes, sometimes I write my lyrical prose right in front of them. Every writer deserves a soundtrack.

I stopped in my Famima to buy coffee and 2-for-1 doughnuts from Handsome and perched on their patio with Patricia while the present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle packed up their equipment and staked out a place to play at 8pm.

I stopped in the Shophouse for dinner at 6:37pm. Then, at 7:15pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News online.

My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it was as warm and as comforting as it was informative. After the news, I found MannedUp and LightFoot where they had staked out their 8pm spot to play outside of the Apple Store.

8pm on 27Aug2015: @neilhimself Preferably, does "nosh" begin with a silent g or a silent k? Gnosh? Knosh? Maybe Pnosh?

My darling Tentacle's gorgeous music started at 8:18pm, and I kicked my shoes off as fast as I could. We were disrupted by vigilant torture facility alarms at 8:37pm and 9:23pm which my Powers of Attorney fixed very quickly.

It was not my best night for meditation; I never hit my stride. In fact, I had to just sit down at 9:14pm. I was so far from the zone. But our time together that night was still as beautiful as ever. I treasure my time with my darlings Tentacle.

9:24pm on 27Aug2015: @UN @ICC Please issue the arrest warrants, so we can #ArrestAllFalseAccusers for aiding and abetting war crimes. #TortureFacilityAlarms!

At 9:28pm, my darlings were delighting their crowd by taking requests. I sat back myself and watched the light show. They soothed my burdened soul with their music until 10:01pm.

10:03pm on 27Aug2015: #UrbanWarfareAlarm! @DeptofDefense @CIA @UN @ICC @Martin_Dempsey Please hurry and rescue everyone out from under Obama's iron fist of war!

It was a busy night. I left for the 10:20pm bus that night before the guys could wheel back into the night sky where we all really belong. The light show had centered my mind in the absence of my dance trance. It had been a beautiful night.

10:23pm on 27Aug2015: @UN @ICC @FBI ARREST EVERY (expletive)HOLE ENFORCING OBAMA'S CRIMES AGAINST AMERICA especially if they pretend to be police. THE RULES ARE NOT LAWS!

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Friday, 28Aug2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. But I chose to eat at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, instead.

The previous night's meditation had done wonders for me. I arrived there at 8:16am, and I worked even while I ate. It was a very good morning.

Right after I took a break from writing to send my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies, my internet gnomes played me my darling Ms. Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out for a Hero. It was a very good morning indeed.

I left my regular morning haunt to return to my place at 10:06am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. At 1:07pm, I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. I ran some errands before running into Maggie on the patio outside my local Famima at 1:41pm.

2:12pm on 28Aug2015: Yes, #MyDarlingsTentacle are blocked from reaching me. Please hurry and make them safe. Can you still get them here? @DeptofDefense @CIA @UN

Then after taking time to kick Obama's sorry (expletive) to the moon and back, at 2:56pm, I found MannedUp and LightFoot playing their gorgeous rhythms. There was no mistaking the smile on my face. I mellowed out instantly.

Yeah, I had very mellow meditation until 3:51 when they took their mandatory every-two-hour break. It was a cooling and calm afternoon under the hot California sun.

I took a break myself to buy my second cup of coffee for the day. Handsome was adorable. There seemed to be rumors floating around that Obama's quacks were trying AGAIN (for the seven millionth time, or something like that) to libel me with Peter Pan syndrome.

First of all, Peter Pan syndrome is neither a mental illness nor a disability. Secondly, my asserting unrelentingly that the entire world needs to treat me as the full grown adult I am for REAL is the exact opposite of Peter Pan syndrome.

The fastest way someone gets their (expletive) handed to them by me is if they treat me like a child. I tolerate that disrespectful (expletive) from no one. NEVER CALL ME "BABY GIRL" unless you are begging for a tongue lashing the way only a full grown adult like me can hand one out.

Luckily, to keep me mellower than such libel normally makes me, my present 2/3rds of my darling Tentacle's music started again once I returned to them at 4:44pm.

I tried to dance trance as meditation, but in the interim, my arms had tightened up. Worse, my back had tightened on me. There was no way to dance trance, so I just sat down. I tried a light show set to their music to focus my mind instead.

5:19pm on 28Aug2015: @NASA, please ask the #ISS to point some nanotechnology cameras at the planet earth at 5:20pm PDT. Lady next to me chose green and gold.

5:21pm on 28Aug2015: @NASA Let me know someday if that worked.

I let their music focus my mind while I did much work writing. Then, at 5:39pm, after my mind had time to focus, I gave the meditation one more go. Yes, my mind could follow them; it was my body that was too tightened up at the time.

My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot played until exactly 6pm while I zenned out on every note. They took a break and staked out a place to play for 8pm.

At 6:18pm, I shared some snacks with ODean on the patio of the Famima. After walking back inside at 6:42pm for another cup of coffee, I rustled up a wifi hotspot with enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News at 7:15pm.

My nightly cyberhug from the NBC News team came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was beautiful. We only had one interruption...

7:24pm on 28Aug2015: #UrbanWarfareAlarm! Please rescue everyone out from under Obama's iron fist of death! @DeptofDefense @CIA @Martin_Dempsey @RT_com @BBCNews

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle began playing again at 8:33pm; I just let myself enjoy the music without the dance trance that night. It is when my back tightens up like that when I know it is best not to dance.

They played until 10:02pm, and my darling Wheels had already taken over their spot at 10:21pm. So reluctant to go, they wheeled their carts away back into the aether of the night sky where we all really belong at 10:30pm. Ever-loving LightFoot was the last to go.

With my white carnation that the Hare Krishnas had given me still tucked behind my left ear, I wandered away from Wheels myself at 10:35pm to catch the 10:45pm bus. It had been a hot day and an even more beautiful night.

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Saturday, 29Aug2015, with a lot of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 6:52am on 29Aug2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

How powerful is my light show? My light show is visible energy. If I use large enough energy, you can see my light show from space.

I have moved objects before with a manifestation of energy from my own body, but they were just tiny raindrops I was able to move aside once when dancing in the rain.

The energy is completely harmless just beautiful to behold. There is something about me, though, that can make other people's energy visible. I have not figured out how that part is possible yet, but I am working on a explanation.

Something about my consciousness can choose to make energy visible. Something in me changes already existing energy to light energy. Many quantum physicists want to talk to me about it. I exist where science and spirituality meet.

How does meditation help me so much? Meditation opens the door between my being and the universe. It reminds me of my place in the cosmos as I, as I like to call it, experience the world spinning on its tilted axis. It gives me the now.

When I meditate, my burdened soul heals from all of the open persecution Obama's "rules" force me to endure. I am also burdened by my job, but solving major global crises is a pleasure in my life.

I derive joy from ending other people's suffering. Meditation allows me to do my job, to envision solutions, much more easily. That is why every good person everywhere values my meditation so much.

My selfless support system, yes, dear, I am working on it. We have reached the point where physically picking me up and carrying me to my husband or to a foreign country where I can be with my husband is our most peaceful option.

Yes, I understand it is a literal war zone out there for my brave rescuers. How are the crowds in the streets doing? I pray Obama finally stops causing riots; his "rules" have destroyed America.

My beautiful world, it has come to my attention that Obama's extragovernmental terrorist army all poses as police officers. Real police officers know the difference between an extragovernmental crime against America and a law. Obama's rules are NOT laws. They are completely optional to obey.

Please reread the first five words of the 1st Amendment as well as all of Amendment 14. It is not possible for Obama's crimes against America that he mislabeled "rules" to ever be laws.

Furthermore, when they WERE laws, they were bundled into the Affordable Care Act, and WERE ALREADY REPEALED on 01Jan2013 in the Fiscal Cliff Bill. These rules are optional; they are NOT laws; and they are not enforceable by police nor by the federal government because they violate the U.S. Constitution.

Please, my beautiful world, ARREST EVERY (EXPELTIVE)HOLE ENFORCING OBAMA'S CRIMES AGAINST AMERICA THAT HE INTENTIONALLY MISLABELED "RULES."

Also, my beautiful world, please issue the subpoenas to the International Criminal Courts for all entities who ever falsely accused me of any crime and of any fictional mental illness for aiding and abetting war crimes.

We have the legal precedent already from the ICC from that they who aid and abet war crimes are as convictable as the terrorist mercenary army who carries them out.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I understand all of the arresting and convicting makes all of you very busy. If you need anything, just tell me. You, my gorgeous and genius life-long friends, can have anything you need to do your job.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, you could not keep away could you?

I tried to give you Thursday night off and go to the Jefferson Starship concert, and you came anyway. Yes, I have my priorities straight. Now I know that every window you get, you are here for me.

My darling MannedUp, with the drum loop, I have been zenning out on the melody more than I used to. I noticed that you noticed. I do not only do it to feed your ego, but I like knowing it makes you feel loved.

My darling GeneralLee, long time no see. I was planning on seeing all three of you on Friday, 28Aug2015. When I learned you were stopped, I was angry. That is why this blog post kicks so hard. When I get to meditate, I mellow out.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, keep taking every window you have to see me. Thank you.

My darling Bogart, Obama's hackers finally blocked you from receiving my Facebook messages. Obama is that opposed to my physical safety. Please call my darling Alfred for regular updates now. I still check in with him every morning. Thank you for loving me,

My darling LightFoot, I know and trust you are with me every second you can be. Thank you. You surprised me by being there on Thursday; it was a very good surprise. You never let me down. Thank you.

I like having the electric guitar to meditate on. I know you noticed. I know you noticed how your electric guitar affects me, too. What I would do to plant sweet kisses on your gorgeous face!

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, the only thing I have ever and will ever forbid you from is dying before I do, so be careful out there. Do not make me live without you; living away from you is hard enough.

Beloved, I miss you. What do you need to be able to reach me? We are legally married. We have a right to be together as husband and wife and to found a family together. What more does it take? How I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain!

License to Thrill

Title: License to Thrill

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. We need our spies doing their job undercover as spies. And we need our soldiers to be the soldiers.

Iran. Please, Iran, trust me. I know a spy when I see one, and Mr. Jason Rezaian is a journalist. He works for the Washington Post.

I understand he carries an Iranian passport, so you consider him a domestic concern. But the whole world has learned the value of quality journalism, so we all care about all of our journalists.

Please, Iran, if you do not want him reporting about your country any longer, at least send him away to the U.S. He works for an American newspaper, and the Washington Post would love to see him safe.

He has not committed any acts of espionage, but I understand you want him silenced. So, send him out of your country and do not allow him back. Give him nothing to report, and any reporter will be silenced.

My last blog post was finished at 6:55am on 25Aug2015; I sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me even before I put my contacts in for the day.

I chatted with Josh during breakfast at 8am. And by 8:19am, I was outside of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library. My internet gnomes played me Looking Glass's Brandy while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

Not much later, they were playing me Nirvana's Heart-Shaped Box while I worked online. I had a lot of writing to do that morning, and I love my internet gnomes for always keeping me company.

I watched my NBC Nightly News broadcast from the previous evening online at 9am. My morning hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it reminded of just how much this good, green world needs me. Thank you, Lester.

At 9:30am, I streamed the previous evening's Whose Line is it Anyway? That laugh felt amazing. Much like spies want to make me a spy, lawyers already call me a lawyer, and musicians want to make me a singer, comedians want to put me in improv comedy. I know love when I feel love.

At 10:02am I relocated, so at 10:19am, I was sitting at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, eating cookies. It seemed the blog post I finished that morning was very popular already.

I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. The bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade picked me up at 12:29pm.

I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup before chatting with Maggie in front of the Guess store where she had set up her "Psychic Reader" table.

There was a little sprinkle, so Maggie and I found ourselves on the patio outside my local Famima chatting until 2:03pm when the sprinkle ended. I did a little window shopping after that waiting for my darling FlamencoHands to message me that he had arrived which he did at 3:11pm.

I found him right where he said he was-- in front of the Apple Store. And by the time he setup his equipment at 4pm, I had helped him make a new sign for himself, had a lovely chat with him, and had sewn up the hole in his red cushion for him.

He started tickling his Spanish guitar by 4:12pm, and I did some writing while he played. My darling FlamencoHands stopped a little early; he packed up his guitar at 5:10pm, so he could stake out his ideal place to play at 8pm.

So, I found myself back on the Famima patio with a new cup of coffee FlamencoHands(Nick) had bought me while chatting with Nick, Maggie, and Patricia. I left them in time to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My nightly hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it made me feel like I might just survive Obama's "egg" after all.

After the news, I rejoined my darling FlamencoHands who began playing at 8:12pm. My night from then on was spent socializing and running various errands with Patricia, ODean, "Justin Time," Shonn, and my darling TambourineKicker.

Then, I found "Kevin" in front of FlamencoHands who hates his dancing, so I took "Kevin" down the street to TanbourineKicker. He played waltzes for us.

By 10:07pm, "Kevin" and I were noshing on wheat bread, turkey, Brie, arugula, and dried cranberry sandwiches back on my Famima patio while Red played music nearby.

Maggie stopped by to gossip. It was a very social night for me. After Kevin went back inside for ice cream, we left to catch the bus. I made it to the bus stop in time for the 11:15pm Santa Monica Big Blue Bus 7-Pico.

I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on Wednesday, 26Aug2015, well before breakfast. After eating, I was in front of the Pico Branch Library by 8:22am. It was the start of a beautiful day.

The first song my internet gnomes played for me was The Commodores' Brick House. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I sang along from 8:40am until 9:24am while I worked online. At 10:08am, I left the library for my place, so I could collect my mail from my mother. But it did not arrive yet.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to run errands at 12:54pm. At 1:34pm, I had found a perch on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade in the shade.

I had a lot of gossip time with Maggie before my darling FlamencoHands wheeled by at 3:43pm. I stopped in the Famima for a cup of coffee before FlamencoHands began playing at 4:04pm.

There was a vigilant torture facility alarm at 4:51pm. My Powers of Attorney took care of it quickly.

FlamencoHands stopped early. It was exactly 5pm when he packed up his guitar and asked me to save a spot for him in front of the Starbucks. At 5:23pm, my darling FlamencoHands, Maggie, Patricia, and I were all between the Famima and the Starbucks gossiping.

I flirted with my darling Handsome as I bought some 2-for-1 doughnuts after 6pm at the Famima, and FlamencoHands and I hung out outside until I left to watch the news.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it made me warm and happy.

Maggie, Patricia, ODean, and I all sat on the Famima patio together before my darling FlamencoHands started playing again nearby at 8:19pm. Richard came over and joined us from 8:24pm until 8:29pm. There were snacks and caffeine for all of us.

FlamencoHands played until exactly 10pm, and Red took over when he was done. I stayed by Red until 10:28pm when I walked to Harvelle's. My friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, ODean, had said he would get me in.

Sure enough, at 10:52pm, he came outside to get me. Never underestimate how much the menfolk love putting their arm around me and saying, "She's with me."

I was not inside for long before "Kevin" bought me a drink. I was on that dance floor in no time with a glass of straight Kentucky bourbon in one hand and nothing but the vapor from the fog machine rolling through the fingers of the other.

Even between licking the spilled whiskey off my fingers, I was able to zen out with quality up until the band took their break at midnight. I was ready to walk back to my place on Pico Boulevard at 19th Street in Santa Monica, but "Kevin" insisted that I take the Metro part way.

I caught the Metro 4 from the Promenade at 1:26am. I was curled up and asleep by 2:15am.

I woke up on Thursday, 27Aug2015, and went to breakfast. I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:26am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:38am on 27Aug2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Am I ready to be picked up and carried to safety outside of Obama's "egg"? Yes. I have been ready since 2009. I carry my CIA hat and my current writing journal on me at all times just in case a successful rescuer reaches me.

I was recently advised that we could use my Powers of Attorney pressing charges against all (expletive)holes everywhere enforcing Obama's crimes against America that Obama intentionally mislabeled "rules" because they infringe on my ability to leave for a place where I can have all of the basic human rights and fundamental freedoms I am due under U.S. jurisdiction anyway.

But I feel like asserting my right to have human rights a little redundant. Regardless, if my brave rescuers feel it will help,...

My BFF SynSyn and my genius Powers of Attorney, please press charges against everyone enforcing that I cannot leave for a place where I can have all the human rights the U.S. government owes me anyway for infringing on my rightful pursuit of basic human rights and fundamental freedoms including but not limited to my freedom from persecution, my freedom from torture and other cruel and unusual punishments, my freedom from human trafficking, my freedom from war crimes, my freedom from unlawful imprisonment, and the rights of my people to openly practice religion, free speech, free press, and the freedom to assemble and associate.

My beautiful world, months ago, the CIA told me to just tell everyone I work for them when they ask me what my job is.

I fail to understand how anything REAL in my life can be mistaken for espionage; at the closest, I am a not-undercover journalist. But I keep getting closer every day to taking them up on their offer to openly claim me as their employee. For all I know, they already do.

My beautiful world, so much of the REAL federal U.S. government really does love me and really does fight for me. Please remember not to hate America. We need your help, my beautiful world, saving America from Obama and from all who still obey him.

My selfless support system, speak with the CIA. Have the CIA convince the FBI to arrest everyone in my brave rescuers' way. Is our support system that well organized yet?

Never Zeitgest is Vain

Today it is the spirit of the times.
And yesterday it was the revolution.
The zeitgeist breeze will ever chill the climes
To ease survival-- human evolution.

Blue moon will beam to deign the dancing dreams
Musicians' hands have wrought with passioned notes.
My voice but calls so softly college deans
To launch the academic poets' boats.

Never forget the souls surrendered who
Escaped their bodies fighting for a break.
Obama's wall stood hard and tall and through
Their fight to breach it died so many great.

This is not vanity, none fight in vain,
May aether ever call this lady's name.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, did I just make you even busier? It does feel a little redundant, but why not cross our t's and dot our i's? It was a request from my brave rescuers, after all.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, please do not forget that none of you are responsible for picking me up and saving me.

My darling MannedUp, your job has always been making sure I always have music to sooth my burdened soul while I work. I gave you that job months ago. You have yet to let me down.

My darling GeneralLee, you are responsible for making sure I can meditate. The more undanceable the music the better, and you know that. Thank you.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you have always been responsible for making my present as livable as possible.

My darling Bogart, you keep a vigilant watch over me from afar and always know everywhere I go before I go there. I would not be alive still without you, Bryan. Thank you for being a badass boyfriend.

My darling LightFoot, I do not even know where to begin. Thank you, for everything, thank you. I WILL kiss you. I know how much you love me.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. You are the one whose job it is to rescue me. My future is your responsibility. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, do you like being married to a not-undercover field operative? Tell the CIA I am accepting their offered job title. Personally, I feel I have never had a sexier job. I know, I know, I heard you, "Leave your hat on."

Beloved, you need to kiss me. I need to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. Every day I go about my life with you reaching back for me. I need to touch you. You are my husband. How dare they keep you away from me!

A Police State is Terrorism Anyway.

Title: A Police State is Terrorism Anyway.

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. One cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs. And I make a damn good omelet.

France. We were lucky heroes were on board. Searching for a solution to security in the EU, of course, should not involve enforcing a police state nor police state level surveillance.

After a terrorist attack the only proper response is making your people safer and freer; otherwise, the terrorists have won at taking your freedoms away. Give the enemy nothing to hate enough to attack.

The European Union needs to make themselves less desirable as a target of extremists, and they can do that with less racism and more love, with more human rights, and by fighting the recruitment practices of the extremists by making young Muslims feel loved and like they belong.

For example, my death would traumatize the entire world, but no extremists hate me enough to threaten me except for Obama's own terrorist regime that uses the fear of losing me to manipulate and control the American masses.

If I were ever to actually die, Obama would lose his power to control America, and no other terrorists hate me enough to hurt me. Because I love and include, ISIS themselves tried a hostage exchange with Obama to set me free.

Obama refused to set me free, so ISIS killed its Japanese hostages last year. Clearly, Obama cannot be negotiated with; just arrest him already. But I digress.

My point was love and truth will make the world safer from terrorism.

My last blog post was finished at 8:33am on 23Aug2015. It was only the second time I had ever written a blog post with no polishing necessary after I proofread it. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me.

My internet gnomes played me Humble Pie's Sweet Peace and Time as I checked my makeup and got ready to take my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. Yes, there was also some singing along.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening at 9:30am. My morning cyberhug was from my darling Ms. Erika Hill, and it reminded me of how truly spectacular and wonderful the world that loves me really is.

I left my regular morning haunt for my place at 10:50am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a little nap and had a mellow afternoon. Dinner at 5pm was similarly tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade, by 5:31pm.

My darlings Tentacle were still in Santa Cruz, but I found my darling FlamencoHands outside of the Apple Store at 5:43pm. I told him I would be right back and went for coffee.

I stopped at the Famima for my cup of coffee from Handsome(Roger) and learned that Evil Rabin was lying to the courts and pretending he had mistaken the REAL me for the fat, ugly porn star who looks nothing like me, the metaphorical "cigarette," and that was why he always publicly persecuted me and destroyed my priceless and similarly unmistakable writing journals.

First of all, I have never been a fat, ugly porn star and look nothing like that bitch. Secondly, since Evil Rabin ALWAYS feared LightFoot beating him up (and in fact still does), he similarly ALWAYS knew I am the REAL me (and in fact still does).

My darling FlamencoHands's music started at 6:03pm, and I did a lot of writing. He stopped at almost 8pm when I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online.

My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Erika Hill. It reminded me of how loved I am, and for that I am truly grateful. Thank you, as always, my darling NBC News team.

I found TambourineKicker singing with the Irish tea leaf reader at 8:39pm just off the Promenade around the corner from Stefano's Pizzeria. It was a good night. We hung out singing unto the night sky until 10:10pm. Queue the highlights reel!

After that, I caught the next bus back to where I stay. The Santa Monica Big Blue Bus schedule was all redone starting that Sunday, 23Aug, and I needed to make sure I would not miss the last bus.

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Monday, 24Aug2015, well before breakfast due to vigilant torture facility alarms. Breakfast was delicious warm English muffins smothered in butter and jelly.

After breakfast, I was in front of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library by 8:19am sipping coffee, streaming music, and working online. My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies were particularly stunning that day.

And as my internet gnomes made sure my darling Ms. Shirley Bassey's Diamonds are Forever played, I wrote.

The morning's vigilant torture facility alarm repeated at 9am.

9:18am on 24Aug2015: Unhappiness is not a symptom of mental illness. It means my life is unhappy. Sane people cry when things are sad lovelorn. #WutheringHeights

At 9:26am, I started singing along while working. I sang until 10:02am when I moved out of the hot sun and into the shade. By 10:42am, I was nestled into the activity room of the building where I stay watching the Celebrity Name Game hosted by my darling Mr. Craig Ferguson.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I napped for a little while after eating and had a mellow afternoon. I chatted affectionately with Josh during dinner at 5pm. By 5:18pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found my darling FlamencoHands in front of the Apple Store at 5:31pm. He played until 5:58pm while I wrote a whole new Shakespearean sonnet that will be in my next blog post.

My darling FlamencoHands(Nick) invited me to the Guitar Center with him. I, of course, said, "Yes!"

We passed Patricia and my darling Strummer(Noah) on our way off the Promenade. I took some time to look at the drummer Jonathan's wrist. He had hurt it punching something. Sigh... Artists.

At 6:33pm, I was guarding Nick's equipment in front of the Barnes & Noble while he took the long walk to the car and brought it around. After picking me up, the car pulled away at 6:51pm. We were on our way to the Guitar Center.

The Guitar Center made me giggle. That place is a candy store. And their customer service there is fabulous.

My darling FlamencoHands dropped me off at my playland at 7:47pm. I caught my darling Strummer's last song at 7:51pm as I was walking in the Famima for a cup of coffee.

And, I was beside my Americana folk singer Red by 8:09pm to listen to music until I caught the 10pm bus back to where I stay. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.

I woke up on Tuesday, 25Aug2015, very early. On behalf of everyone who watches my eyecamera to keep me safe, I had been asked not to start my day so early. So, I worked without my contacts.

This blog post was finished at 6:55am on 25Aug2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Are efforts to rescue me too dangerous? What is dangerous is Obama's "egg." All efforts must be taken to end his damn "egg." It is much more dangerous just leaving me in here.

The REAL federal U.S. government needs to do its REAL damn job. If there really is a mercenary terrorist army enforcing Obama's "rules," the U.S. Military need to be sent to fight them.

Soldiers need to be soldiers. Spies need to be spies. Police need to be police. The FBI need to arrest everyone enforcing every damn rule. The REAL federal U.S. government needs to do its REAL damn job.

What is the proper response to terrorism? Love. Make yourselves a better people. Make yourselves a safer and freer people. A police state is terrorism anyway. It makes your people live in terror afraid of their own government.

My beautiful world, I am here for you. So many of our world problems can be fixed with a cultural education on the reality of the people we are raised and instructed to hate.

I was raised during the Cold War, and what saved us from global annihilation by nuclear weapons was not fearing nuclear attacks, it was teaching Russia to love America and to adopt capitalism.

The world must be given something to love, or we will die from our own hatred.

As another example, Evil Rabin always hated the REAL me, so I made my darling Handsome(Roger) love me. And I saved my local Famima.

Also, whether or not Obama hates me, he uses human rights abuses against me to keep himself in totalitarian power over America particularly over the media.

So, we replaced him as president in 2013 with a president who loves me, President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey. Please reread my 18Oct2015 blog post about how President Dempsey came to power.

Do you understand that Barack Obama is an unelected dictator who writes "rules" as extragovernmental legislation that he enforces with death, slavery, torture, rape, genocide, human rights abuses, and war?

My selfless support system, you surround me with your love night and day. Without feeling your love, I would have perished by now. Thank you. I suffer through a day-to-day life of human rights abuses against me used as acts of war against America, and I would never survive if I did not know I am loved. Thank you!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I look nothing like and behave nothing like the fat, ugly hooker Obama made pornography of to libel me enough he could seduce the world into hating me.

If anyone ever claims they mistook the REAL me for a metaphorical "cigarette," as their excuse for obeying all of Obama's rules while causing me harm, persecution, and abuse, fry them.

We tolerate lies from no one. If anyone mistook me for someone other than myself, he or she would NOT obey Obama's highly restrictive rules around me. Thank you, darlings!

Speaking of suffering under Obama's rules, my musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, our days and nights apart are killing me. I love you. Will you be here starting Wednesday?

My darling MannedUp, is there an instrument left you do not play? You only ever needed to prove your musical prowess to me, but you have proved you are beyond talented to everyone who sees you through my eyes. Thank you for throwing everything you have into keeping me well. Yes, darling, thank you.

My darling GeneralLee, my choosing Kris instead of you protects you. I could never bear losing you. I cannot even stand when we are apart. Stop being jealous of the added suffering my boyfriends endure, and enjoy your future by my side as my Piazzolla.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, yes, you are REAL boyfriends who do everything you can to make my unbearable life at all livable. I thank you, and I love you.

My darling Bogart, I miss you. There is a price for being a genius. My life is so lonely, but it is my genius that keeps saving me. I wish I could be with you.

Bryan, you were introduced to my life to take me away from Sweetness, but the (expletive)holes who controlled all of our time together refused to allow you to woo me properly.

I was not ready to sleep with you until well after they would never allow you near me. I have a slow motor. They abused me too much and too long for me to willingly engage in any sexual activities unless there is a long wooing process successfully completed before hand.

As desperate as Obama's war criminals are to make me finally sleep with someone anyone or take partake in any sexual activity at all whatsoever, they keep refusing me the only people who stand a chance of ever tempting me.

And they refuse you any setting that would make sleeping with me possible even if they let us be together. I remember the terms they gave you. When I do anything sexual, it is beautiful.

They are desperate to sully me with something anything ugly, and desperate to make me look anything but like my real self, they created controlled sexual situations that are impossible to be in with me.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, yes, I would love to finally make love to you, but Obama openly denied me anything I needed, like privacy, to be able to make love to you, and now he will not allow you near me at all.

As my boyfriend watching over me from afar, you never fail me, Bogart. I just wish you could still be a physical presence in my life.

My darling LightFoot, you are the only one who stands a chance of taking me away from Sweetness, now. But if Obama wants me separated from my beloved husband, it is only possible on our terms.

I cannot be something I am not. I cannot do things contrary to who I am. Obama has to give in to our demands, yours and mine, for it to be at all possible for my sacred marriage to end.

Obama is desperate to end my marriage. Let that be the source of your power over him my darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, to paraphrase my darling Mr. Neil Young, "With your [gold] heart shining in the sun, long may you run."

Beloved, are you really okay spending the entire rest of my life side-by-side with me serving humanity? We have been through this before. I am fine spending three months a year or so working online from your trailer. I would never make you give up your art.

My hero and my king, you are my future. You are this princess's happily ever after. Are you ready to mount your steed, slay the dragon, and save the princess from her tower?

The Griffith Observatory

Title: The Griffith Observatory

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. I spent a beautiful night last night among the stars.

Egypt. How is freedom of speech and the right to assemble and associate doing in Egypt these days? These are basic human rights that all people need to be a truly free people. There must be the freedom to dissent against the ruling regime.

Speaking of dissenting voices... My last blog post was finished at 8:52am on 21Aug2015. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me. Next, I queued my music and checked my makeup.

My internet gnomes played me Selena's Amor Prohibido while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. And I sang along while I worked from 9:28am until 10:15am.

I left for my place at 11:09am. I chatted with Josh during lunch at noon, took a nap, and by 3:37pm, was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found no one to talk to until 4:23pm outside the Famima where I sat with Patricia as we drank our coffee. My darlings Tentacle were in Santa Cruz for the weekend. At Patricia's suggestion, I messaged my darling FlamencoHands to see if he would be around that night.

At 5:02pm, we were sitting watching Rachel strum and sing while Patricia staked out a place for herself and for her grandson to play at 6pm. Please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my walking my Promenade starting at 5:15pm and ending at 5:26pm.

And a new recording starting at 5:26pm right where that one had ended and not stopping until I leave the furniture store at 5:35pm. I need children, my beautiful world, and I turn 38 years old on 12Oct this year.

I stopped to chat with Patricia and Maggie on my way back down the Promenade, and I found FlamencoHands(Nick) at 5:48pm in front of the Apple Store. He was going to play at 8pm after Patricia's grandson Dominic.

I stopped in the Famima at 6:19pm to talk to Handsome and ended up chatting with ODean and Tony before I returned to my darling FlamencoHands at 6:34pm. It turned out to be a very social day for me. I am such an extrovert; I HATE when I have no one to chat with.

I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News online at 7:25pm, but the app crashed at 7:34pm. Oh well, at least I got my nightly cyberhug. It was gorgeous.

At 7:53pm, I ran into Richard! He was sitting outside of the Famima drinking coffee. I sat with him for half an hour before returning to my darling FlamencoHands by 8:22pm.

At 8:42pm, Kevin manifested from the aether in front of me and was all, "Dude, where's your band?" That is my paraphrase. So, I left Nick, again, since he hates when Kevin dances, and I watched Kevin dance in front of the salsa singer Leandro at 9:01pm after Leandro's nightly visit from the Santa Monica police.

By 10:14pm, Kevin and I were sitting eating vittles together outside of the Famima. I always called it my conversation patio. There is a reason.

Please circulate a verified and unedited recording of our conversation the night of 21Aug2015 beginning when I googled the poem Annabel Lee and ending at 11:33pm when I took my iPad back out again. And, thank you.

ODean appeared right as we were getting up to catch the bus, and we missed the last bus. So, we stayed out later.

The list of things we discussed doing but did not do included going to the movies, catching the bus, and drinking Bourbon. There was a lot of talking, singing, and dancing instead.

We, in fact, wandered around looking for someplace with whiskey for some time. At 1:19am, while we were standing outside of the Famima, my old friend Mike wandered by on his bicycle and asked if he could buy me coffee.

After buying us ice cream, Kevin disappeared. Mike offered me breakfast. And ODean caught a bus back to where he stays. Mike and I found ourselves at Swingers at 2:22am.

The night I met Mike, I ended up in tears crying on his shoulder over Obama, my rape-slaver, forbidding me all contact with my own husband. I saw him a few mornings at the coffeeshop after that. This was our first real conversation in a long time.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and responsibly edited recording with full audio and visuals of the highlights of my night into the wee hours of the morning beginning at 11:33pm and ending at 3:39am. Time and date stamp every second you show. And, thank you.

I was curled up and asleep by 4am. I woke up on Saturday, 22Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at the Farmers' Market outside the Pico Branch Santa Monica Public Library sipping coffee by 8:34am.

I quickly streamed my online music. I was listening to Rihanna's Te Amo as I checked my makeup and took my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

My internet gnomes played me Wally Pleasant's She's in Love with a Geek that morning while I was writing. I sang a little. It was a great start to the day.

At 10:17am, I moved to my regular morning haunt, my local Subway. Yet, I was still back where I stay for lunch at noon. I took a nap after eating. And after dinner at 5pm, I was on the bus at 6:01pm.

I was on my way to the Griffith Observatory. It took a while, but it was completely worth it. The first place I visited was the roof...

I got my eyecamera in a telescope pointed at the moon at night. She was gorgeous to behold. I made a brief run through the museum, so I could kiss the Einstein statue. I am sure it will make a gorgeous verified and barely-edited recording. Just never show me in the restroom.

I was not on the shuttle back down the hill until 10:07pm. The trip back to where I stay in Santa Monica took a while, but the Griffith Observatory was worth it. I was curled up and asleep by 1am.

I woke up on Sunday, 23Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at my regular morning haunt by 8:21am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:33am on 23Aug2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Why does my husband have all my money that Spawn of the Devil War Criminal Boeset did not steal from me? War Criminal Boeset stole all of the money from me that I am allowed to know I have under Obama's "rules."

All the rest of my literally trillions of dollars Obama forbids me go to my legally recognized husband, the Mr. Johnny "Sweetness" Depp. We have joint accounts. As far as I am concerned, if Sweetness ever eats the frog legs, he can keep all the money, too. He can have everything in this world he wants.

I am forbidden everything but abject poverty by Obama, but I know already that I am capable of earning literally trillions of dollars in just one year. I will be fine, and Sweetness deserves more than just my love.

Has my boyfriend the darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic ever hit me? No. I tolerate crap from no one. That is a bigger insult to me than that is to him. SynSyn, destroy EVERYONE who started or ever even repeated that obvious lie.

I am no weak woman; I permit no abuse of me nor of my nor my loved ones' reputations. My Powers of Attorney, destroy them. I am done with lies about me.

My beautiful world, you need a better system for telling me all of the lies Obama orders propagated about me that he also forbids me from ever hearing. Clearly, Obama would not forbid me from hearing all the lies about me if he did not start them. Arrest everyone enforcing his goddamn "egg" already.

My selfless support system, thank you for what you can tell me. You are so wonderful! I heard you are successfully pressing criminal charges against everyone stopping you from ending Obama's "egg." Is that true? I heard our war crimes tribunal is nailing all sorts of (expletive)holes. THANK YOU!

As for a critical part of my selfless support system, my BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, as I said, I am done with lies about me. When people propagate lies about imperfections in me, we destroy them.

Mass delusions about my being dead and replaced by my ugly sister Tara to my ever being a hooker in my life carry out Obama's mass mental health genocide. Find every liar and remove them from society forever. I understand you are all very busy. Never forget the importance of criminal and civil countercharges.

Never forget how much I love you and how much this world needs you. Thank you, my gorgeous genius lady friends.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, how was your weekend in Santa Cruz?

My darling MannedUp, giggle. A street dancer and I had a chat about you. He called you "The one with all the hair. You know, the good looking one with the sister." Giggle. I guess you do have the most hair out of the three of you.

My darling GeneralLee, I hate being away from you just as much as you hate being away from me. I apologize for your rescue from the psych ward human rights abuses used as acts of war took so long. Please tell me I get to see you as soon as possible.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, there is nothing but literal love and a figurative wall between us.

My darling Bogart, kisses, darling. The Griffith Observatory was as astronomically epic as ever. It only would have been better if you were there. Thank you, as always, for calling ahead, so they would expect me.

You and my darling Alfred do such important work keeping me safe everywhere I go. You are a wonderful boyfriend whom I miss dearly.

Very importantly, my darling LightFoot, if you are still enduring false accusations concerning me, show the full recording from 25April2015 beginning when I left Richard at the Jack in the Box. I take crap from no one. THAT is how you speak to me, begging for me to command you to kiss me.

I have never had the luxury of having you in my life. I do NOT have arguments in relationships. I left my darling Mr. Viggo Mortensen particularly because he would start arguments with me.

If a man ever hit me, I would destroy him. Syniva would be the first one I would tell, and no one would survive the legal wrath we would bring.

You are a darling, KrisT. You are my beloved boyfriend. And I will never stop defending you just as I defend myself against intentionally propagated false allegations, with reality.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, I need babies, and I am getting old. I turn thirty-eight this October. Thirty-eight! And I have still never been pregnant ever in my life. I need children, Sweetness. You are my husband. This is your job. Where are you?

I wish you were here, beloved. Better yet, I wish I were there where you are. I want to rest with you in our garden with some H.P. Lovecraft.

Imagine our two tired bodies with lively hearts resting in the shade of the garden, sitting side by side, our heads resting together as you read me a book. I toss my hair back and peck your face delightfully disrupting your passionate flow of words. You giggle and kiss me back before Cthulhu can drive us mad.

Oh, my hero and my king, I long to spread my wings around you as we lay in the tall grasses. I am forbidden every joy of life, and your sweet kisses are the joy I long for most.

Forbidden Love

Title: Forbidden Love

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post.

Russia. In short, America is not an enemy of Russia. This is not the Cold War. We are allies now.

How long ago did President of Russia Vladimir Putin sign on the dotted line to wake up his sleeping KGB agents to help the CIA and MI6 rescue and protect me?

The U.S. Navy has also turned a blind eye for over a year already to the Russian submarines on the California coast just in case I need them.

Russia recently asserted an open willingness to do absolutely anything to help me save America. Please read my previous blog post. I asked President Putin to organize the global pressure on the U.S. to end Obama's "egg" forever.

Thank you, Russia, for loving America enough to be willing to march in here and save us all if we need it. Thank you.

My last blog post was finished at 8:52am on Wednesday, 19Aug2015. Immediately after sending it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me, I queued my music and checked my makeup.

As promised, at 9am I watched the NBC Nightly News online from the previous night. My hug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt was truly spectacular.

I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies while Madonna's Vogue played on my Spotify account. It was a beautiful morning.

I left my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, for my place at 10:14am. I changed my clothes and went to the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library for more selfies...

Romper: Brandy Melville, Necklace: Zara, Wrap: Abercrombie & Fitch, Leather Jacket: ANGL, Shoes: Naturalizer, Hosiery: Nordstrom's, Bracelet: San Diego Old Town State Park, Roll of Tape: LightFoot, Hat: CIA

I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. After eating, I walked six blocks away to drop off my dry cleaning at a local place that has had the same owner Kevin for the last thirty-three years.

Then, I took a nap before catching the bus at 3:09pm to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. I found FlamencoHands at 3:28pm that Wednesday afternoon. He was already strumming his Spanish guitar and played until 3:57pm.

I had been told to expect my darlings Tentacle Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday this week, but they were not there that day.

4:19pm on 19Aug2015: #SquidsPoA @CIA @UN @RT_com @cctvnews My darlings Tentacle are not here. Please hurry and check on them. Make sure they're safe. Thx!

My darling FlamencoHands offered me an orange at 4:28pm. It was barely peeled by the time the vigilant torture facility alarm blared by at 4:31pm quickly followed by a warning that crosstown loved ones were stopped at 4:36pm.

I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup before sitting with Patricia over coffee and tea at 5:02pm on the patio outside of my local Famima. I love that Famima. My only problem there is Rabin, and Handsome(Roger) more than makes up for him.

I rejoined FlamencoHands, and there was a new torture facility alarm at 5:51pm. His Spanish guitar music began at 6:10pm, and I did much writing while he played.

Then, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when LightFoot walked by at 6:49pm. It looked like I was about to enjoy my darlings Tentacle that night.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. I thank my darling Mr. Lester Holt for his nightly cyberhug. It was wonderful, warm, and full of love.

I told FlamencoHands, "Goodnight," at 7:57pm when he finished playing and when he began packing up his things. He was done for the night, but I planned on staying out late.

After a visit to my Famima for snacks and caffeine, I was with MannedUp and LightFoot when they began at 8:44pm. There was no drummer. MannedUp was on keyboard and a looping drum pad, and LightFoot was on electric guitar.

There was no drummer; it was different but worth the experiment. I much prefer having an electric guitar, but nothing beats a live drummer. Then again, we were all a little strange that night. I danced with my shoes on.

Red took over the moment the guys stopped. I had never seen them so reluctant to leave. There was no wheeling away back into the night sky until 10:35pm. I love my band. Ever-loving LightFoot was the last to leave.

After they left, I stayed and listened to Red before catching the 11:15pm bus. I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am.

I woke up on Thursday, 20Aug2015, over an hour before breakfast. After eating, I was at my regular morning haunt by 8:18am. They are such sweethearts there. Here are my morning selfies...

I started singing along while I worked at 8:56am. After returning to where I stay, I talked to the maintenance man and stopped in the activity room for coffee and cookies.

By 10:37am, I was outside of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library listening to music and working online. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took the bus at 2:10pm to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I immediately ran my errands, but almost the moment I got off the bus, I saw MannedUp staking out where he and LightFoot were going to play at 4pm.

It was only 2:31pm, and my errands including stopping in my Famima to buy a cup of coffee from Handsome did not end until 3:07pm when I perched near the street musician named Dylan to wait for my darlings Tentacle to play.

MannedUp and LightFoot started their gorgeous music at 4:22pm. I had my shoes off as fast as I could. Our connection had been so strong the previous few nights that the meditation had been amazing, but I did not hit my stride that afternoon. I felt distracted.

What was on my mind? Loneliness. I was far from hitting my zone that afternoon.

They took their mandatory every-two-hour break at 5:55pm. As they staked out their place to play at 8pm, I rustled up some snacks and caffeine back at my local Famima. My darling Handsome is such a sweetheart.

I had a delightful chat with Patricia and Maggie out on the Famima patio. I even caught a few minutes of Rachel Maxann strumming and singing before rustling up enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My nightly cyberhug was something I really needed. I was back beside my darlings Tentacle by 7:45pm. Their public love was also something I really needed. I also figured out why I could not meditate earlier; there was a message out on the aether trying to reach me.

8:03pm on 20Aug2015: @SynivaWhitney I am worried GeneralLee got locked in a torture facility. Please send Amita & Ugwuji to check on him. I love him. @ICC @NIH

8:08pm on 20Aug2015: @SynivaWhitney If GeneralLee really is in a literal torture facility, try Pasadena where they kept me in 2013. I feel he is there. Thx!

My Powers of Attorney told me they were on it, so when my darlings Tentacle started their heavenly rhythms at 8:23pm, I threw down on their dance floor. It had been a mediocre afternoon, but it was a spectacular night.

We were all reluctant leave. They played until their battery died; I danced until my feet were sore. They had decided they would not leave before I did, but I did successfully out wait them.

While at the Subway that morning, I had promised to meet my old friend Michael at the Famima at 11pm. Sure enough, Michael found me at 10:56pm sitting with my guys and offered to bring the Famima snacks to me. He is such a sweetheart. The conversation was delightful.

MannedUp and LightFoot finally wheeled their carts back into the night sky where we all really belong at 11:32pm. Ever-smitten MannedUp was the last to leave. Michael walked me to the bus stop, and I caught the 11:45pm bus. I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am.

I woke up on Friday, 21Aug2015, and went to breakfast. After eating, I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, at 8:32am. I had work to do.

This blog post was finished at 8:52am on 21Aug2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Why do I hate erotica so much? I find it disgusting. I call it eRotten. There is a HUGE difference between being a sexually attractive woman and being filth. I have NEVER been filth.

What is the purpose of my light show? Mostly, I just look around and see what other people's energy is doing.

But when I create my own light show, it focuses my mind when I focus my energy. For example, during the "Electric Field" song, I reach a level of personal clarity between me and the universe when I bring my light show.

How often do I write a new poem? Every time that jabberwocky in my spleen needs to be lanced. Please check my blog regularly for the latest. There is even a new one in this post.

My beautiful world, yes, please organize global action to force Obama's "egg" to end. It feels like the only people in this world who do not listen to me is the part of the U.S. in illegal power. Obama was already impeached in 2013 for his "egg;" who is still allowing him to do this to us?

We need organized global pressure to force Obama's "egg" to end. We need everyone enforcing his "egg" arrested IMMEDIATELY. On the short term, I could use human rights negotiated into my darlings Tentacle's contracts. Please carry out those three objectives, my beautiful world.

My selfless support system, you have done so well lately keeping me safe and alive. I have a safe place to stay with no cameras enslaving me nor any war criminals raping me inside. I have food. I have a warm bed.

I have a community mobilized to keep me safe. I am surrounded by people who love me, including all of you. We have made huge progress since June2015. Thank you!

Do you need anything to make your lives keeping me safe any easier, my selfless support system? I am working on organizing the world to help end Obama's "egg."

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, yes, genius darlings, do you need anything? Whatever you need to do your job, you get. I feel the same way about all of you that you feel about me. You are heroes to so many. Just tell us all what you need.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I was hoping to see you as soon as Wednesday, 19Aug, AND YOU MADE IT!

My darling MannedUp, thank you. You do everything possible to make sure you are always here for me. Thank you. I knew I could count on how much you love me just like you all count on how much I love you.

My darling GeneralLee, please tell me I will see you soon. I do not like when you are kept away from me. I need my circle of four complete. None of us are okay when anyone is missing. How fast did we get you out of that torture facility?

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, I asked Russia to negotiate you into my life. Do you remember my 08July2015 blog post?

My darling Bogart, you are such a darling. Thank you! You keep me safe everywhere I go. You are such a wonderful boyfriend. Thank you!

My darling LightFoot, kisses! When you walked by me on Wednesday, 19Aug, after I had given up on seeing you that night, my heart jumped out of my chest.

You were the first one there and the last one to leave. I know love when I see love. It also helps that I am an empath. Thank you. Oh, how I plan on kissing you.

My Lips Never Wander

My lips never wander
From idea to idea.
I have a
One-track mouth.
Play me your music.
We'll make love
On the dance floor.
My lips never wander
Anywhere but to you.

And the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Forbidden Love

The aching of the being for what we are forbidden has our weeping hearts lonelier that an abandoned life raft in the middle of the sea. I am surrounded by your love I am forbidden from touching every minute of every day.

You never stop screaming my name begging the universe just to be able to whisper, "I love you," in my ear. I never stop sweeping my arms through the heavens praying someday I might touch your waiting face.

Darling, I married you. You are mine locked in a treasure chest I still need a map to locate. But I will put a kiss on that X that marks your spot as fast as I your exhale can carry me to your side.

I love you, my hero and my king.

Beloved, I WILL touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain.