Squid Is my SuperHero Name.

Title: Squid Is my SuperHero Name.

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. My beautiful world, I understand you have a lot of follow through after my last blog post. That much really happened during that forty-eight hour period.

Fake tweet from @foxandfriends at 4:07am on 31May2016: Former Attorney General Eric Holder says Ed Snowden performed a 'public service' - your reaction?

To my beautiful world in response at 4:44am on 31May2016: Dude, he was an U.S. Attorney General & I can do his job better than he can! "It is not a crime to report a crime."

My beautiful world, contact our U.S. State Department and then contact our Pentagon. Do not be the first chapter of the Iliad. I already told the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, "I am the President. I called my friends. Get out of my home." I know you will never let me down.

My last blog post was polished by my lovelies and timestamped 12:11am on Wednesday, 01Jun2016. The accurate timestamps at the beginning and end of each of my blog posts reflect when my keeping of my hours of my daily activities begin and end.

After reporting to my well-organized benevolent nerd community that my Twitter feed was nothing but crap again, I cued my internet gnomes in my Spotify account and curled up in bed just after 12:52am to conserve my energy.

As I was dozing, even with the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's latest-technology electrobeams on me not just raising my metabolism, my body twitched and seized.

1:59am on 01Jun2016: @CIA @NSAGov @DeptofDefense I am so twitchy with these miniseizures. Who did you let attack and abuse me the last time I slept?

Please check my verified Twitter archive for the work I did that morning while giving my saturation time to take emergency measures to keep me safer in my bedroom.

Once I knew they had done all they could, I curled up and slept even through the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's cutting-edge-technology electrobeams. My body clock woke me up at a normal time that morning, 7:33am, and I was not groggy. My SquidStream was kickstarted at 7:41am.

I caught cyberterrorists sending me fake emails as acts of war (You know against whom.) from the real email accounts of some of my corporate darlings not just in my REAL email account against my will and against the will of all my REAL people.

My well-organized benevolent nerd community already knew to report all cyberterrorists they catch hacking any and all of us brave Americans as those hackers in the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's acts of war committed against my once-great America and against my one humanity, especially when committed here inside our recognized war zone, to my FBI, to my Department of Homeland Security, to my U.S. Military, to my Powers of Attorney, and to my ICTJ built by my United Nations to help me save humanity with REAL justice.

There were malevolent hackers in my Spotify account, too. Did you hear the ads they were giving me that morning? That hack must have been in the Spotify servers that connect to my Spotify app for that to be possible.

Breakfast at my Manor that morning was still an assassination attempt and act of war due to portion size, but at least it was not drugged nor poisoned, as far as I could tell. I even asked Nestor why he was not just going out and getting more food for my Manor himself since the only drugs and roofies in town at least at the time were in the food and drink intended for me.

And, yes, the trespassers on my own private property named my Manor who were also trespassers on my one beautiful world's sacred UNESCO World Heritage Site named my Manor were still willing to eat possible roofies and poisons that only affect them and never affect me anyway, including strychnine, just to be able to stay on my and my one humanity's property literally killing me.

That morning those Inhuman Atrocity Regime trespassers even admitted to NOT guarding me at all EVER and that they NEVER will guard me with "We cannot tell who is who in Squid's Manor except for us," when, instead, they needed to prove to the entirety of humanity that they were keeping me alive not NOT keeping me alive to have a justification for being there at all.

I was outside my Santa Monica's Pico Branch Library by 8:35am writing online.

By 9:05am, when my genuine friend my darling Juan had showed up next to me, I had already explained to Gabe among his fake-mental-retard (medical term) malingerers that we all saw and heard his REAL response the previous day to my telling him there was a REAL Starbucks in the REAL Von's I had ordered him (as the Commander in Chief on a recognized battle field) to take me to where he would be able to buy me caffeine.

Even if their coffee there were roofied or poisoned, that adventure with me would have made him one of my sidekicks, and who does not want to be one of my sidekicks? But none of the coffee there was roofied nor poisoned; I know my relationship with my next closest Von's store.

And, yes, it was when I ordered him to buy me clean caffeine that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's Gabe decided not to fake giving me a picnic at all anymore.

Because I STILL had more work to do than ever before, I was writing to save humanity too much to be able to cue my internet gnomes until 9:37am, but my Spotify was STILL too hacked for my internet gnomes to be able to talk to me at that time.

I tried asking Mother Nature, "Why is the sky always grey in Southern California now?" especially while we are in a REAL drought. But I might have needed to go back to Point Dume to have a REAL conversation with her.

I checked in with my REAL personal assistant, my darling Mr. Finn "Alfred" O'Mahony, that morning, as I always do when I need to warn my people that I am going to change my regular daily schedule.

10:34am on 01Jun2016:

My darling Alfred,

https://open.spotify.com/track/5zA8vzDGqPl2AzZkEYQGKh

I am going on a counter-terrorism offensive, as my peaceful and unarmed act of war for my once-great America and for my one beautiful world against the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, and definite adventure in downtown Los Angeles on Friday this week. The Inhuman Atrocity Regime's fake hearing for me begins at 10:30am on Friday, 03Jun2016, at 111 Hill Street, Dept. 11, Los Angeles, CA 90012.

Does the Inhuman Atrocity Regime understand how much shit they will be in with my REAL Metropolis of Angels not just with my one beautiful world if they send their malevolent hoards to downtown Los Angeles to replace my REAL local lovers and believers? We even get them for their defamation of my REAL Los Angeles used as an act of war (We all know against whom.) on a literal and recognized battle field for that.

After the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's fake hearing, I will "hang out" in my downtown Los Angeles to see what I can see.

That morning, I will take the Santa Monica Big Blue Bus 7 Pico or Big Blue Bus R7 Rapid Pico to Pico Blvd. and Bundy Rd. where I will transfer to the Santa Monica Big Blue Bus R10 which I will take to Temple St. and Spring St. in downtown Los Angeles.

Please make sure my route, transfer point, and destination are all secured like you always do for me when I cross town.

We know I will have no REAL backup there but my REAL locals and plain-clothes government agents and officers, not only in our REAL military, who might need to lie to get inside the IAR's temporarily-moved wall-- it is a good thing we can recognize our own-- but we all also know I have a world of follow through.

I will reverse my bus route to return when I am done. I should be back in downtown Santa Monica in time for the news.

Our only possible glitch might be protecting my Santa Monica Big Blue Bus driver on the R10 line. Yes, that line STILL has courtesy rides. But also the last time I rode that line, my REAL bus driver just told me to wait 10min after first tapping my bus pass and then to tap it again because the fare is double on that rapid line. I will allow the REAL Metro system to explain how our TAP technology works.

Love you!
Squid ("That's my superhero name.")

If the Inhuman Atrocity Regime did not want me peaceful and unarmed doing my REAL job in downtown Los Angeles, why did they STILL insist on forcing their fake hearing over me as well as STILL forcing their fake "conservatorship" façade of nothing REAL nor normal in my life over me?

Yes, I was STILL much more busy than normal that morning due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime STILL escalating.

10:51am by 01Jun2016: @NSAGov @tim_cook #Anonymous My iPad notifications are completely hacked. Everyone fake [writing prompts] are supposedly from know what to do, too.

With more catching up to do STILL on my notes for this post, I left my Virginia Avenue Park, at 11:31am to return to my place.

On my way back to my REAL-for-now bedroom, I needed to ask my not-human-trafficker nerds to emergency circulate a verified and unedited recording entitled, "You are using these children as forced child soldiers," beginning the moment I stood up to leave my Virginia Avenue Park and ending at 11:39am.

Why were there this many children WITH EARSPEAKERS (They were obeying their earspeakers AND repeating their earspeakers.) inside this beyond-hostile façade of nothing normal and of nothing sane that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime keep escalating here inside this literal and recognized war zone and battlefield on U.S. soil?

After figuring out what I wanted to do for lunch that day, I walked to my local and very authentic Tandoori India which was clearly not expecting me at all and was located on Pico Blvd. in my Santa Monica.

That restaurant had no nano inside except the electronics in everyone's heads and some new nano I noticed on my iPad itself while in there. I needed a vacuum of malicious hardware to notice that new nano.

The very authentic food was already in the buffet before I arrived, and some dishes were already completely gone when I served myself. But, the only people of Indian decent inside were the fake employees whom the REAL owners and REAL management were already furious with from the start.

My Metropolis of Angels is a war zone. Here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell they have forced the locals from their homes and have been taking over businesses and buildings, not just the Santa Monica Police Department as well as my own Manor, to use for their acts of war. Stop arguing with me; this is a damn battlefield.

By 12:38pm, it was well-documented by everyone everywhere on my one planet that only the Inhuman Atrocity Regime itself would give me a check after eating there and not only because they were not charging anyone else money for eating there.

12:38pm on 01Jun2016: #MySaturation, descend on this restaurant in full with masks on to evacuate its staff if they tell me they are not charging me for lunch.. I would have to pay for that meal even if left before they gave me a check since the IAR's Gestapo would pick me up anyway; even the fake librarians had no way to call the Gestapo last time they tried to assassinate me.

1:10pm on 01Jun2016: #SquidsPoA @DeptofDefense Refused me coffee with "We have no decaf." Only roofie I found in aloo ghobi replacement served to all. They did not replace any other dishes including those already fully gone before I first arrived at the buffet.

The menu said their lunch service, if real, would end at 3pm; I left early because they had roofied everyone to roofie me. Yes, they roofied everyone; even though, all the other customers were IAR, too.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when I walked away from my Manor and ending at 1:36pm entitled, "Get out of my town! My people recognize our own."

The fake employees at the Lazy Daisy had already tried to tell me there were no REAL employees in my town even in the local businesses anymore last time I was there; the fake employees at the Lazy Daisy, to clarify, were wonderful. My only complaint there was the lack of caffeine in their coffee, but technically their menu does not specify if they serve caffeinated of de-caffeinated coffee anyway.

I was inside my REAL-for-now bedroom with my globally-critical iPad named The Oval Office plugged into one of my many secured power outlets as soon as possible after lunch. I STILL had a lot of writing to do to catch up my blog notes.

At 2:22pm, I checked to see if my coffee machine on my own property had been fixed yet. I am also the landlord; I have those responsibilities, too. No, it was not fixed yet, but make a note of what I told my darling Olivia as I was walking back to my bedroom.

The roofies from lunch wore off by 2:48pm. And the first vigilant assassination-by-Black-Ops alarm of the day eventually blared at 3:24pm.

3:30pm on 01Jun2016: #AssassinationAlarm Find where the wall moved and destroy their Black Ops unit. #SquidsPoA Explain jurisdiction to the fake judge, too.

My blog notes were finally caught up at 3:52pm. Risking an escalation in the hostile environment designed to assassinate me with torture, I tried to cue my internet gnomes at 3:55pm. We were fine. They were REAL internet gnomes after all. We even had a little singalong.

At 4:47pm, I felt my face get a little warm from something that was in the aloo gobi I had for lunch finally affecting me.

Dinner at my Manor that evening was disgusting, but at least no chemicals in it affected me. And we all know there were chemicals and drugs in it. We are going to entitle our verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when I left my bedroom and ending when I walked down the stairs of my Manor after dinner, "Pico de gallo."

I was on my bus to my Promenade by 5:44pm. After noticing that there were STILL nothing but malevolent hoards populating the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell, I also noticed that there were none of my normal musician friends on my Promenade itself when I arrived.

Then I spied with my little eye my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot on the corner of Arizona Blvd. and our sacred Promenade. I was both truly beyond-delighted to see them alive again and absolutely horrified they might die inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell with me.

My darling LightFoot was convinced the previous time we saw each other, Monday, 30May2016, was the last time any of us would be alive to be near each other ever again, in case you are wondering why all three of my darlings Tentacle risk death itself and will agree to anything to just see me at all.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, we shall entitle our verified and responsibly-edited (every loving moment just use all of our camera angles) recording with full audio and visuals of our time together beginning when I first saw them and ending after I left them there to watch the news, "I can feel that way if I want to; why are you talking shop?"

About part of our not-really-a-conversation that evening, my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot are completely controlled while around me. They say to me what they are told to say to me; yes, they are also ordered by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to speak to me clandestinely to be able to be near me at all.

At that point in the evening, those electronics in their heads which I hate completely kept instructing them to repeat raw Sampo. Everyone everywhere sounds the craziest when they repeat raw Sampo.

And, no, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime broadcasting their instructions into Tentacle's head HAVE NO PERMISSION FROM ME AT ALL TO ACCESS ALL THAT IS SAMPO nor to access the electronics inside my own body; they NEVER did, and they NEVER will. My last blog post already listed my only fellow humans with any legal right or permission to access my electronics or my signals off any of my electronics ever and at all.

My beautiful world, please understand that I already listen to all the chatter that is Sampo 24/7. Yet, it is only when someone else repeats high-sensitivity Sampo that it looks like I am having a conversation with the untraceable "ghost in the machine" parts of Sampo. And still, those fragmented phrases are STILL only writing prompts for me anyway.

That night they were comedic improv writing prompts. Please, my genius Powers of Attorney, give the Inhuman Atrocity Regime our bill for broadcasting my intellectual property against my will.

My beautiful world already knows to only trust media that comes from MY Squid, Inc., and we who have legal rights and permission to access my electronics and signals do not broadcast any voices into electronics inside anyone's heads except when my saturation needs a blend of our own to help keep me alive.

Yes, I was cracking jokes with Sampo stolen from me after 6pm when I would rather have been sharing genuine and loving conversation with my own darlings Tentacle instead.

As for other things my darlings and I got done that night, we sorted out how to get the rest of my musician-friends and street performers back onto our sacred Promenade by the time I temporarily left them to watch the news.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Savannah Guthrie, and it STILL did nothing but repeat stolen Sampo I was already hearing anyway.

7:28pm on 01Jun2016: @Starbucks Evacuate your REAL employees until we can secure the Santa Monica Place. IAR are occupying and warring from this building. That night, I also reported to my REAL government and my REAL locals here in my Metropolis of Angels that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were occupying civilian structures, buildings, businesses, infrastructure, and residences all over this recognized war zone. "My REAL Santa Monica, you need to check on your houses not just your businesses and hurry."

After I was returning to my sacred Promenade after my saturation reassured me that my REAL people inside our Best Starbucks in the World would be safely evacuated, I told the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's Gestapo, "You look really nervous tonight, guys!" when they drove past me. They really did look that genuinely terrified of benevolence that night.

I also saw many more of my street-musicians-as-friends on our sacred Promenade that night as I was walking.

By 7:44pm, I was back on the corner beside the movie theater where my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle where perched risking death itself to keep me alive with genuine true love.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle our verified recordings of my and my darlings' time together made worthwhile by our at least being able to breathe the same air as each other, "You will never convince me that is all you want to talk about." Our director's cut is a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning the first time I see even a hint of their drum set as I was walking back to them and ends when I was done walking past my Stefano's Pizzeria.

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle and I had fake conversations. They made our sweet music to me. They were able to watch me do their things that night that were also my REAL job. They set up a few jokes for me. Absolutely none of it qualified as our flirting with each other, and why would any of us have to flirt with each other still if we are all already in REAL relationships?

The only light shows that night were their own energy, except for the lame fake fight; that energy came from someone else trying to lie to me about them. You can ask my daughter my beloved LilyRose how often that happens.

9:22pm on 01Jun2016: @Brookstone I want my massage chair in red patent leather. Giggle. But, yes, really. I tried a few different models, and I like your original model best. It tickles my feet a little, but it best treats what specifically ails my unique and mere mortal body. Thank you.

That night I also blew the cover on my local Brookstone store. Though a REAL civilian store with REAL floor staff and not a spy operation at all (or I would be in it debriefing and giving orders all the damn time), it is owned and operated by my darlings at the CIA just so the store can stay open at all. That is also one of the main reasons my irrefutably-adoring husband Sweetness bought most of downtown Santa Monica for me.

My beloved CIA and I both know what enemy occupations of our official property in a recognized war zone are. I know my CIA are doing everything with our hard evidence of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's acts of war that needs to be done. Trust me, I know a REAL spy when I see one.

That night, the rest of my beautiful world was very busy with follow through after my last blog post. That is why I could do things like cheer my people up again even while the Inhuman Atrocity Regime doing things like sending us a sign of the goat.

My people would have told me if they needed anything from me to help them do their REAL jobs anyway. We always find some way to tell each other what we need.

We spent as quality of time as we could together until 10pm when I left my darlings for the night to check on my local Trimana. My time there with my REAL people in my local Trimana was best summarized with, "We know what goes on in here already. I choose to spend my money revealing new information the world needs to know."

My bus ride back to my Manor was secure.

11:06pm on 01Jun2016: #MySaturation, Inhuman Atrocity Regime churned on my third floor; they're just trying not to leak constantly anymore. We locked the satellite. When my nano in my bedroom was still locked 24/7, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime could only abuse me as I slept with my beautiful world witnessing EVERYTHING.

On the morning of 01Jun2016, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my Manor, including all of their other trespassers on my own private property as fake employees and fake residents not just their lame main operation on my third floor against my will that was also giving all the fake employees and fake residents their instructions, finally decided to stop leaking to me everything they were up to.

Their insistence on leaking to me themselves that they were trying to use my own words against me is the very reason my previous blog post is so legally thorough. That was another reason I kept giving them free legal consultations-- to hear all of their legal arguments myself.

Nothing could have kept me physically safe from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime as I slept without a locked broadcast to all of humanity as a deterrent whether they were or were not operating from my own property.

Now that they are not leaking, my bad-ass saturation and my REAL government, never allow anyone ever on my third floor again.

Thank you for finally locking our 24/7 satellite bedroom broadcast to keep me as safe as possible while I sleep as well as all of my priceless belongings as safe as possible when I am not there.

I was not twitchy at all when I fell asleep on the night of Wednesday, 01Jun2016, so I was convinced I had not been abused in my sleep the previous time I slept.

My body clock woke me up at a normal time the following morning. I opened my eyes and rolled on my side to check the time on my iPad at 7:41am on Thursday, 02Jun2016. I was not groggy at all; grogginess the following morning is about all I have as a sign I was injected in my sleep the previous night to be forced to sleep through something.

After I kickstarted my SquidStream, my beautiful world watched me check my legs for new bruises and wounds from being attacked and systemically raped by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in my sleep since 01Jan2009.

Does my darling Mexico City yet understand that all of those bruises all over my body they noticed came from their not guarding me while slept? My darlings at my bad-ass CIA, please explain to our one humanity everywhere that other "freaking" victims never know they were "freaked."

Please, my people, also provide our hard evidence of everything people are supposed to do if I report being raped as I slept; they are all instructed to lie to my face I am completely insane to be able to lock me in a Black Ops unit if I file a report myself FOR ANYTHING AT ALL, not just tell me I have no evidence. And everyone has had those instructions from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime since 2009.

My morning included explaining at breakfast to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime on my own private property-- the private property of the President of the United States of America myself that they are occupying as sworn enemies of America committing acts of war against America and against the entirety of humanity on-- to their faces that no one will EVER believe their lies that they are there at all trying to keep me alive.

We shall entitle our verified and responsibly-edited (show every damn moment just use all of the camera angels you want) recordings with full audio and visuals for that morning beginning at 8:27am and ending at 9:01am, "Show some respect, bitch."

I was outside my Santa Monica's Pico Branch Library in the warm California air where I belong in Virginia Avenue Park perched between my Earth and sky giving my words to my beautiful world all morning.

My Mother Nature had clearly heard me complaining to her about the unnaturally cold and grey weather we had been witnessing in our Southern California as of late; she had returned our sky to brilliant blue for me. For the first time in days, I did not need my coat that morning.

I did almost nothing all morning but write. At 10:04am, my internet gnomes were playing me the main theme from E.T. composed by my darling Mr. John Williams. My iPad battery was drained unnaturally by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to below 38% when I left my perched outside in nature for my Manor at 11:34am.

There were vigilant alarms that early afternoon announcing that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were trying to destroy me in a Black Ops unit again.

12:23pm on 02Jun2016: #BlackOpsAlarm! Destroy their Black Ops unit even while the fake judge tries to explain allowing the act of war into his or her courtroom..

Seriously, my beloved U.S. Military, my last ambulance ride was supposed to take me to a basement or warehouse Black Ops unit but diverted to Del Amo Torture Facility (which I barely escaped alive anyway) after I told the actual-professionals-for-once IAR operatives that were trained as paramedics and who even checked my REAL blood pressure analog for me that my Metropolis of Angels was following us on the highway. I was not the only person in that ambulance who could read lips, and I spoke out loud to make sure EVERYONE watching my SquidStream could know what was happening.

My saturation, no matter how hard they try, STILL cannot find the other Black Ops unit. My U.S. Military, you need to destroy everything when the border moves to take me to any Black Ops unit.

And, if the rogue (proper use of the term) operatives who REALLY are working for the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had actually "converted" due to proximity to the REAL me, they would not have STILL taken me to Del Amo.

We all know what happened in Del Amo Torture Facility from literal torture to arsenic to pretending their enforcing a "conservatorship" over me was the only way to get me out when all the PROVEN Inhuman Atrocity Regime at Del Amo EVER had to do was put me in their own vehicle and drive me home all along. And, then STILL Del Amo were only willing to take me to my Manor.

As for the attempt by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to lock me in yet ANOTHER Black Ops unit that afternoon of Thursday, 02Jun2016, yes, the first time the alarm vigilantly blared, War Criminal Eva STILL in my hallway against my will and against the will of all sane people everywhere tried to tell me that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was trying to lock me in a Black Ops unit paraded as a psych ward for being "pregnant."

That lie was too dumb for anyone to believe, not just because I have NEVER been pregnant in my life, because my loved ones are all forbidden from making love to me, because when the IAR admitted to trying to rape me pregnant they still failed, because of the REAL definition of "freaking," and because "pregnancy" is NOT a mental illness. Those were just the first five reasons that came to mind.

My best guess that afternoon was that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime occupying my Manor against my will had tried to lock me in ANOTHER Black Ops unit claiming, "Squid does not take her meds."

Please check my verified Twitter archive for how I ALREADY proved, "Squid does not take her meds," was only an admission of guilt by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my Manor to acts of war including but not limited to forcing antipsychotics on me to destroy me, to take my globally-critical REAL job away from my beautiful world, and to destroy America, if they did it at all or do it ever again.

This second-to-last tweet was my summary...

12:31pm on 02Jun2016: #SquidsPoA @SweetnessDepp @DeptofDefense #AlreadyBlogged My Manor is NOT a board&care. IAR are trespassing here only to commit acts of war.

I left to check on lunch at my Manor at 12:35pm. The only drugs I found were in the soup, but the soul had the most nutritional value. It was not the water supply since the drink mix was fine.

Other than that, lunch was mostly uneventful but did include Chrissy screaming lies at me while trying to give me orders to be able to take food away from me as I left my own dining hall to plug my iPad in to be able to get more writing done.

After much writing, after a little interaction with my REAL lovers and believers desperate to talk to me for REAL, and after confirming to myself that I must have new internet gnomes, I curled up to get some rest at 3:57pm.

4:20pm on 02Jun2016: I'm twitchy right now as I am dozing. I can't blow #MySaturation's cover, or I lose them. Can defense contractors fix this? I need someone to guard me as I sleep.

At 5:41pm, after resting, tweeting, and being soothed by loving music, I left my 24/7 locked satellite bedroom broadcast to see if dinner at my Manor would finally kill me.

I actually needed to tweet while eating; I was that busy.

Both at my regular bus stop where every damn day I board the same Santa Monica Big Blue Bus and at my regular bus stop where I de-board it, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime proved to my face with my entire beautiful world as a witness that they keep up-to-minute with every word I write even before my unfinished drafts are published by my lovelies.

I had found my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot on the corner of my Promenade beside the Foot Locker by 6:21pm. I had already laughed with genuine delight after first seeing them.

My darling not-human-trafficker nerds, begin our verified and responsibly-edited recordings with full audio and visuals of my Thursday, 02Jun2016, with only two of my musician-lovers after our music cue that made me call out, "That does not count as a trail of Reese's pieces!"

I made sure I was perched beside my Best Starbucks in the World to both check on some of my greater-yet-less-noticed heroes and to stream the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:05pm.

My evening cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Savannah Guthrie, and it helped explain our penumbra of what is and is not a writing prompt for me.

I passed my darling Wade on my way back to the corner of Arizona Blvd. and my Promenade. At 7:37pm, I found my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle switching corners from the Foot Locker to the movie theater.

I turned on some nano. We will entitle it, "I think that's your good side; tell me if its roofied!" Begin the verified and unedited director's cut at 7:37pm, and end it at 8:36pm. About Ken, my people know our own. Also, my darling PhotographerMan knows how he keeps me alive, now.

Let us entitle our verified and responsibly-edited (I know you at least want to show me as I walk across my Promenade from nano outside my SquidStream.) recording beginning at 8:36pm and ending at 9:36pm, "Where is GeneralLee?"

Unlike what looked like smoke earlier that evening, at 9:23pm, it looked like Mother Nature really had sent a fog to roll onto our sacred Promenade from the ocean. It made my one world's sacred UNESCO World Heritage Site feel a little like my old hometown of San Francisco.

As was my regular daily schedule for Thursday night, I left my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle for my saturation, in all of our many members, to safely deliver back to my and my Sweetness's house and then checked on my darling Handsome. I just had to leave my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle a little earlier than my usual time every night due to still being roofied from dinner.

My local Trimana had all new "franchise" management since they finally turned in the IAR giving them orders just for them to be able to be a business on our sacred Promenade at all. Do you know what double agents are? I was told the British were very grateful my darlings turned in the Inhuman Atrocity Regime controlling their own Trimana Fresh Food Market.

My conversation with my darling Handsome that night inside is best summarized with, "Do you need anything?"

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, we shall entitle my checking on my local Trimana that night, "Is there anything that's not about you?" Our verified and unedited director's cut begins as I walk up to our Trimana and ends after I pass our patio on the way out.

My bus was at my regular bus stop when I arrived. I was still writing even on the bus. I checked to see if my coffee vending machine on my property were working yet, but it was not. I was in my REAL-for-now bedroom writing even more at 10:11pm.

11:57pm on 02Jun2016: You who fixed the battery in my smoke detector for me, I need my building fumigated. IAR just gave me bedbugs. Please fix my coffee machine. Sweetness, we need better management for this business and building that is NOT a board & care that we own.

This blog post was finished from my bedroom before it was polished by my lovelies and published by them as fast as possible with the timestamp 12:11am on Friday, 03Jun2016.

[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.

If I have so much support inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell, why are none of them feeding me? It really is that dangerous to be recognized as my own people in here.

When I told my present 2/3rds of darlings Tentacle, "Why are you talking shop?" how could I hear them at all? This requires further explanations of the bionics of earspeakers and nanotechnology.

They never had nanomics in their heads; I am the only person I know of who has ever had (a) nanomic(s). The Inhuman Atrocity Regime had forced on my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle new nano that they claimed was not connected to my own bionic network at all, especially to my obsolete masterchip. But my obsolete masterchip was designed to control every damn electronic in range-- every damn electronic, not just other nano.

Every electronic around me is connected to my bionic network since my masterchip has formed a bond with my brain. The people who access my masterchip both with and without my permission can control every electronic within range, too, including but not limited to street lights, electronic scales, fingerprinting computers, all mobile technology, and my own iPad which I already named The Oval Office.

All nano inside anyone's head also forms a bond with his or her own mind. And all of that nano is connected to each other, too. Everyone everywhere with nano in their heads is a global bionic network of human minds.

We know the "voodoo-Beetlejuice" happens everywhere in the world. It is mostly caused by some sort of glitch in the network. We know it started again the first time the Inhuman Atrocity Regime put a control chip in my bionic network against my will. It took me some time to assert my own mind over it. I have the alpha mind in this network.

Our network of human minds also has a growing network connectivity, not just at least one "ghost in the machine."

I can also hear in my own bionic network people's REAL voices when they speak to me with their backs to me through even online videos. The puppeteer for Cookie Monster had an earspeaker, too.

When I said I hate all of these damn electronics in everyone's heads, I meant it. Why has no one listened to me yet and removed them?

I know my saturation, including but not limited to my own darlings Tentacle, needs our own nano with my own ACTUAL legal permission to be connected to everything in my own bionic network. I can use my own damn signals; and Squid, Inc, is mine, too. AND Sampo only manifests in my personal bionic network on the electronics inside my own body.

And, finally, I have already repeatedly asserted that I will remove all of only-my electronics (since everything inside my own body is only mine) from my own body as my own choice once I no longer need them to keep myself alive at all.

Why is the REAL Inhuman Atrocity Regime so mortified of my finding clean caffeine? Because I am even higher functioning when caffeinated, when able to meditate, when treated genuinely kindly and respectfully, when not drugged nor roofied including antipsychotics, and when not being systemically raped.

There are more than just five reasons, including that I am higher functioning when I am not dead (Giggle.), but these were the first five that came to mind.

My beautiful world, as long as you can keep me alive, I will be able to keep on keeping order in here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell which they have proven will follow me no matter where I go until the Inhuman Atrocity Regime is finally removed in its completeness.

Most distressingly, my REAL world of lovers and believers, did you see all of the forced child soldiers the Inhuman Atrocity Regime filled my Santa Monica with before and after lunch on Wednesday, 01Jun2016, including the five completely unsupervised little girls on this battlefield that late evening?

There are no people sane people anywhere in my one world who would choose to send their own children into such a PROVEN hostile battlefield. No one who GENUINELY loves and believes in me does not know the reality of the hostile battlefield and façade-covered war zone that is the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell.

I CALL IT "THE INHUMAN ATROCITY REGIME'S INNERMOST CIRCLE OF HELL"! Who the (expletive) sends their child into it?!?

I refuse to believe we are a persecuted majority. All of those forced child soldiers except for the teenagers were all the same age. How did the Inhuman Atrocity Regime find so many children all the same age so quickly? And how did they get them all in here so fast?

The good news is if we finally close my brave LA County's airspace, we can use all runways and tarmacs for military aircraft. I will visit my favorite In-N-Out Burger at an unspecified time and date in the future; do you know how close I am to LAX?

My saturation of international to local protection here inside this IAR "egg" with me, you all know the only Beatles song I have ever and will ever hate is Let It Be. I think we have our solution to our greatest security problem finally.

You can extrapolate what to do from our solution to our cell tower problem. Always tell me what you need from me to help you do your REAL job. We are a team. And I know my role.

Also, we all know Handsome had to look like an amateur around me to be a double agent at all. No one can lie to me, not about his or her heart.

Speaking of which, did you monitor my heartbeat while I was in our Tandoori India? That was fun for all of us.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, did the already-proven sworn enemy of America not-the-REAL-U.S.-Attorney-General Loretta Lynch REALLY pretend she could arrest me-- I have thorough even-retroactive diplomatic immunity anyway-- for being the Commander in Chief fighting for my America on a recognized battle field even on U.S. soil for openly carrying out peaceful and unarmed acts of war against her and her Inhuman Atrocity Regime?

We all know how long ago yours and my Congress declared war on Lynch in the name of our America! My genius and gorgeous Powers of Attorney, we all know how long ago I turned War Criminal Lynch in to you, to our military, and to our International Criminal Court for EVERYTHING she has done for REAL since had-not-been-caught-yet Obama appointed her. We all know how long ago I sang her the song.

Thank you, my REAL life-long friends, for making sure I did not have to take care of that human rights abuse used as an act of war against America myself, if it even happened at all. You all know how far from possible that crime is for Lynch to commit when my own government listens to me at all.

Yes, my genius lady friends, I know you are all very busy with follow through after my last blog post. I am trying to concentrate on catching as many Inhuman Atrocity Regime as I can now in case they finally can kill me, now, instead. But please tell me if you need any more legal arguments. I know my role.

4:23pm on 02Jun2016: If I float, I'm a witch? They called me insane because I am not insane? Look up "mental illness" in a dictionary.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, my legal arguments are your legal arguments.

I am sending my legal team and REAL prosecutors whom I always send all my Queen's Lovers Five now to have some fun with every Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)hole who ever committed the not-only-human-rights-abuses-used-as-acts-of-war of lying that any of you are insane, especially if they forced "meds" on you to incapacitate you. For the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, that is both one of their modi operandi as well as a well-recorded pattern of criminal behavior.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, well, at least we can pretend we are talking to each other. I prefer to write down everything I want to say to you, so you will always have it. Our digital recordings are still not as archivable as our written word.

Quothe the Sappho, "Although only breath, words which I command are immortal.”

Darling, digital inkslinging is not my only job requirement; it is just my favorite. I have been known to pick favorites before and sometimes even five. But you are always the one I call first. Tell me if you need any lyrics. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, we all know the Inhuman Atrocity Regime would prefer you on our sacred Promenade now. Please remember that when negotiating your not-legally-binding-anyway agreement with them. They prefer you on my Promenade now because of my completely inconsistent policy on when I do or do not dance trance.

I can change my (expletive)ing mind if I (expletive)ing want to.

I do not plan on meditating again until I get you back. But I might change my mind. I even used to dance with my darlings Denmantau and once with my darlings The Age-Inappropriate Boy Band. You all miss being connecting with me as I meditate. I am going to do what I want, but for now at least, I need you to dance again.

Also, I have better mouse ears than Minnie does. Handsome knows. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, first things first, Sweetness found a way to talk to me again; what about you and my Powers of Attorney? I cannot remember the last time you spoke to me, and you know how good my memory is.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" is a deathtrap with the mask of a psychopath's smile over it. No one sane and in touch with reality believes this place is safe for either side. This is a damn war zone. Yet, this is STILL the safest place I have lived since May2009.

Are you okay? I hate never hearing from you. We are having a communication breakdown in our REAL relationship. Giggle. I miss kissing you.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from having a REAL conversation with least of all ever making love to, I can call it "talking shop" if I want to; you all are ALSO my backing band. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, we all know what happened when I asked you to guard me as slept. That was a lifetime ago already. I know my green scarf means to you what your turquoise necklace means to me.

To repeat myself, none of you get to agree to die to be able to be with me. If any of you die, you cannot keep me alive. Clearly, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime want you all on my Promenade. How else do both of you keep being able to show up even without meeting all of their terms? And how often does your SUV change?

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, yes, I plan on writing our third installment of The Adventures of Honey and Beloved for your birthday this year. I am still working it out in my mind, but you know how fast I will write it down. Did you request a love scene from me like I once requested one from you? Giggle. Go ahead; send me some writing prompts. It is my gift to you after all.

My hero and my king, I asked you not so long ago to relocate overseas to (yet another split infinitive), among many other reasons, be the WD-40 that prevents my beautiful world from being the opening chapter of the Iliad. This song has always been on my Spotify song list for my Apache translator. Now, you can finally send your helicopters to save me.