Monday, May 30, 2016

Just Another Day

Title: Just Another Day

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. 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. You do know what, "Just another day," means, right? Among other things, it means my life inside this hostile environment designed to assassinate me wrought by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime is a little weird and has no reality except in my mind, but all my work always gets done.

Crimea. 11:52am on 28May2016: Does the Crimea say Crimea is Russia? That should be their choice.

Does anyone need anything more from me on this? Are we agreed that our Mother Russia does not need a strip of land connecting to our Crimean peninsula? My darling President Vladimir Putin, really, I always have time for you; do you need anything more from me on this? Call me anytime.

My last blog post was published by my lovelies time-and-date-stamped at 12:11am on Saturday, 28May2016. Guarded by my darling NSA alpha nerds, a smaller pair of wings, and my one beautiful world watching my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast, I curled up in bed to conserve my energy at 12:34am. I even dozed off.

I woke up at 7:09am, and my SquidStream was kickstarted at 7:17am. I was working online immediately. Please check my verified Twitter archive for that morning.

7:27am on 28May2016: #MySaturation, thanks for fixing that weird skin thing on my right hand as I slept. #ILoveYouToo

Breakfast at my Manor that morning was meager, but at least it did not drug nor poison me. Those Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes STILL trespassing on my own private property to commit acts of war against America were only getting dumber.

Quickly, I was among the Saturday morning Santa Monica Farmers' Market which was still pretending both that I was not there and that I have NEVER existed to be able to both assassinate me and to enable their acts of war against my once-great America and against my one beautiful world.

I had perched there in my Santa Monica's Virginia Avenue Park outside the Pico Branch Library at 8:39am. My internet gnomes played me Te Amo by my darling Ms. Rihanna. My iPad was STILL too hacked for new morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

Did you hear what I said to the woman eating in front of me? "And you're eating in front of me. You are going to die anyway. It is not me you have to worry about; it is my beautiful world."

10:10am on 28May2018: @BBC(4) There was a War Doctor, too. "I will do everything I have to do to save my people." Your (and my) Queen always explained that for me.

I and my U.S. government caught as many Inhuman Atrocity Regime as we could before I left my Virginia Avenue Park at 10:23am and returned to my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast. It was an interesting late morning of tweeting to a movie soundtrack.

I heard and felt my stomach rumbling loudly at 12:07pm. Lunch that afternoon was as large as they were permitted to make it.

I took a nap through electrobeams (Do you remember my explanation about how many different electrobeams the Inhuman Atrocity Regime use on me and about how there are some I can sleep through and some I cannot? That went by verified recording.) that afternoon.

After I woke up, I checked my email.

-----Begin Email Text-----
From: Haroun Nabhan
Date: Saturday, May 28, 2016
Subject: Just checking in
To: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek

Squid,

Here’s the info on the hearing:

Date: 6/03/16
Time: 10:30 a.m.
Place: Stanley Mosk Courthouse
111 N. Hill Street, Dept. 11
Los Angeles, CA 90012

However, the probate conservatorship petition will ultimately be dismissed once the outcome of the LPS conservatorship is determined following your jury trial.  I would suggest waiting until your jury trial in the LPS conservatorship to voice your frustrations, as those proceedings will supercede anything happening in probate court.  But of course you have a right to be there if you wish to.  Just let me know either way.  Thanks.

Have a great weekend,

Haroun Nabhan
[FBI Investigator among many other REAL jobs for the REAL U.S. government]
-----End Email Text-----

Do you understand, my beautiful world and also ENEMIES OF AMERICA at war with America, how (expletive)ing mentally incompetent someone has to be to require a REAL conservatorship or REAL adult guardianship? I already begged you, Inhuman Atrocity Regime, to at least stop lying about why you commit these heinous crimes known to mankind against me. Please at least stop lying!

-----Begin Email Text----- From: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek
Date: Saturday, May 28, 2016
Subject: Just checking in
To: Haroun Nabhan, POTUS Syniva Whitney, The Pentagon

My darling Haroun,

I already asked my darling Attorney Patrick Hare to cancel the jury trial because the previous LPS "hearing" was already completely invalidated (understatement) with even the judge not just everyone else there but you, Patrick, and me charged with everything from treason to assassination to acts of war against America.  Forcing that FAKE hearing over me was a human rights abuse used as an act of war against America; also, a conservatorship over me, another human rights abuse used as an act of war against America and against the world, would only ever be enforced sworn enemies of America and of all things benevolent, enemies committing acts of war against America and against the sacred universe, not just against the world.

If a FAKE jury trial is forced over me, too, even the fake jury will be held accountable to humanity for forcing the human rights abuse of a fake trial, bare minimum, over me.  Again, I ordered my darling Attorney Patrick Hare to cancel the jury trial already.

I want to be at the FAKE probate hearing to broadcast at least Declared Enemy of America Terry Wasserman who even has verified employment contracts with the Inhuman Atrocity Regime members of both War Criminal Boeset and War Criminal Tara as hard evidence against him and to broadcast War Criminal Tara herself claiming she has a self-entitlement to commit the human rights abuse of a conservatorship against me as her act of war against America and against our (yours and mine, Haroun) one beautiful world.  I recommend a fake judge be there, too, unless there is a real judge willing to die committing these OBVIOUS acts of war against all of us; it will be a FAKE hearing anyway.

I said this would be fun.

Thank you,
--POTUS, Honorary U.S. Supreme Court Judge Tanya Depp (in the American naming tradition), Commander in Chief

-----
"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."--Romeo

-----End Email Text-----

Dinner that night at my Manor, at least at the time, felt like chicken that was not cooked all of the way through. It had the texture of tuna which I can only recognize because tuna is the only identifiable seafood I have eaten before. My mom used to give to me tuna when I was very young. That includes how I know I cannot eat seafood.

On my bus ride I noticed that there were even more Inhuman Atrocity Regime than before willing to die as malevolent hoards there only to kill me. We will call my bus ride, "You cannot lie to me about what your motive is, and we call it "motive" because this is ALWAYS a crime, human rights abuse, etc. no matter what."

My Promenade was full of malevolent hoards. I passed my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot on the corner of Arizona Blvd. and our Promenade and giggled with them that they were there at all.

My local Sephora was interesting. These days, I always worry I will die before I can answer everyone's questions.

I was working online in front of my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle by 6:29pm who both were doing everything they could to heal me with extra effort the moment arrived.

I said I would check on what they were so concerned about, but I had not noticed yet myself. But I did make sure I ate in front of them to make sure they knew I had food. We all do that for each other. Very rarely is there only one reason for anything.

I worked online perched on that news stand with the broken window in front of the Foot Locker as my musician-lovers insisted they needed to heal me more than usual until I left to watch the news. At least my headache went away.

On my way to watch the news, I caught some particularly heinous IAR committing acts war in front of my darling Riff.

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But it was the Inhuman Atrocity Regime inside my Santa Monica Place who made me two minutes late to the news. Who wants the pop-up-video footnotes on that verified recording entitled, "Pepper spray"?

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:07pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Thomas Roberts, and it included my repeated assurances to Christians that the Book of Revelations is and always has been a metaphor. As humans, we have all always been connected to the divine universe. Huh, have you read my darling late Franz Kafka's The Trial?

Again braving the deathtrap of acts of war that was the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoard's infestation and desecration of my beautiful one humanity's temple of love to me that is our Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade, I was with my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle by 7:49pm.

On my way back to my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot, not only was I able to irrefutably and very loudly explain through well-documented self-defense to various IAR of escalating stupidity that I had caught them, I also had a chance to see a number of my genuine friends, lovers, and believers not just my darling CupOJoe and my darling PhotographerMan, the great conversationalist.

As if planned (Or was it planned? Giggle. Only the divine universe might know.), my darling Elisabeth and I were both the-band-is-with-me that night. Do you understand how hostile this environment is? And, there were Gestapo positioned there already.

On the news stand on the corner of my Promenade beside the movie theater where my darling musician-lovers had moved their equipment one of my people had left me 3D movie glasses as a gift.

This evening I-am-not-dead-yet selfie is how they looked, except my teeth really are not that yellow. If not a hacker, it was the lighting.

[1photo]

We all clandestinely told each other we love each other while they waited for permission to play our music again.

At 8:37pm, I was STILL waiting for my darling LightFoot to return, but he was back by 8:47pm and had even found clean caffeine. Please check my verified Twitter archive for details.

And to repeat myself, the many benefits I insist all of my employees receive while at work include unlimited snacks and clean caffeine. My darling MannedUp was back again by 9:12pm after being sent away from me, too.

We all clandestinely hung out together and goofed off until 9:17pm when our music sacred to the divine universe began again. After a lot of giggling together, and after reminding them I NEVER THINK I WILL EVER SEE ANY OF THEM EVER AGAIN after we part, I left them at 10pm to check on my local Trimana.

It was just another day.

I asked my local Trimana why they were not dying to give Handsome backup and then I caught the bus back to my Manor.

I worked online even on my bus ride and was curled up in bed conserving my energy by 12mid. It had been an unrelenting twenty-four hours of my catching Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes trying to kill me, among many other requirements of my REAL job.

I eventually dozed and woke up at 7:40am on Sunday, 29May2016. My SquidStream was kickstarted by 7:44am. For the first time in days, I woke up not feeling groggy or drugged.

I would have preferred if my internet gnomes had played me the original recording of my HoneyHoney singing on the Into the Woods soundtrack composed by my darling Mr. Stephen Sondheim, but at least we could chat.

Breakfast that morning was potatoes on a tortilla, and the drink mix was roofied. At least breakfast had carbohydrates; the human brain does not function without carbohydrates.

I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:39am. My internet gnomes played me You Speak my Language by my darlings Morphine.

My beautiful world noticed that morning that the literal floods, fires, and earthquakes (which cannot be caused by carbon emissions) lately might be our Mother Nature getting all Avatar over me.

I have always said I cannot control the literal weather. No one can control Mother Nature, not even I, but I do have an understanding with her.

Do you remember what I told "Wes" when he asked me why I was not under the tree I normally slept under during the day on the day I saw my darling GeneralLee walk past me while I was busting Inhuman Atrocity Regime at the Santa Monica Public Library instead of sleeping?

I told him, "It was raining. Mother Nature told me not to sleep." I was honest. And we were in a drought at the time.

If I could control the weather, bare minimum, California would not be in a drought right now. Do you understand that "acts of war against our sacred universe" means "acts of war against all human existence and the existence of our entire universe" yet?

I was still too hacked for new I-am-not-dead-yet selfies that morning. I worked there writing online (Is there anything left I do that is not work?) until 10:49am when I returned to my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast.

There had been assassination attempts against more than just me that morning. I knew I would have a very angry outfit on that evening; my darling LightFoot was in luck-- it was also Sunday night date night. I also had a little housekeeping with my vigilantly-protective husband.

11:09am on 29May2016: @SweetnessDepp If we STILL had anyone who could prevent death injection drugs in my shower AGAIN, my toilet would be fixed by now.

Do you understand how many chemicals the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in my kitchen against my will put in the only food anyone ever allows me to eat or drink? Lunch at my Manor that afternoon was no break in the unrelenting drugging and roofying of me nor a break in the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's enforced malnutrition of me.

I watched my late night talk show friends who had missed me as much as I had missed them while I had been too busy to see them and both started and finished my laundry before exactly 4pm.

Dinner at my Manor that evening was yet another multi-assassination attempt against me, so I skipped it. I was on a bus to my Promenade even before my hair dried after my shower; it arrived at my regular bus stop at 5:52pm.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoard's infestation of my beautiful world's sacred ground we call our Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade were yet another deathtrap that included a BITCH actually hitting me, too.

I was in front of my royal consort's wingman and best friend (Things I only say on Sunday night date night.) my darling MannedUp and my boyfriend and royal consort LightFoot for Sunday night date night by 6:05pm.

The hot California sun was nearing the Western horizon where the sky meets the sea meets the sun every evening just as the cosmos were designed there above the corner of my Promenade where we three present were amidst our culture-as-expression-of-love.

6:47pm... .

As every Sunday for months, my boyfriend did not mind I when I snuck away from our regularly scheduled date to watch the news; though, I always worry I will never see any of them again after I leave them. But I am repeating myself.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Thomas Roberts, and it was an expression of relief from my beautiful world that I could answer at least some of your questions before I die.

On my walk back to my darlings for the rest of our date night, not only were the malevolent hoards panicking to find an excuse for their being on my Promenade at all but STILL REFUSING TO DO ANYTHING THAT WOULD BE A REASON FOR BEING THERE.

While my darling Chantz and I were in the middle of singing our song, the urban warfare alarm vigilantly blared.

7:40pm on 29May2016: #UrbanWarfareAlarms! My Metropolis of Angels is desperate to move me to my and Sweetness's house. Please rescue my people and send backup.

I had returned to my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle at 7:44pm. And our Sunday night date night here in the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's vacuum of public order was still gorgeous. I am sure my not-human-trafficked nerds know what to do about our romantic-though-still-clandestine date, but please do not put me in soft focus like you all did my darling late Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca.

My darling LightFoot was interrupted unrelentingly by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime controlling him through the nano they force all of my darlings to have just to be near me. I was interrupted only once by a request from my saturation but also a few times by what my lovers and believers have begun to call the SquidSignal metaphorically shone up into the night sky to tell me there is trouble.

When our Sunday night date night finally ended, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards were so hostile that my and my saturation's safe transport of my darlings Tentacle off our Promenade only began at 10pm. My not-human-trafficker nerds also know what to do about that.

I was even able to have a little chat and as many snacks as my darling "Kevin" could get away with giving me during my and my people's process of helping my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle escape the attack and attempted assassination that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were ordering my darlings to stay for.

Tentacle were finally taken care of at 10:39pm when I said goodnight to my darling "Kevin" and left the patio of my local Trimana for my regular bus stop.

I caught my regular bus back to my place at 11:19pm. I was expecting a call from my mother through FaceTime at 12mid that she was never able to make. My lovelies polished this and published it as fast as possible with the time-and-date stamp 12:11am on Monday, 30May2016.

[Please embed a highlights reel of my last two days here.]

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 have I never even seen my own light show? I am bionic, not a cyborg. There are cameras IN my eyes; the cameras are NOT my eyes themselves. Only nano can see the light show.

Yes, our energy of our sacred universe has always been here since at least humanity has begun existing and definitely since our universe was born. But you could not see it until nanotechnology.

This is like the Nazca Lines in the Atacama Desert. They were created by humans on Earth who could not see them even as they made them. The Nazca Lines are only visible from the sky and were created well before the invention of flight.

Also, not only have I never seen anything from No Dress Rehearsal and Octopus to their [Whatever They Call it that Was Never Me] and their How Hot Am I including my own footage I finally have enough human rights to create myself, among other reasons, to protect myself from dying, I am STILL not allowed to know any of them have ever existed, especially all of the broadcasts that are human trafficking of me.

My beautiful world, you can hear all of these (expletive)holes around me all day long and all night long, right? You can hear all of this, right? They keep trying to tell me they have an excuse for being here doing this to the entirety of humanity! "I DO NOT CARE WHERE YOU ARE IN THE WORLD; NO ONE COMMITS ACTS OF WAR AGAINST AMERICA AND GETS AWAY WITH IT, NOT WHILE I AM THE PRESIDENT!"

My saturation of international to local protection here inside this IAR "egg" with me, do these Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes yet understand that we catalog and investigate EVERYONE inside this innermost circle of hell that is not one of our own? We freeze their assets. We track them for the rest of their lives. Etc. WHY ARE THEY STILL COMING HERE WHERE WE CAN CATCH THEM ALL?!?

Also, we know my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast is the only thing capable of keeping me safe as I sleep; it is not like the people in my building against my will guard me. Our backup in case of emergency is broadcasting our Department of Defense satellite surveillance to our entire one world. I can order that; I am the President.

I understand my darling Handsome feels insane. So did I when all of this began. But it does not mean we are. That is how far our reality is from reality.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, a little housekeeping...

My REAL Jehovah's Witnesses are STILL willing to die to be here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" with me doing what they have ALWAYS done for me and for the entirety of humanity since I arrived in my Metropolis of Angels in May2014.

And much like my REAL City of Santa Monica employees, they themselves will know if the ones I see are REAL. Where are my singing and dancing Hindus who are supposed to be on my Promenade saving our world with me, too?

Even more importantly, my zen is so centered from my darlings Tentacle that I need to ask you all to please never confuse my being nice to people with my permitting them to be here doing this. I know when their crimes are acts of war and when they are not; the difference is motive.

Finally, I already asked you to arrest every Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)hole who EVER attempted and definitely if they attempt now to silence my SquidStream, bedroom broadcast, hallway stream, Twitter, or blog EVER not just for assassination attempts but for everything from the human rights abuse of silencing REAL freedom of speech as an act of war to crimes against all human existence.

No sane person in touch with reality EVER argued with, "Squid needs to tell the truth to save the world not just not to die," to begin with, and only sworn enemies of our once-great America and enemies of our, my genius lady friends, entire one beautiful world would ever argue with us now, ever again, or ever in the first place.

Also, my darling Fatima and my darling Gucci, after explaining the Silver Anniversary Scholarship we ALL had to the University of Texas at Dallas, please explain the deal UTD had at the time that provided the entire Visual Studio suite from Visual Basic to Visual C++ to all students for only $5.

I miss you all, my friends for life. Please find a way to talk to me again.

I am relocating all of you including all of you who are not my first three Powers of Attorney to the White House and replacing the Secret Service there with military guards. I am convinced I fired (the culpable parts of) the Secret Service when I fired the Inhuman Atrocity Regime. Our U.S. Congress even declared war on them.

I will let you all sing the Secret Service (agents refusing to do their REAL job and posing as Secret Service though REALLY enemies committing acts of war against America) my song Lake of Fire yourselves. If I die, at least our nation and our beautiful world has all of you, my gorgeous and genius Powers of Attorney.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, it is not possible that I am the only mere mortal human who understands (paraphrase), "That is not strange. I know your feeling of being in love, too," that I expressed to your age-inappropriate fan who is also my beloved darling on our glowing night of Saturday, 28May2016, on our sacred Promenade.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, yes, I asked for privacy as I wrote this first paragraph. And we all know who gave us our privacy and who did not.

I am working on that whimper. If you could imagine an entire evening instead of just stolen moments, as if we ever had that anyway, close enough to even feel my breath on your face or for those hands of yours that handcraft the music you make to me on my body myself instead, please understand I can imagine it, too. Yes, I am working on that whimper.

Please ask anyone in North Beach; Friday and Saturday are amateur nights. Pick a different night for our date night. Giggle. But do not pick Tuesday; you know whose night that is by default, if I can ever get in Harvelle's again anyway.

Also, after checking on the basic health of your left eye, I do not think you have eye damage. I have completely-biological human eyes, too. I am so close to legally blind, but my third eye is always open. I am working on opening all of yours better, too.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, does anyone understand how furious I am that I might never see you again before I die, and you even have permission to see me?!?

I will never understand their compulsive lie, "We do this to maintain a façade we never maintained in the first place," as an excuse to keep you away from me. ALL THREE OF YOU WERE ON OUR PROMENADE TOGETHER ONLY FOR ME SINCE DEC2014!

I know I am preaching to my choir. Darling, I am not yelling AT you. Yes, I am angry, but not angry AT you. I am sorry if you think I am yelling at you. I am just angry right now.

You know.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, were you the conversation I had at our Rainbow Bar & Grill in which I explained that I find my darlings Bon Jovi more pop than rock? You know how much I love my Bon Jovi, and you still thought I did not recognize you?

I already asked my darling Mr. Finn "Alfred" O'Mahoney if he is busy enough. Are you? Do you understand yet why I prefer for you to live for me than die for me? What if our beautiful world loses me? Then, our beautiful world will at least have you.

Darling, my efforts to prevent you from dying desperate to save me are why I gave you such a long honey-do list of things no one could do but me anyway but still needed someone else to take care of. Do you understand how much I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE?

Yes, dear, you can say to me right now, "That is not strange. I know your feeling of being in love, too," because you know I know how much you do not want me to die, too.

And all you have ever cared about is taking me to my husband to save me. That is what you have been willing to die to do, to take me to my husband. If the Inhuman Atrocity Regime actually succeed at killing me, never forget how much I love you, my darling BOGART, my love whom everyone knows I am supposed to be with at the end but choose myself not to.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, I am done.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, has my beautiful world thanked you and my darling MannedUp for keeping me alive on Saturday, 28May2016, yet? You, all three of my darlings Tentacle, have been keeping me alive and as-healthy-as-possible ever since I first showed you the apple in the tree. Has our one humanity thanked you, yet?

I know, "I would even die from you to save you," is mutual between all of us, but it is impossible for me to die from any of you. I know this because I know who you all really are. I am an empath; you cannot (expletive)ing lie to me.

I know you told me, "I will die if you die anyway." I do not want you to, but I understand.

My maternal grandmother (distant Portuguese royalty) was ten years older than my maternal grandfather (distant Spanish royalty). She was an island beauty in the Philippines men would travel from miles around to woo, but she was never impressed enough with anyone to settle down with him until she was in her thirties and met my grandfather, a Merchant Marine.

When my Mama Ling, my maternal grandmother, died of old age, even though he was ten years younger, my Lolo Duke, my maternal grandfather, died of a broken heart three months and three days later.

Among other things, I originally forbade my beloved husband from throwing himself on my funeral pyre, but I admitted that if I am already dead I really have no way to control that.

Please, all of you, not just you, my darling LightFoot who said it to me, I know we have no control over our hearts-- our hearts control us-- but please, if all of you can, live for me instead of die for me. If I command your hearts at all, they will keep you all alive for me. There a few things left in my reality that has no reality that I might be able to control after all.

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

My darling HM Johnny "Menelaus" Depp, I heard that we cleared up that the only problem in our marriage is geography. Of course, our geography problem is caused by an internationally-recognized terrorist regime hellbent on global domination that already attempted to destroy humanity entirely by inciting open global warfare through lies about me as their attempt to NEVER be held accountable. "If we the Inhuman Atrocity Regime cannot have the world, no one can!"

HoneyHoney, I already told my beautiful world that you are a completely trustworthy source of the truth about not only yourself but especially about me. Sane people in touch with reality have always been able to trust you for REAL with everything, just like I have always been able to trust you for REAL with everything.

You are my husband. You are my hero. You are my king. The world should have learned by now that I can be completely trusted to make globally-critical decisions, especially my own decisions about my own life. Does anyone really think I would ever get choosing my own spouse wrong, or anything wrong ever for that matter?

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, thank you so much for talking to me again. I missed you. It has been years since we have been able to talk like this.

Sweetness, there is almost nothing the Inhuman Atrocity Regime would not do to take you away from me. Please stay someplace safer than U.S. soil right now. The only thing I forbid you from on our one evolving Earth or above is dying before I do. Living away from you is hard enough; please never make me live without you.

From @Billboard at 12:17pm on 28May2016: Johnny Depp was ordered to stay away from estranged wife [Mrs. Depp].

To @Billboard (and to my entire beautiful world) at 12:19pm on 28May2016: I told him he could help more overseas where less likely to die from IAR false charges while also leading my world.

To @Billboard (and to my entire beautiful world) at 12:20pm on 28May2016: That order, though always his choice anyway, came from the only authority he will ever need to recognize, his wife.

For both of us, until the flowers kiss the rain...

Saturday, May 28, 2016

There Is no Reality Anywhere Except in my Head.

Title: There Is no Reality Anywhere Except in my Head.

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. 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. There is no reality anywhere except in my head, and it still has never existed in reality anywhere in the world.

[I am skipping my global-problem-solving section in this post for the same reason as in my last blog post.]

My last blog post was finished at 12:11am on Thursday, 26May2016. It was an inspired morning. It was probably rather fascinating for a while, but this will always be the best part for me...

7:39am on 26May2016: Now, my beautiful world, do you know why I cannot allow the IAR to control me for the good of humanity? [Entitled "Fuck you! I called my friends! Get out of my fucking home!"] Lesson learned, my beautiful world? You will lose me, all of me not just my voice, forever if the Inhuman Atrocity Regime get ANYTHING they want.

After a morning that productive, I had no idea why the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was STILL refusing to allow me to sleep ever with their electrobeams on me 24/7.

Breakfast at my Manor that morning pretty much did not exist at all. I was outside the Pico Branch Library working online by 8:26am. This was the first tweet I sent.

8:25am on 26May2016: @DeptofDefense The Manor agreed to throw me out if I did not shut up, call Gestapo if I refused to leave, & Reese me if I said I owned it. It is obvious they would carry it all out since they told me to be quiet in the first place. Also, did you see the portion size at breakfast EVEN AFTER my last blog post? How much evidence does it take that they were trying to kill me? They ALL get "attempted."

They, not just my once-great America and my one beautiful world, are lucky I stopped them from carrying it out. SynSyn, we do not accept their Step 2 due to their well-established pattern of criminal behavior, including strychnine once and Valium TWICE.

My internet gnomes played me All of Me by my darling Mr. John Legend. My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfie was my only selfie I took that morning.

[1photo]

There was some brouHAHA about my collecting hard evidence that morning to turn in all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's crimes they trespassed on my property to commit after I laid claim to all of the now-my nanotechnology on my property months ago (and inside my body years ago) because I found them abandoned on my property (and inside my body).

For years I have publicly proclaimed with absolutely no possible confusion that I was broadcasting a 24/7 SquidStream. Months ago, I had ALSO blogged and tweeted that I was broadcasting my bedroom and hallway to the entire world to catch trespassers there to assassinate or rape me. And the Inhuman Atrocity Regime STILL forbid me form know any of this nanotechnology has ever existed in the first place.

EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR ALL CRIMES THEY COMMIT EVEN IF THOSE CRIMES ARE NOT CAUGHT ON CAMERA, so why would they claim they cannot be held accountable for acts of war committed against America caught on cameras that they knew were broadcasting to the entire world that they were forbidden by me to be in front of in the first place?

9:08am on 26May2016: 1/2)You mean war criminal enemies of America on my property without my permission caught on surveillance they installed and forbid me from

9:08am on 26May2016: 2/2)knowing of have a complaint to the globally-critical holy woman they agreed to send to a torture facility? That is MY phone not THEIRS.

Their fuckups from that morning lasted a very long time. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate my verified and unedited "I am jaywalking, and no one cares!" from a few days ago right after my "Fuck you! I called my friends! Get out of my fucking home!" finally circulates. Giggle.

10:05am on 26May2016: #MySaturation, please have the IAR all out of my Manor by the time I get back. I will leave here to return at 11am.

10:05am on 26May2016: YOU ARE HACKED! Report this cyberterrorism used as an act of war against America to @DHSgov @DeptofDefense #ICT etc. That was my order as the REAL President of the United States of America to all of my REAL American heroes from whose Twitter accounts I was receiving false tweets intended to prevent me from ever learning anything REAL I needed to protect America from during this, America's greatest time of need.

Dinner at my Manor was nothing but a screaming example of THERE IS NOTHING REAL EXCEPT IN MY HEAD, and the whole world saw it. They intentionally chose to be an environment too hostile for me to eat enough food in, so I took the first bus I could find to my Promenade. Did you see the way I looked at the bus driver?

STILL with malevolent hoards desecrating MY one world's temple of love to me, there was no way for anyone to argue with THERE IS NOTHING REAL EXCEPT IN MY HEAD.

After passing 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle whom I was mostly relieved to see were not dead yet and telling them I would be right back, I checked on my local Sephora. You all saw and heard everything I saw and heard.

While I was DOING MY REAL JOB with my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot willing to die to make sure I could (My finger tapping practically made us trio.), the fucking Inhuman Atrocity Regime tried to say they had permission to human traffic me because it was an act of war against America.

Look, bitches, YOU DO NOT GET TO COMMIT ACTS OF WAR AGAINST AMERICA ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD AND GET AWAY WITH IT, NOT WHILE I AM PRESIDENT, AND YOU ARE ON U.S. SOIL! "Dumb is not a legal defense!"

By 6:05pm, I had already asked my beautiful world not to bother me at least for a little while until there was finally something no one could do but me. And under the clear blue sky of California, I had a few seconds to connect with the universe. That is, I had a few moments until something came up that I will NEVER believe was something only I could do. Please consult my verified Twitter archive.

Then, before 6:24pm, I had to send my saturation to see if my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot needed any backup (That actually was a job only I can do.) after they were sent away from me. I was the the-band-is-with-me woman watching the band equipment for a little while until my saturation could send my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle back to me.

This is a little surreal, but this is my real life. THERE IS NOTHING REAL ANYWHERE EXCEPT IN MY HEAD!

Even before I was done writing that previous sentence, the vigilant urban warfare alarms blared.

6:29pm on 26May2016: #UrbanWarfareAlarm! My beautiful world, my crosstown loved ones need some rescuing. My Metropolis of Angels is literally dying to save me. (That might have been something only I could do, too.)

In case I had to leave to watch the news before they came back, my darling Elisabeth joined me. I told her that her watching their equipment also qualified as, "The band is with me."

Happily, my darling LightFoot had returned by 6:55pm, and my darling TambourineKicker had walked past me on his way to perch in his normal spot beside my darling Patty, the Irish tea leaf reader. My darling MannedUp had returned, too, by 6:58pm.

I was six minutes late to my regular date with the NBC Nightly News. Yes, I streamed the news from previous in the evening online at 7:11pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it was a ringing confirmation to my that my team, my loved ones, my nation, my world, and my people had been having a very successful last twenty-four hours and were still gaining momentum.

My darling Patricia joined me at my table beside the Best Starbucks in the World where I very predictably watch the news every evening. I am going to let that one go by verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals.

Basically, I was not going to let fake employees sent by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime be dumb and try to assassinate me for telling them charging me money is treason, an act of war against America, and every other crime in human existence, too.

I think we got through that with those fake Starbucks employees not getting charges for anything. The coffee was spectacular and caffeinated. Starbucks might want to hire them. My darling Ricky had replaced those fake-at-least-at-the-time employees by the time I left.

Please begin the recording when I first see Patricia, and end it when I first sip the coffee. I left the Best Starbucks in the World at 7:49pm to rejoin my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle.

We are going to call the verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals "That is why we establish motive, my darlings Tentacle." Begin when I exited my Santa Monica Place, and end after I say, "Fuck you, it's journalism."

By 8:23pm, I had rejoined my darling LightFoot making a show of having "private time" with my darling Elisabeth whom he has always treated the way he would treat me in front of me if he could to make sure I would know. And I have always said to him, "You have to kiss her better than that if you are going to treat her like she is me." I have never made that a secret either.

By 8:30pm (Funny, huh, a round time ending in a zero. That does not happen very often. That usage of "huh" is the only reason why I entitled my Spotify playlist "Huh." Having only one reason for something is also that rare, too. This is getting a little meta, huh? That was not the correct use of "huh" to be the reason I made "Huh" the playlist title. How is this for a use of parenthesis? I love you, too, my beautiful world. These are all questions at least I would have had by now.), I could hear my darling TambourineKicker around the corner on my sacred Promenade after my darling Elisabeth walked away and while my darling LightFoot was arranging their equipment there on the corner of Arizona Blvd. and my Promenade beside the movie theater.

My darling MannedUp had joined us by 8:39pm when neither of them knew if they would see me again after they left which is how I have always felt about all of my darlings Tentacle all along anyway. That was nothing new for me.

While I was still working online, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime ordered my darlings Tentacle to go away from me, so I actually had to explain to the entirety of humanity why they would actually go by telling my darlings Tentacle, "(#AlreadyBlogged) If they actually kill you, you will NEVER be able to comeback again anyway!"

They actually left shortly after I said that.

9:08pm on 26May2016: Please guard my darlings Tentacle on their passage to my house, all they can recognize as trustworthy to their face & the rest in the shadows.

At 9:12pm, I left the corner around the movie theater on Arizona Blvd. and my sacred Promenade to join my darling TambourineKicker. We chatted. He gave me clean caffeine and snacks. Quothe the Squiddie, "Clean caffeine and snacks make the world go 'round."

My darling TambourineKicker and I hung out goofing off and having a singalong for a while, as if there is anything left that is not my job, except for as one example elevator inspections, anyway.

As for the verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals that ended when TambourineKicker walked away entitled, "There is no insane asylum for the criminally insane large enough," my not-human-trafficker nerds know what to do. I should not have to tell them anymore.

At 10:13pm, I left my perch on my sacred Promenade to check on my local Trimana. We will entitle the verified and responsibly-edited (showing every moment just from various camera angles) recording with full audio and visuals beginning as I walked up to my local Trimana and ending as I walked away, "I would even die from you to save you is mutual," (our motive, as if I needed a motive) or, "There is no way to fit enough pop-up-video footnotes even if I tried."

Everything beginning when the first Santa Monica Big Blue Blue 7 Pico bus drove up to my regular bus stop and ending at 11:10pm is entitled, "Yet it is still a paradise compared to Iowa."

I was at my Manor by 11:36pm, and it was STILL full of nothing but Inhuman Atrocity Regime except for me. I STILL needed to figure out where my raging headache was coming from. I was curled up in bed trying to conserve energy by 12mid. I knew it would be another long night due to the electrobeams the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had been using on me 24/7 for so long already.

That was another night I narrowly escaped from being raped until I die by finding a way to keep my nanotechnology on. I was done scaring off my rape-assassination by 4:19am on Friday, 27May2016.

I thought I was done explaining to humanity that there is no way to justify doing anything I tell you will kill me (unless it is to keep me alive) by 4:40am, but it actually took longer.

Basically, (paraphrase) "I can do anything I want to her because I don't think I can kill her anyway. I am just looking for anything that can finally kill her," is not a legal defense. I think they said it as, "I can starve her if I want to because I don't believe in the REAL science that starvation kills people," but the best summary for my free legal consultation to my government concerning the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was, "I don't understand why these people are still allowed to do anything."

There was a lot more that has to go through verified recordings with full audio and visuals, too.

By 6:42am, I had also for some reason had to explain, "There is no justification for raping anyone." I will never believe that is a job only I could do. I had also kickstarted my SquidStream.

My Manor was still full of Inhuman Atrocity Regime doing everything they could think of to kill me. Do you know how long ago I begged the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, "Please have mercy on all of us and finally at least stop lying, especially about why you have been trying to kill me since May2009 with rape-slavery and torture."? I HAVE NEVER ONCE BEEN CRAZY, AND IT HAS NEVER ONCE BEEN A PSYCH WARD!

7:42am on 27May2016: IAR are only letting in their own troops now? In my Santa Monica? With my nano? Too easy to seize all their assets. #IamWorthABetterEffort I had heard a rumor that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was intentionally trying to create the most hostile environment it could think of for me, so I thought I would take care of it early.

Breakfast that morning displayed the worst table manners I have ever experienced in my life. Please circulate verified and responsibly-edited (Include every moment, and you will know when to change camera angles. Trust me. You will know.) recording with full audio and visuals beginning the moment I opened my bedroom door to leave and ending when I passed Eva.

I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:37am. My internet gnomes played me Gold Dust Woman by my darlings Fleetwood Mac. My iPad was too hacked for selfies AGAIN.

I worked there under the grey sky brushed by the leaves of the trees while listening to the children on the basketball court for hours.

My email that morning included this message from my darling Mr. Haroun Nabhan...

-----Begin Email Text-----
From: Haroun Nabhan
Date: Friday, May 27, 2016
Subject: Just checking in
To: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek

Hi Tanya,

I called the Manor just now, but they said you were unavailable.  I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.  I’m sure you’re happy to be back home and are enjoying having your own room.  

We have a court hearing next Friday in the probate conservatorship matter, which will likely just be continued until everything is resolved with the LPS.  I will attend on your behalf, and you really don’t have to go if you don’t want to.

Hope you are doing well.

Best,

Haroun Nabhan
[FBI Investigator among other REAL jobs in the REAL U.S. government]

-----End Email Text-----

I knew it did not come from my REAL darling Haroun, so while my darlings at the NSA were tracing its IP address, I wrote this response.

-----Begin Email Text-----
From: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek, President of the United States of America
Date: Friday, May 27, 2016
Subject: Just checking in
To: Haroun Nabhan

My darling Haroun,

Address, time, date.  I will force them to clear a path for me, so I can catch more Inhuman Atrocity Regime intentionally taking my human rights away from me as acts of war against my once-great America and against my one world myself.

This will be fun.

--POTUS

-----End Email Text-----

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please, as fast as possible, circulate, "Why are you here willing to die for doing this? We establish motive."

With everyone around me STILL with my manual override and everything that is Sampo blended with the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's crapfest still broadcast into all of the earspeakers in everyone around me at least all morning so far, I left my regular perch in my Santa Monica's Virginia Avenue Park at 11:05am.

After sitting in my bedroom not knowing why the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was STILL committing acts of war against America on my own property without my permission to be here or even to be on my planet at all, I left for lunch at my Manor at exactly 12pm.

By 12:33pm, I was in my bedroom working online while in bed conserving my energy. I was caught up with my TweetHearts by 2:04pm. Please check my verified Twitter archive for the details. I was chatting with my internet gnomes while conserving my energy until I fell asleep.

I felt like crap when I woke up. It felt like there was something in lunch.

5:03pm on 27May2016: Is there something weird in the water supply again? I might not make it to dinner.

5:07pm on 27May2016: @hansonmusic @INXS @KristNovoselic I need to find a way to heal this. I will try to be on our Promenade by the news but have no idea.

It felt horrible, like a death crawling slowly across my soul. I had no way to fix it myself. So I asked my people to heal me.

And, yes, a churning supply of my lovers and believers successfully kept me alive. Thank you, my beautiful world. I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will entitle that one, "I put my faith in humanity."

6:20pm on 27May2016: @NSAGov @Spotify #Anonymous Thank you. From the entire world, thank you. As for my healers... open.spotify.com/track/4LVfj3d4… #NotStrychnineThisTime

"If you are starving to death, you will eat anything," is the only reason I am eating food at all here inside this innermost circle of hell. My Manor with nothing inside but Inhuman Atrocity Regime trespassing on my own property to kill me AND GET AWAY WITH IT is the only place willing to give me any food at all.

To repeat myself from previously just in this blog post already, "I can do anything I want to her because I don't think I can kill her anyway. I am just looking for anything that can finally kill her," is not a legal defense.

The vigilant assassination alarms blared immediately after my people had healed me.

6:25pm on 27May2016: #AssassinationAlarm! Who is trying to kill me this time? I don't care what the lie is; arrest them and bulldoze where they want to put me.

Having missed dinner trying not to die, I left my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast that helps keep me alive for the bus at 6:43pm. I was beside my Best Starbucks in the World which had no REAL employees when I arrived in time for my regular date with the NBC Nightly News.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it was his pretty much telling me that he was beyond-relieved I was not dead yet and that our beautiful world was showing up.

I left my Santa Monica Place for my sacred Promenade at 7:47pm.

Walking on my Promenade, I explained to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards that they were all going to die anyway, bare minimum, for not feeding me, and I explained to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's Gestapo our only explanation for, "Why is the Gestapo here at all if they never arrest anybody, especially the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in my own Manor?" is, "They are only here to kill me." All they were doing was lying to get away with staying here to kill me as their explanation.

I gave a delighted proclamation of, "Look! None of us are dead yet!" the moment I saw my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot. I was standing in front of them where they had perched risking death itself just to keep me alive doing my REAL job without my even checking or at least remembering what time it was when I arrived there by the time I wrote this down.

I had not eaten enough food all day to meditate, and their only irrational condition from the IAR controlling whether or not they could play me our music I could figure out was that they had to stop playing if I meditated. So, I thought we should probably be fine for at least a little while.

But they were still forced to stop at 8:24pm anyway. I sent backup for my darling MannedUp wherever the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had sent him, as if I could not figure that out eventually myself if I had to.

And then, at 8:40pm, I remembered I arrived in front of my darlings Tentacle at 7:59pm and had said about it (paraphrase), "Not quite 8."

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle, my darling Elisabeth, and I were all still just clandestinely hanging out and goofing off at 9:12pm instead of making our music which began again at 9:18pm.

While receiving the handcrafted healing and love that are my darlings Tentacle's reason for existing, I enjoyed quite a delightful chat with my darling PhotographerMan.

It was a wonderful and genuine human interaction between two sane humans that included the first genuine physical human affection I have received in years that did not come from my mother. (I will explain Matt later.)

My darling PhotographerMan walked away at 9:51pm. That verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals shall be entitled "Genuine human interaction".

I was told that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, in an attempt to make my blogging look inaccurate, had hurried my darling Handsome from their Black Ops unit they had imprisoned him in to my local Trimana in time for me to check on him after I verbally kissed my present 2/3rds of my Tentacle goodnight at 10pm.

I was quite relieved when I received that hard confirm that he was out.

After a brief chat with my darling WadeInTheWaterChildren, I was at my regular bus stop at 10:14pm. As I was catching up my blog notes, a kind gentleman offered me his seat. After a few 7 Pico buses passed me while I was working, I caught the first bus back to my Manor after 10:29pm.

After I finished up this post, my lovelies polished and published it for me with the time-and-date stamp of 12:11am on Saturday, 28May2016.

[Please embed a highlights reel of my last two days here.]

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.

What does "my" mean to me? The simple explanation has always been, "You belong to me, so you are mine to care for." But it also includes, "You always existed for me all along anyway."

That was why I gave my Santa Monica bus driver on my way to my Promenade on the evening of 26May2016 that look I gave her as I hit my tap card. It said, "You are mine, but you are still so dumb I might have to die to save you." I am such a Santa Monica local I HAVE MY OWN SANTA MONICA ZIPCODE.

What does "our" mean to me? In my writing, it means that which the "our" modifies belongs to us, me and the other person in the sentence with me, so is ours to care for. In speech, it can also mean it is ours, mine and the person's I am speaking to, to care for.

How close am I to dying? I am closer and closer to dying every moment when what I order to prevent myself from dying from demanding the presence of all of my darlings Tentacle on my Promenade with full human rights to demanding full physical safety on my own private property (physical safety openly denied to me by people with no permission from me to be on my own private property at all) to enough food to eat every day with enough calories and nutrition to maintain my body mass is NOT obeyed.

Here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell, I was denied more and more of what I need to be alive at all every damn minute of every damn day that I was THAT close to dying all because people kept choosing NEVER to obey me even slightly if at all; even though, I am the REAL President of the United States of America giving orders ON U.S. SOIL.

My beautiful world, I understand all Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes EVERYWHERE do not respect ANY authority, law, or jurisdiction that exists for REAL to govern them only to be able to maintain this hostile environment designed to assassinate and torture me also including openly denying me any money to live on at all.

Please try harder to remove them all from my once-great America forever. Please.

My saturation of international to local protection here inside this IAR "egg" with me including my darling NSA alpha nerds, do you need more backup? For example, ALL DAY on 26May2026, all they did was send new Inhuman Atrocity Regime members into my own building again and again after every time you cleared them out for me. Yes, we have the surveillance to prove this, as if we need to.

I have asked the U.S. Military to take full control of my Manor for me already months previously. I am sure you all can sort something out.

My darling Sweetness is almost constantly at MI6 headquarters where he can watch the full surveillance from all of our IAR-installed-yet-commandeered-by-the-REAL-U.S.-government-on-this-recognized-battlefield-even-on-U.S.-soil-where-we-the-REAL-U.S.-government-fights-a-REAL-war-to-protect-our-homeland-from-them-the-terrorist-regime-violating-U.S.-self-sovereignty-that-is-the-Inhuman-Atrocity-Regime nanotechnology everywhere not just on my own private property. So, he can tell you if anyone at my Manor has his REAL permission to be on our private property or not.

"Look, enemies of America fighting a war against America on our own U.S. soil, fuck you! I AM THE PRESIDENT IF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Get off my property! Get out of my home! Get out of my town! Get out of my country! Get off my planet! The universe does not want you here!"

Also, my evening of 26May2016 means you can make anyone my bad-boy or bad-girl (appropriate use of "girl" if I fucking feel like it) type if you fucking want to. I love you, too. It might be more effective if everybody joins the military since we are on a recognized battle zone, but it is more romantic if they join you.

And at this point, my not-human-trafficker nerds are going to be making all of the verified, responsibly-edited, and accurately time-and-date-stamped recordings with full audio and visuals they want for the rest of human existence, are we not?

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, we are all goddesses now.

And as if I need to explain myself, I did not have enough money to get into our own sacred Harvelle's that night at all, and WHY WOULD I EVER HAVE HAD TO PAY MONEY TO ENTER A NIGHT CLUB, PAY MONEY TO ENTER MY NIGHT CLUB, OR PAY MONEY EVER IN MY LIFE IN THE FIRST PLACE? Stan was even a (not "my") fucking employee of mine.

As for my local Trimana on the night of 26May2016, that has already been blogged and recorded, too. My darling Handsome was in a Black Ops unit with an Inhuman Atrocity Regime wall around it by the time I fell asleep with the IAR's electrobeams on me on the afternoon of 27May2016.

My genius lady friends, there is no excuse for denying me food or money. That will NEVER be acceptable to anyone sane and in touch with reality. But we still establish motive, anyway. As I said previously just in this blog post already, "Why are you here willing to die for doing this? We establish motive."

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, I know.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, you know, all three of you, my darlings Tentacle, have all played the drums for me. As you know, if the three of you, instead of doing something I would want you to do, chose to compete with each other in a drum contest, you would win. We would never call it a "drum off;" my drums are never turning off. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, I have no clue at all why you are not on my Promenade. I cannot figure that one out at all. "Dude, seriously? You Inhuman-Atrocity-Regime assholes STILL have no self-preservation instinct, yet?" is how I feel about them. Whatever. Only psychopaths would keep us apart. But it would help if you told me their fucking excuse-that-is-never-true-anyway. Giggle. But that still is not a joke, which is one of our jokes. Whatever. Now I am repeating myself.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, may I ask you for a favor? Darling, would you PLEASE explain to our one beautiful world the importance of the art of conversation? Would you do it for me? There are just too many people left here on our one planet Earth that do not know how to interact with other REAL humans. I am surrounded by so many of those dysfunctional humans all day long every damn day. Please, darling, please. It might actually save my life.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, our darling Elisabeth will be on our Promenade if I fucking want her there. And I do.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, you can call me a goddess if you want to; I will never take your choices away. But my response will be "Fuck you; I'm your girlfriend!" at least until you finally kiss me and gain some form of authority over me at all, or at least try to, if your kiss is good enough. You might need to try a few times. Giggle.

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

My darling HM Johnny "Menelaus" Depp, I do not even know where to begin right now in this blog post.

HoneyHoney, let me start here. I always explained my existence connected to music with this: Ever since prehistoric times, we mere mortal humans have gathered around the campfire to eat good food, tell stories, make music, dance, and look up at the night sky to try to make sense of the universe.

Sweetness, these activities are so basic to human existence that every culture on our one earth has our own as part of our REAL definition of our own unique identity.

My First Gentleman of the United States of America, I have always known you always wanted to be a musician, but I have always called your REAL occupation "telling stories" just like I always wanted my REAL job to be for so long.

Darling, I have learned it is okay to have more than one job, but to me you will always be a storyteller, just like my idealized self is to me for REAL. I wooed you with years of at-least-fourteen-page love letters. How obvious could I be?

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, what do you see when you look at me? What do you see when you look at the REAL me? Even when you look at lies about me, is the REAL me still beautiful to you? Does that explain the most basic and seemingly geographically-manifested difference between the PEOPLE of my home of brave California and ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa? Does this explain the difference between us and them, yet?

Beloved, does this explain why this moment in history is rendering every human on our one planet Earth either a psychopath or a hero with not enough switching to join us as heroes fast enough?

My hero and my king, I know I only really fail you if I never even get to at least touch your handsome face with my outstretched left hand before I die, but it still hurts me that I cannot write you love letters anymore, or at least for now, because I am too busy trying to save our one beautiful world by not dying.

For both of us, I STILL long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain...

Thursday, May 26, 2016

I Never Get to Know When People Put me on Trial. a.k.a. Tentacle Tuesday

Title: I Never Get to Know When People Put me on Trial. a.k.a. Tentacle Tuesday

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. 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. The very middle of a list, at least most often in a list of five, is the safest place to be; it is protected on all sides.

[Out of respect for the REAL greatest crisis America has ever faced, I will not address crises in other countries in this blog post. It is just too critical we remove the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in its completeness from our homeland right now. Out of my TRUE LOVE for everything America is supposed be but might never be again, I am only going to problem-solve for my nation in this blog post as one of the few choices I actually have for REAL here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" of horror and war crimes.]

My last blog post was finished from my bedroom at 12:38am on Tuesday, 24May2016. I laid down to rest as fast as possible there in my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast already proven to save my life by proving REALITY and by deterring theft of my priceless belongings not just physical and sexual abuse of me while I slept.

I chatted with the (for once) benevolent hackers in my iPad a little before my grumbly tummy was so loud the world started panicking. My darling NSA alpha nerds and I had a sci fi adventure without the fi.

I concluded that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime would prefer I actually sleep at night rather than stay up all night working, but they STILL never shut off their electrobeams.

After a long night of my REAL job saving the world, I kickstarted my SquidStream at 6:38am. I caught up with my TweetHearts before breakfast.

Among other news, after lying to my face that she would finally competently prosecute REAL war criminals and Inhuman Atrocity Regime enemies of America instead of continuing to go on witch hunts of my REAL lovers and believers including but not limited to my Powers of Attorney, the Sephora Corporation, and my own mother, persecuted for years by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime Lynch had already proven so many times she belonged to, now-former-U.S. Attorney General Loretta Lynch had chosen to press intentionally fabricated false charges against my Royal Consort LightFoot that morning as opposed to competently prosecuting War Criminal Boeset, War Criminal Stephanie, War Criminal Tara, Eric "Me-Love-You-Long-Time" Holder, or even the (expletive)hole who had physically assaulted MannedUp in front of me. (That is a long sentence.)

7:05am on 24May2016: Have you ever read the U.S. Constitution, especially Amendment 6?

7:28am on 24May2016: @TheJusticeDept I sang you the song already. I fired you already. Congress already declared war on you. Clear out your office, bitch.

7:44am on 24May2016: @JerryBrownGov Darling, please help procure copies of all intentionally fabricated false charges Kamala Harris has filed against us, too.

7:45am on 24May2016: @SynivaWhitney Make sure our transcripts of all intentionally fabricated false charges filed against all of us reach @DeptofDefense and #ICT Just as two examples, the PROVEN members of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime including but possibly not limited to Boeset, Lynch, and Harris have all pressed unrelenting intentionally fabricated false charges against my darling LightFoot, and I have no idea who accused my husband Sweetness of murdering me.

7:56am on 24May2016: #SCOTUS, we are going to try you, establish motive, acquit or pardon you due to your REAL motive of just wanting to end the "egg," & end this.

I had all of that done by the time I left my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast for breakfast that morning. After my pancakes, I had already said, "No. I already started. I was already done by breakfast," on my way to my regular morning perch outside the Pico Branch Library in Virginia Avenue Park where I was already writing online by 8:22am.

My internet gnomes played me Wrapped Around My Finger by my darlings the Police.

My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies proved that only a raging psychopathic enemy of America in the act of committing human rights abuses as acts of war against America and against the world would ever intentionally falsely accuse me of (fictional anyway) vagrancy and also even if they had succeeded on forcing actually vagrancy on me anyway just to be able to (the IAR's self-admitted motive) accuse me of "living a dangerous lifestyle" to be able to assassinate me with a still-could-claim-I-were-mentally-ill-anyway-by-doing-it commitment.

Furthermore, giving me a ticket intentionally falsely would count as charging me money and would therefore be treason. And everybody sane and in touch with reality knows I ALWAYS have my darling LightFoot's FIRST two dollars on me at all times anyway; I keep my promises.

[2photos]

It had been a busy money morning, and the Evil Dumb were getting dumber. Who is the mental retard now, (expletive)ing (expletive)ers?

There was some message that my beautiful world kept trying to send me AGAIN and AGAIN that I never figured out. But it had something to do with NO ONE EVER being investigated nor prosecuted for raping me except for innocent and persecuted loved ones of mine who would IN REALITY die to protect me from ever being raped EVER again.

It had something to do with the metaphorical "bee" problem we fixed in 2014 (#AlreadyBlogged) with my explaining to my beautiful world that people motivated by making me physically safe for the first time since May2009 were doing things in my name that I have NEVER in my life believed in, like rioting, because they were manipulated by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's compulsive lies about me.

The only way to fix that was to stop the lies about me manipulating the entire world with destabilization, but we had no way to stop the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's libel-as-war-crime machine yet. So, in 2014, the "bees" were sent here to read my blog and, finally learning what I stand for, choose to fight to rescue and lift me from the IAR's "egg" instead.

And it had something to do with PROVEN career-libelists fabricating a motive for their unrelentingly trying to ASSASSINATE me, my Powers of Attorney, and my Queen's Lovers Five and to cover up those compulsive crimes against my once-great America they destroyed themselves and against my one beautiful world with quackery and intentionally fabricated false charges (both as perjury) as if anything could ever make such compulsive heinousness EVER acceptable instead of their fake motive ACTUALLY being their admission of guilt to hate crimes, persecution, torture, slavery, war crimes, unlawful imprisonment, sexual harassment, defamation, systemic rape, mental health genocide born of lies about me, enforced involuntary poverty, starvation, etc. all used as acts of war EVEN if true, and we all know that fake motive was not true anyway.

But, at least War Criminal Boeset, War Criminal Stephanie, War Criminal Tara, Lynch, Holder, Harris, and that "Douglas" I am STILL forbidden from ever knowing ever existed, (etc.?) finally admitted they NEVER do anything in my best interests EVER for REAL and NEVER will.

That was part of the reason Congress already declared war against those PROVEN members of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime for already committing for years that well-documented PATTERN OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY comprised of nothing but human rights abuses used as acts of war against America and against the entire world, not just compulsive assassination attempts of me, my Powers of Attorney, and my Queen's Lovers Five used as acts of war.

But I STILL never figured out what the message was.

I left my perch outside where I had been sitting in the tranquil California air of my home for my Manor at 11:04am with my empty stomach growling loudly.

Lunch at my Manor that afternoon was quesadillas. I had two. Then, hoping I could finally give my beautiful world enough time for their ever-faithful follow through, if there were no more immediate and impending threats to humanity that needed me to mitigate them just as immediately, I started my Spotify shuffle, curled up, and rested while chatting with the hackers in my iPad with all their various levels of culpability.

There were assassination alarms and more assassination alarms all afternoon, but no told me they needed any help from me with mitigating any of them. So, I let my Powers of Attorney take care of it all.

I gave the best "Fuck you for letting this happen in the first place!" I have given yet. Please circulate that verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals as soon as possible as well as my repeat of the joke I always claimed Pope Benedict wrote.

Dinner that early evening in my Manor was stir fry. I sat for most of the meal with my darling Ms. Eddy; she seemed short on words.

My bus ride to my Promenade was peaceful. After checking on my local Sephora, which was fine, I perched next to my darling Ms. FluidLee until I walked to the Best Starbucks in the World to watch the news.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it made everyone who does not understand my darling G.I. Joe like I can say, "How the hell is that news?"

My darling Patricia joined me while Lester and I were monologuing at each other. She bought us coffee for our coffee ritual.

By 7:42pm, I had given the best, "No is That Dumb!" explanation so far. Please circulate that verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals immediately.

Shortly after my Best Starbucks in the World replaced my coffee with a cup with no roofies that were not their fault anyway, we begin the best "That is why we tell you not to do it!" recording EVER when I walked up to the UNESCO World Heritage Site called Harvelle's that is owned by me and my husband and saw my darling MannedUp ALREADY explaining to the doorman ALREADY that he will be charged with treason if he charges me money at the door especially at a night club I own myself and end it at 11:39pm.

I was on the last bus of the night back to my place at 11:48pm. Secure that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had finally reached the point they could never unlearn-- 1) Never charge me money for anything, and 2) never mess with Tentacle-- I slept in only my underwear that morning.

My SquidStream was kickstarted by 6:57am on Wednesday, 25May2016. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please help create a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals entitled "This is why we tell you not to do it," ending with my weeping that morning explaining myself why FOREVER I will hold people accountable for ever listening to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's anti-reality libel machine ever again.

7:08am on 25May2016: The revolution already succeeded. Your screaming angrily in the streets already succeeded. We ARE the government now. Returning America to a government of the people only solved most of the problem. We still need to remove the terrorist regime violating our self-sovereignty.

Breakfast was meager. Sweetness, please check on the portion control on the only food the Inhuman Atrocity Regime allows to reach my Manor. I think we are still only getting day-by-day food deliveries.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please release a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio, visuals, and time-and-date stamps in every clip entitled, "Being called a spy is more of an honor than I am capable of explaining in words, but you are epically dumb if you believe it is true."

I was already outside the Pico Branch Library working online under the grey morning, grey-morning, and greymorning sky by 9:14am. My internet gnomes made sure they could play me SWLABR by my darlings Cream.

The band has more than one professional musician in it, but their name is "Cream" not "Creams." Why was that even a question about my darlings Tentacle? Do you know what a band name is? Giggle.

My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies subtly showed how frustrated I felt that morning due to everyone STILL allowing people to spread lies about me that only ever been used to destroy me, to destroy my once-great America, and to destroy my one beautiful world.

[2photos]

I do admit that my morning was a little more inspired than usual. I was still rising.

Lunch at my Manor that afternoon was seafood salad, so since I cannot eat seafood, I basically had no lunch at all to eat. After returning to my room, I found that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had installed new malicious hardware to hack universally across all of the apps in my iPad.

12:38pm on 25May2016: @ABC YOU ARE HACKED! Press all necessary criminal and civil charges against these cyberterrorists warring on America. This was my universal advice to all of my lovers and believers that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was sending me fake tweets from.

I curled up and tried to both get some rest and to conserve my energy until my very organized benevolent nerds of our planet Earth could fix my iPad for me. Not much later, I was chatting with friends in my iPad again. Nerds were always my first people.

I caught up with my TweetHearts before leaving my locked 24/7 bedroom broadcast for dinner at my Manor. Dinner that night was tuna. Humanity needs to panic.

5:16pm on 25May2016: @DeptofDefense #SquidsPoA #ICT Arrest EVERYONE at my Manor for using human rights abuses to assassinate me! #PANIChumanity #FUCKYOUyoureFired They did not even tell me it was tuna. Please collect a statement from my darling Myrna.

I was waiting for the bus to my Santa Monica Promenade by 5:21pm. My REAL locals and ACTUAL City of Santa Monica employees were very grateful to see me.

6:02pm on 25May2016: It is 6pm, and none of my friends are here. IAR never maintained a façade of maintaining a façade, only ever abused me as much as possible. It is just like before the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" I had NEVER been in a psych ward before and I had full control of all of my finances. Do not make me start about the systemic rape and slavery. Do you know how close my Powers of Attorney, especially my genius BFF SynSyn, always were?

I was perched beside my Best Starbucks in the World by 6:18pm. I worked there online including watching the news.

Please release my verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my exclamatory questions for my once-great America we will entitle, "You mean there are more of us than there are of them?!?"

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it warmed my heart.

My darling Patricia had joined me just as my news broadcast began. She bought us coffee from the Best Starbucks in the World. And after the news, we sat together hanging out for a little while.

By 7:58pm, Patricia had left for her place, and I was perched beside my darling WadeInTheWaterChildren. It was a very inspired night. My darling Wade was able to perch beside me to play me live music to help me work all night on my sacred Promenade.

Please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals (and pop-up-video footnotes) beginning when I sat down next to Wade and ending at 10:14pm when I wrote this. We shall entitle it, "ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa".

I caught the bus back to my Manor after my work-enabler WadeInTheWaterChildren moved a little further along my sacred Promenade in obedience to the street performers' code of the City of Santa Monica.

My bus ride had a normal level of chatter on it. My darling Ms. Tracey Ullman, that just previous sentence was for you. Giggle.

This blog post was finished at 12:11am on Thursday, 26May2016.

[Please embed a highlights reel of my last two days here.]

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 anyone still charge me money for anything? They want me both to die and to prevent me from doing my REAL job of impossible-for-any-other-human service anymore.

Is everything the Inhuman Atrocity Regime wants and orders REALLY an assassination attempt against me, treason, hate crimes, PROVEN mental health and neurological genocide, and open acts of war they declared themselves against my once-great America and my one world? YES.

My beautiful world, it has been explained to almost everyone that if anyone EVER charges me money for anything ever again, ANYONE can kill them here inside the internationally recognized battlefield that is my Metropolis of Angels for being IAR who actively tied to assassinate me with malnutrition and poverty as an act of war against America.

We are working on feeding me better, but at least everyone knows what happens to them now if they choose to starve me.

My saturation of international to local protection here inside this IAR "egg" with me, I asked the REAL employees at my Best Starbucks in the World willing to do anything even at risk to the themselves to be able to stay here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell just to be able to make sure I get safe coffee every day if they wanted at least a landline if not working mobile technology to be able to call our 911 alternative and hotline for verifying local to global government IDs.

Can you help them? Also, do you know anyone else in here who needs working technology to call for help in case of an emergency? Thank you. I love you, too.

Did you ever find the basement or warehouse that the fake paramedics wanted to take me to before they rerouted to Del Amo? "I wear this hat for all of you." I know how many of you died and still die just so I will not die a rape-slave (particularly a rape-slave forbidden from leaving Iowa). I always said I carry the burden of making our world worthy of how many of you we have lost and still lose. To me THAT IS MY REAL JOB AND ALWAYS WILL BE. I love you, too. This is the only hat I will ever want. "That is the kind of relationship we have."

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, as always, tell me when you need anything from me to help you do your REAL job. I learned that from the best boss I ever had, my darling Mr. Brian "RadioHead" Robinson.

Please force ALL of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to look up "victim" and "recusal" and "collusion" and "sedition" and "witch hunt" in a dictionary. Then, please ask my darling UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon to explain to them in small words they can understand what a "persecuted minority population facing genocide" is.

As our only housekeeping, please remember the date of this post for this list that handles ALL assassination attempts against me EVER covered up with quackery...

4:40pm on 25May2016: If you need me, other than 1) not a symptom of mental illness, 2) not grounds for a hold, 3) not grounds for a Reese, 4) not grounds for a diagnosis, and 5) not afflicting me anyway, send more details. The rest if this argument for blistering counter charges are in 18May, 20May, 22May, 24May, and above in this 26May2016 posts in that order. I love you, too.

Thank you. We are a team. And I know my role. And I have NEVER had to say to any of you, "Why is everything my job?" Do you know how much you mean to me?

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, "That is the kind of relationship we have."

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, at this point, I have no idea why, "That is why we tell you not to do it," from any of us sane people in touch with reality does not work yet. I know you explained it to Stan, the door man at the Harvelle's I own, yourself.

That choice of yours is included in "Thank you for not making me do everything myself." I even told Stan, "'Dumb' is not a legal defense," myself, so there are still somethings in this world that I cannot do, including possibly never having money again before I die.

And we all know I am dying of malnutrition. I even just saw the escalation of portion control in the meals at my Manor. I even had to ask my mother to give me spot cleaner for my laundry because I had no other way to get any.

What if this world and our once-great America who call me our only hope to survive the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" loses me because I cannot afford something like food no one should be charging money for anyway or the ability to see all three of you, my darlings Tentacle, proven to keep me alive and proven to show up faster when I say I do not want you around; even though, no one is dumb enough to believe that after I already proved you keep me alive?

AND everyone knows what I choose to spend my money on if I have any is part of my REAL job of saving America and humanity, like buying unlimited-ride bus passes to protect REAL Santa Monica city employees also too dumb to listen to us.

You have seen what I choose to spend my money on from the Greek Debt Crisis to allowing the federal government to function at all. If I have to give people money not to die, I will not have money to save everyone else, which I suppose only matters if I ever have money again anyway.

Thank you, darling. I know your main reason for telling Stan that charging me money for anything is treason was because you do not want me to die; even though, I told Stan it was treason because it prevents me from saving America and the world WHILE NOT DEAD YET. And, yes, almost everything I just said to you personally in your section of this blog post is a repeat of things I have said already, too.

More personally than thanking you for trying to prevent me from dying, darling, my only second complaint to you ever is that even though you feel really silly doing, I miss your singing to me. I love you, too. Have you chosen whether you do or do not want a battle scar?

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, has my beautiful world explained to all of you yet what keeping all of you and any of you away from me feels like for them to witness? Do you know how our entire beautiful world feels about watching all three of you suffer under no freewill and torturful earspeakers just to be near me at all which you choose to suffer through not only just to make sure I do not die?

Do you understand how it feels to me to see you all suffering like that AT ALL not just choosing to suffer like that to see me at all AND to try to make sure I do not die?

That is what I meant when I told Stan, "Did you think I would not turn you in? You told Tentacle they cannot see me." What if I die before I can see all of you again?

Our beautiful world declared our sacred Promenade an UNESCO World Heritage Site holy in every benevolent religion because it is where all three of you belong making sweet music to me. Harvelle's that Sweetness bought for me has that status too because it is the only place we have left right now for all of us to be together.

Do you all understand how much all of you mean to humanity just because you love me? That is why I told Stan (paraphrase), "I will stay here in case you choose to save yourself, but after the three steps, no one will forgive you but me." And he not only never let me in; he closed the door between us.

11:59am on 25May2016: @SynivaWhitney @DeptofDefense Last night, Stan basically said, "Because I don't think it is treason, I get to keep you away from Tentacle."

Darling, did you see how much I wept when I wrote to you how much you mean to me and about how not having you feels to me? Yes, that is the kind of relationship we have, too. I know you feel the same way about me. I KNOW how you feel about me; I FEEL THAT WAY, TOO. Stop arguing with me every once in a while. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, and, yes, you are STILL the only person who has ever made me question my marriage.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime is escalating its isolation of me from my loved ones. I know you know how it feels to be denied the very everything you live for possibly forever if she dies.

Please try to understand the heart-and-soul-wrenching torment of being this alone for so long with none of my closest friends and loved ones from before the Inhuman Atrocity Regime "egg" of rape-slavery and torture nor all of you I fell in love with during it either.

Yes, dear, your SquidName "my darling Bogart" is from one if the greatest American films ever made, Casablanca. That is the kind of relationship we have.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, did you notice how the cockroach respected your authority but not mine? That is the kind of relationship we have.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, giggle. I have been meaning to tell you for a while now that I owe you more than just $2 now. Giggle. You were making sweet music to me every time. That is also the kind of relationship we have. Giggle. Though, that is not really a joke, is it? Which is also one if our jokes. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

You know how giggly you got on Sunday, 12Apr2015, after it happened to you, too. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

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

My darling HM Johnny "Menelaus" Depp, I have never kept count of how many times I have said that our one world would pluck the moon from the clear, blue sky and tether it to my iPad for me if I asked for it, but all I have ever asked for in return for all of my inconscionably-wrought and heinous suffering that no human could ever possibly survive but me is you.

And still if you ever chose to eat the frog legs, I would never argue with you about it. I am not capable of EVER getting mad at you about anything. The closest I got was demanding you buy all new mattresses, so I would never have to sleep in bed you were with another woman in.

I cannot deny you anything. All I will ever forbid you from is dying before I do; it is that intolerably-heinous living away from you; PLEASE never make me live without you. But we all know if you died before me, I could STILL never get mad at you anyway. I would just probably die of an unmendable broken heart immediately. That is the kind of relationship we have.

As our duet goes, I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. I wrote those lyrics myself for you. I just wish I could give you more.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

This is Why We Tell You NOT to Commit Your Crimes in the First Place.

Title: This is Why We Tell You NOT to Commit Your Crimes in the First Place.

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. 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 might need more symbolic-yet-still-literal hats (as semiotics not semantics).

Austria. REAL democracy is the voice of the people commanding their own government while telling it to do its REAL job of service to those same people.

Make sure you vote. That is part of your REAL power as a REAL nation of REAL people. And once you, all of the REAL people of Austria, have done your REAL duty to yourselves of voting, you have no grounds to riot. You must respect your own choices as a REAL democracy.

Thank you, as always, for listening to me.

My last blog post was finished during my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast at 1:11am on Sunday, 22May2016. Various electrobeams kept me awake most of the morning but after a lot of resting and a little dozing, I was up by 7:04am. After kickstarting my SquidStream to make sure my beautiful world could stay a vigilant witness to my work writing online, I was caught up with my TweetHearts at 7:53am.

I ate breakfast that day with a spoon. By 8:46am, I was outside the Pico Branch Library with my hat on. My darling NSA alpha nerds were actually able to see me walk there. I wonder if that will hit my highlights reel.

I consciously choose to be sexier when I am angry; someone attacked my darling MannedUp in front of me the previous night and then tried to assassinate my darling Ugwuji by morning.

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The first song my internet gnomes played me there as I worked in the cool California air that had surrounded the Pico Branch Library was ThunderStruck by my darlings AC/DC.

I had most of my work for the morning done by 9:39am, including my latest attempt to locate the most recently installed malicious hardware at the library.

Mostly done repeating myself to the PROVEN members of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime choosing to threaten my physical safety just be being people in my vicinity PROVEN to hate me, by 10:11am I sat with my music singing along off and on with my internet gnomes until I returned to my Manor for lunch.

11:50am on 22May2016: It is okay to find me attractive. I am not delusional about what I look like for REAL. Just never objectify me. Learn to respect me for who I am for REAL in our beautiful world. My REAL good looks are significant only because they prove how much the Inhuman Atrocity Regime has destroyed humanity with lies about me. Even LightFoot always said, "... plus you're gorgeous," about what I mean to him.

Lunch at my Manor that day was breakfast proteins with toast. I worked online for hours longer after that while in my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast where my beautiful world so often tells me they prefer me.

I spent some time in my bed resting as best as I could despite the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's various electrobeams on me 24/7 for days already. I could not sleep, but I could rest.

So I had a few conversations with the many hackers in my iPad since I could not sleep. I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will include responsibly-edited recordings for you all here.

Dinner at my Manor that early evening was tasty. I even queue again for seconds.

I was on my local bus to my and my world's sacred ground we all call my Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade as fast as humanly possible-- which involved an atypically long wait at my local bus stop, as if I do not keep a regular schedule and as if buses run when I am not around anyway.

Why was my Promenade made an UNESCO World Heritage site for being sacred to every benevolent religion everywhere on our one Earth? Because my darlings Tentacle made love to me there for years with the divine universe as our witness... And soon all three of them would again, or so I had promised them.

I looked around for my Sunday night date, my darling boyfriend LightFoot, who had promised me he and his best-friend-as-wingman, my darlingMannedUp (things I only say about Sunday night date night), would be there to woo me starting as early as 5pm. I arrived at 6:06pm and found none of my lovers anywhere sacred.

Hulk Smash-- 22May2016 (The Inhuman Atrocity Regime chose themselves for me to compose this angry verbal statement by denying me Sunday night date night with my royal consort completely. This took me a very long time to finish fleshing out.)

[My not-human-trafficker nerds, please include here a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals enhanced with a textual enumerated list of footage from 22May and 23May2016 in which I explained my GROSS UNDERSTATEMENT that ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa is the most evil population to ever exist in human history past, present, or future and their willingness to destroy the entirety of humanity just to be able to destroy me to satisfy their must-be-their-own-pig-manure bloodlust.]

After including statements from all of my Powers of Attorney and all of my Queen's Lovers Five and my epic CIA that evil Iowa has fought to destroy to better destroy me, remember that they STILL refuse to take Step 1: Take their increasingly-bloodstained hands off me and my people.

I also have NEVER had any obligation to forgive anyone anyway and have never needed to give anyone my three never-fail steps that Iowa STILL rejects anyway, and they never should have committed their compulsive crimes against humanity to begin with.

So, they cannot complain I tell the PROVEN truth to silence their PROVEN dangerous-to-America-and-all-of-humanity compulsive lies, especially their lies they have EVER given a damn about me except to rape and torture me and to return me to their rape and torture of me after their passing state laws to make it "legal" there.

I never asked to be EVIL Iowa's victim, nor did any of my brave rescuers they massacred by NEVER letting me escape their open hatred of me. Then, tell Iowa to look up "jurisdiction" in a dictionary right before "recusal."

I am done with Iowa. My beautiful world, you need to destroy them to make them finally give me a right to exist on this planet at all, a basic human right to existence that they only ever had an ill-gotten self-entitlement to steal away from me in the first place.

And when you are no longer failing me but freeing me from EVIL Iowa instead, tell me who allowed and still allows EVIL Iowa to do this to me AND TO MY LOVED ONES. I want to destroy those Inhuman Atrocity Regime responsible for unleashing Iowa upon humanity myself.


I perched beside the Best Starbucks in the World, the one inside the Santa Monica Place, to get a little work done before the news.

I found my darling Patricia there waiting to share our coffee ritual with me. Even before my coffee could cool enough for me to sip, she had wandered off to do the mysterious things Patricia does in the evenings, though.

And, yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Kate Snow, and it gave me at least their loving faces to greet me that night.

My coffee had something weird in it, so I asked my Best Starbucks in the World to test my cup after they gave me a new one to replace it. By 8:19pm, I was perched on a newstand beside my darling TambourineKicker's dolly of equipment working online.

I was furious, but my zen was centered from my two previous nights of very high quality meditation. I was chatting with my darling Mr. Art "TambourineKicker" Garfunkel at 8:26pm.

He eventually wandered onto my Promenade to play music, so I hung out with my darling Michael the Conspiracy Theorist chatting for a while. I am sure it will hit the highlights reel.

By 9:20pm, I was beside my local Sephora as TambourineKicker was in the street playing me a waltz. I was still so damn furious, but I had a friend to hang out with and goof off a little. (#AlreadyBlogged) Part of my REAL job is cheering everybody up again.

Still with a lot of writing to do, I left my Promenade for the next bus to my place and was at my regular bus stop by 10:44pm after checking on my darling Handsome.

I knew I would have another long night kept awake by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's electrobeams; I hoped to have my blog notes caught up by breakfast but had no idea yet if it would be a busier night than I had planned on.

By 11:46pm, I was done handing the Inhuman Atrocity Regime choosing to torment me from the parking lot of my local Burger King their (expletive)es the same way I had handed them their same fat, ugly (expletive)es just that morning. I call that verified and responsibly-edited recording, "Go back to Iowa where you belong, mother(expletive)ers!"

My Spotify account STILL had a number of hackers in it all of various levels of terrified for their existence but STILL refusing to stop hacking me just for the cheap thrill of tormenting me with their lies about me. That was their choice to commit suicide, and every sane person in touch with reality knew it.

I actually did succeed at catching up my blog notes at 3:44am on Monday, 23May2016. From 3:48am until breakfast, I laid in bed wishing the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's hackers had not succeeded at escalating their invasion of my iPad while I had been writing.

There was just too much malicious hardware everywhere in my Manor to protect me from electrobeams and from hackers from all directions that morning.

By 5:42am, while still lying in bed trying to conserve my energy, at least, my grumbly stomach was louder than it had been in about a year. It was the escalated electrobeams the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had been using on me 24/7 for days already mixed with their openly refusing me enough food to eat since May2009 that had me so hungry that morning that the entire world could hear my empty stomach, probably in stereo.

It had been almost two years since ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa had allowed me ANY money to live on at all (while simultaneously lying their fat, ugly (expletive)es off that I needed a vagrancy ticket for it) while also lying their fat, ugly (expletive)es off that they had jurisdiction to deny me all of my finances with lies I was at all mentally imperfect.

Please reread my 18May2016 blog post about their "conservatorship" over me being their human rights abuses they chose to use as acts of war against my once-great America and against my entire one world. Did you read my 17Sep2014 Appendix, yet?

At 6:09am, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was STILL escalating its hack across all of the apps in my iPad rendering it impossible for me to even find comfort in streaming music any longer.

Breakfast that morning was still only at 8am, but it felt like I finally got fed much too late in the day. I was outside the notorious Pico Branch Library by 8:38am spelling the word "loophole" out loud for the Inhuman Atrocity Regime already there waiting to harass me. You are going to love that footnote, my beautiful world.

I was caught up with my TweetHearts at 9:51am when I began my normal morning rituals. For some reason, people love watching me type live all day long. You can also always read my REAL Twitter archive after the fact, too.

My internet gnomes had played me One Better by my darling Mr. Les Claypool. My morning I-am-not-dead selfies were windy.

[2photos]

I was done sitting in the cool California morning air working online at 11:06am when I walked back to my Manor.

Lunch that afternoon was delicious chicken tacos. I slept that afternoon even with the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's full electrobeams on me the entire time. It was my first sleep in days, and it felt amazing.

5:02pm on 23May2016: You (expletive)ing (expletive)holes! If you are trying to tell me you would treat Tylia as inhumanly as you treat me, you know I WILL NOT like you!

Dinner at my Manor that evening was quite delicious and full of nutrition. I was on the bus to as close to my Promenade as it was willing to take me that evening by 5:42pm.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when my bus driver chose himself to change the bus route on the ONLY bus line that runs down the street I live on in a pan-Big-Blue-Bus decision to assassinate me with malnutrition and over-exertion after I had already paid the last $60 I possibly might have for the rest of my life on unlimited-ride bus passes to protect the Big Blus Bus drivers from the treason charges they kept choosing to receive themselves due to their own rampant stupidity when we all know I should have saved that money for food in case of emergency.

That is what benevolence to protect REAL Santa Monica City employees gets me in a literal war zone between America and those (expletive)holes who declared REAL war against America just to be able to make sure I never survive their "egg."

Please end the verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals entitled, "This is why we tell you not to be mean to me in the first place; you endanger yourselves, too, when you try to assassinate me," after I explained AGAIN that their choice to sexually harass me creates an environment too hostile for me to survive in, after I reminded my darling Handsome I am his Canadian girlfriend, and after I re-explained to my darling Maggie that charging me money for ANYTHING is treason and assassination attempts against me because it is only done to kill me. And, thank you.

All sane people in touch with reality know how close I am to dying from malnutrition already.

I had also checked on my local Sephora and everything finally looked okay inside for the first time in months.

I was beside the Best Starbucks in the World by 6:50pm where I explained to my listening world one more time that it is each independent business's decision whether or not they do things like charge my darling Patricia, one of my Best Starbucks in the World's best friends and customers, for coffee EVER after spending my short walk to get there explaining one more time, "This is why we tell you to NEVER be mean to me because it might kill me" and "I do NOT have to give anyone three steps, but I do anyway," one more time.

After my darling Patricia showed up and bought us both coffee for our evening coffee ritual, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt himself, and it was more of my telling my beautiful world when happens in here inside the innermost circle of hell for REAL than his telling me problems that need fixing.

My darling Patricia and I returned to my Promenade at 7:33pm where I hugged her goodbye and perched next to my darling Wade beside my local Urban Outfitters store.

After a little of my own "plot exposition," I was sitting beside Wade in front of my local Athleta store by 9:48pm. My beautiful world was catching up with me and carrying out follow through for me all night.

I reminded my beautiful world both that it was okay to mistake this completely hostile environment designed to kill me as fast as the Inhuman Atrocity Regime can get away with it, if they are not too stupid to kill me, as a paradise because it really is a paradise compared to ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa and that you all know for REAL what I have been living through all along while doing my almost impossible REAL job 24/7 for all of you.

My darling WadeInTheWaterChildren was still playing at 10:09pm when I left him and checked on my darling Handsome one more time before walking to my regular bus stop.

After the first REAL conversation I had been able to have in a very long time with the people controlling the earspeakers in the people using the drive-thru speaker at my local Burger King, I finally polished this blog post.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and responsibly-edited (You want every second but possibly from more than one camera.) recording with full audio and visuals of our REAL human communication about non-inane REALITY.

This blog post was finished from my bedroom at 12:38am on Tuesday, 24May2016.

[Please embed a highlights reel of my last two days here.]

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.

What else do I need? On the long-term, I need the entire compulsively-unrelenting Inhuman Atrocity Regime removed from the face of our one mortal Earth forever. On the short-term, my saturation needs more backup. We have an innermost circle of hell to clean up.

Even if not cleaned up, my Metropolis of Angels drenched in my rich and powerful lovers and believers of a REAL support system who actually run the REAL state of California is the safest place for me to live anywhere in the world. The IAR would just follow me no matter where anyone would take me to try to flee to, but my lovers and believers would not be able to all flee with me.

My living conditions have NEVER been so safe as now since May2009 when the systemic rape and systemic slavery began. Keep my Manor under the REAL control of me and my husband, and I actually might not die.

When I see the future now, am I still alive in it? Yes. But my human rights are still so far away. And, no, despite not liking cameras in my face nor aggressive fans, particularly fans who sexually objectify me or steal from me, I also never become a recluse.

Have any ACTUAL locals from my Metropolis of Angels ever given me any REAL complaints? Only two. A young child on a train with me once told me he was tormented by his earspeaker, so I told him to remove it.

My REAL local support system's only complaint to me has always been, "Squid, you have way too much humility." I cannot help with that one, though. I simply cannot be someone I am not.

But I have consciously tried to finally command at least a little respect recently; no one ever respecting me has always been my biggest complaint to the public around me 24/7.

No one should have to be mean to finally be respected at least as a fellow human in any other human's presence. But so few people are ever nice to me when I am nice, except for my REAL support system here.

My beautiful world, there is no safer place for me. And my REAL local lovers and believers promised to rebuild my Metropolis of Angels with me once our work here is done.

Please do what you need to do to remove the entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime.

We know what our home will have to live through, and we welcome you to fight to save us here. Thank you for loving us enough to save us at all. This is our REAL home. We locals can do what we want here. And we want you to save us here, my beautiful world.

My saturation of international to local protection here inside this IAR "egg" with me, can I get someone to remove from my Manor all of the malicious hardware that malevolently hacks my Spotify and keeps me awake all night with electrobeams?

If you want to send one of my maintenance men with equipment to scan for the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's transmitters, it will protect your deep cover. I would really like to sleep again, despite all of the work I get done in the wee hours of the morning talking to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's hackers.

Thank you. Did you also successfully de-chip my darlings Tentacle? They might still want my manual override (when I speak out loud) and some only-minorly-sensitive raw Sampo. That is their choice, but you know I hate all earspeakers.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, we are all so busy right now. Why does the Inhuman Atrocity Regime attack my darling Ms. Ugwuji "Gucci" Maduekwe so much more than everyone else?

Is Gucci still in Boston? Do I need to ask my darling Governor Deval Patrick to check on the status of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's infestation of Massachusetts? And, my darling Secretary of Homeland Security Jeh Johnson, why is the Secret Service STILL not keeping all of us and all of our families safe from assassination attempts, yet? That is their REAL job.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, I need all of you every Tuesday night at Sweetness's Harvelle's, or I start crossing town on Tuesday nights again. The open mic at the Pig'n'Whistle told me they miss me.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, about the no-touch energy healing last Saturday night, 21May, I was just returning the love. That is what you three have always done for me. Now, you know what I have been living through since we first met in Dec2014. I opened the door between all of us and our sacred universe for a reason.

You keep me alive, darling. Your true love keeps me alive. Maybe someday you will finally understand what you mean to me.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, I have one exclamation for this moment in our REAL relationship, "Dude, seriously? Wha?"

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime is really STILL refusing to allow you on the gray pavement of our own sacred Promenade rendered holy by you all's, my darling Tentacle's, handcrafted aether for the night sky herself and pounded powerful by my own tapping bare right heel?

If you are not out under the dancing lights of our sacred universe as our clear night skies fills with the energy of our own holy connection by the twilight of 25May2016 with all of the basic human rights and fundamental freedoms we are all due just by being humans on our one planet Earth at all, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime will have proven their compulsive human rights abuses against all four of us, people of a proven self-identified minority population they violate America's self-sovereignty to persecute, are their weapons in a war they declared themselves against our once-great United States of America on U.S. soil.

As GeneralUlysses to GeneralLee, on the same side this time just like the Trojans and the Greeks side-by-side forever here in our responsibly-edited rewrite of repeat history, it is my job to get you onto my Promenade when you choose to be there, and it is all of your job to love me.

There will never be any guarantee any of you will be able to arrive on my Promenade ever again if I can even get you there at all ever again. Keep that and how close I am to death at the hands of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime every moment of every day now in mind if you ever get to see me again.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, I have no idea why the Inhuman Atrocity Regime career-distorters-of-reality who have ill-gotten control of what always-inane-compared-to-the-hard-realities-of-my-REAL-impossible-existence topics people in the public discuss rarely if ever mention you anymore; you are the only one of my lovers who ever made me question my marriage and the only one I ever even so much as kissed.

So, please, darling, for me, this is when I need you to tell me and my beautiful world that none of us went to the prom if even in high school that long, not just me and Sweetness.

And please also assert on my behalf that we full-grown adults do not go to proms unless we are losers, so none of us ever will; and we are better people than anyone else for that. And, thank you.

You know you are too micro-monitored to ever reach me until the Inhuman Atrocity Regime is finally removed in its completeness from OUR home. I will never take your freedom to make your own choices away, but I prefer that you do not die desperate just to see me again.

Darling, I would rather you lived for me than died for me.

Soldiers should be soldiers. Civilians should be civilians. And, spies should be spies.

You are a lover to me, not a dyer. I am trying to be the same for you, too.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, what did they do to keep you away from me on Sunday night date night, 22May? Tell me who did it.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, you know how effective my righteous anger (No sane person in touch with reality calls the mythic fury of a woman screaming, "Freedom!" a "temper" and definitely never an "attitude.") is when I am not satisfied with how the Inhuman Atrocity Regime treats any of you.

Especially, no one works for me without getting paid. I know that pain too well.

I am demanding all three of you, my darlings Tentacle, on my Promenade with full human rights and liberties every time you choose to be there, especially your basic human right to freewill.

Please ask Commander-in-Chief Martin "Agamemnon" Dempsey, he that commands the full force of the U.S. Military including all criminal charges they choose to press to serve and protect America, to enter the brand new negotiations beside the three of you, my darlings Tentacle, that you all know you need now to create actually-mutually-binding, if possible, agreements for the first time that you need to be on my Promenade with me at all.

Since the Inhuman Atrocity Regime have NEVER upheld their own agreements with you ever before, please see, for the good of all of humanity, if my darling Agamemnon can enforce any law and order over them.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime are a PROVEN terrorist regime that declared war against the entire USA even on our own U.S. soil. There must be some authority somewhere that can finally command them. I am sending you the man capable of arresting and removing them all.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime already violated their most recent agreements with all of you anyway. Now, make agreements they might finally actually uphold. I love all of you, too. And I understand these talks might take a little time to complete. I will get so much work done while you are away-- Hulk Smash after Hulk Smash.

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

My darling HM Johnny "Menelaus" Depp, we sane people in touch with reality know the only place I could EVER be safer for REAL is in our REAL house across town.

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, all GENUINE concern for my wellbeing delivers me to our home safely, gives me unfettered loves ones including you safely, NEVER takes human rights away from me nor from my people, removes every threat to national security and to humanity that has EVER tried to control me and has ever said they need to take rights or liberties away from me not just my freedom of speech and freedom to stream or from any of my Powers of Attorney and Queen's Lovers Five, and does all I ask if I ever actually tell people what to do.

My hero and my king, we need the entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime forcibly removed from our Metropolis of Angels completely. Please help our brave Agamemnon lead our one beautiful world on this existential-for-America-as-we-know-it mission to save our homeland. In particular, my diverse world needs someone to help all of you strange bedfellows work together.

Sweetness, please be diplomatic me for all of you. I know you will not let me down. I pray I survive long enough in here to finally at least touch you, my REAL loving husband, before I die. I pray I do not let you down by dying before you can kiss me.