Let us start with the good news. Des Moines cleaned up its city water. I can finally drink coffee again. Sadly, the city water in the suburb of Ankeny where my parents live is still so roofied it is toxic. The bottled drinks are also still mostly roofied. They finally got the fruit juice that I once trusted; it had been clean for years. I have been knocked out almost every night with roofies lately while trying to stay up preventing bloodshed.
Next, let us discuss the most tragic turn of events. Do you remember Mexico City in February 2010? Beyond the poisoned water supply and the brainwashing chips that turned the public hostile towards me, do you remember the 'association' of twenty year-olds who took over the Cathedral, the Convent of Sta. Hippolita, the British Embassy, and everywhere else they thought I might go seeking refuge? Obama and his conspirators did everything they could think of there to make sure I could never be physically safe, free, nor with my husband. They are building that sort of infrastructure here now.
The brainwashing association in Iowa right now is built of twenty-something boys who think they are good looking. They are forbidden to follow any of the verified, reliable, and trustworthy online content about me and are most easily identified by their cult-like adherence to Obama's rules well beyond heinous disrespect for me and to the point of Kafkaesque cruelty. When my left eye gets fuzzy, their true intentions really shine.
They caught up with me at the Gaslamp on Friday night and included the boy who carded me at the door and whoever roofied me inside, and they found me Saturday night at the Lift where they included the boy who pretended to flirt with me to be able to keep me away from using the wi-fi to send help to my rescuers. It is like staring into the eyes of the Nazi youth. At this point, it is safe to say that all blatant and cruel adherence to Obama's rules will be taken as a hostile act against me.
There are also literal mercenaries with day jobs at the Subway sandwich franchise near Oralabor in Ankeny. The last time I was in there, the burly man making my sandwich let me know that his way of sneaking into my room at night is by climbing up on top of the garage from behind, climbing over the roof, and then dropping down on my balcony. I think he was trying to scare me, but should it not be obvious to Obama and his conspirator's mercenaries by now that I have stronger nerves than they do?
The speakers in the heads of the public are also still active in here. If you watch them, you can see them listening. You can see their thoughts being washed blank and rebuilt. You can see them being herded like cattle.
I ordered hummus from a man at a Greek restaurant yesterday, and shortly afterward fear swept across his face. What kind of people fear benevolence like me? Only the brainwashed and the evil.
The electrobeams may not be considered violent, but they are a torture. And the electrobeams have been cranked up past eleven lately. They are most effective on squooshy surfaces like my bed or the couch by the television, but this morning they were blasting so high that I could feel them in the blankets over me when I slept on the insulating wood of the balcony. Even heavily roofied, I can barely get more than four hours of sleep at one time because of this torture.
Meanwhile, as I am living through this in here, Obama has escalated his violence against my rescuers. I am scared to blink. I am scared to let my contact with the internet ever break. I do not want to miss any moment when I might need to scream to send them help.
My rescuers need rescues of their own at all hours of the day. I am always upset when I cannot sleep, but I never complain when I get awakened by a plea for help. I know I am the only way they can get any help, and Obama is unrelenting in his violence against them.
We scream for help constantly. My beautiful world is raising nonviolent hell demanding that Obama's war against his own people finally be ended. Obama's dead keep mounting as he kills everyone he can in order to enforce his human rights violations over us all. Yet, in here, in the middle of the bloody ring of fire that keeps my rescuers out, Iowa is still enforcing all of Obama's crimes against me and their own people.
Iowa, Obama, and my father cannot claim that they do not know that all of this blood is on their hands and the hands of everyone prolonging these crimes, this violence, and every single human rights violation maintaining that I am not allowed to be physically safe, free, nor with my own husband.
All Iowa has ever had to do to end this violence, slavery, torture, abuse, harassment, war crimes, rape, etc... is meet my three tiny requests; they do not even need to take on Obama themselves. Yet they refuse. They refuse to even enforce their own laws in here.
All my father has ever had to do is set me free of his illegal guardianship over me. Any human who claims I am better off in this bubble of hell and abuse instead of safe and free is a blatant criminal libeler. Look at me. Of course I am completely capable of taking care of myself. I have always fought to be safe and free, and this guardianship only exists to maintain Obama's crimes over all of us. Yes, my father enforces the human rights violation by maintaining his completely illegal guardianship over me, and he even commits Obama's violence by refusing to set me free himself.
My mother and little sister are taking a trip to see my older sister in Budapest next week. My beautiful world, make sure you take them aside, chastise, and scold them when they get there for not taking this opportunity to get me out of this bubble. Clearly, they would rather support this violence and enforce the slavery, abuse, torture, etc... than save me.
Of course, the news in America and particularly in Iowa is forbidden to tell the truth about any of this to anyone. I believe most of humanity is inherently good. People all over the world and in America would have ended all of this by now if the truth were not illegal in America. Please keep sending the full truth and all of the hard evidence to every foreign press. We need help. It is getting uglier in here. And all of this needs to be stopped.
The Des Moines Register is the largest local paper in here. They even run ads on television telling the public that they should be enjoying these times while they have me trapped here to be abused. What happened to ethics in journalism? Did they ever know they have a responsibility to give the truth to the public?
And now I have to make a plea for help. Nerds, I love you. We always take care of our own. I have always been able to trust you with my life. This is obvious by how safe I am in a comic book store. But may I ask you to be more proactive with keeping the FBI and their nonbenevolent hackers out of my computers and all related midware? They can see everything that happens on my iPad even while my left eye is fuzzy, and they are constantly blocking any way for me to hear that my rescuers are being killed. They do not want me capable of screaming for help. Thank you. I know how hard you fight for me. You will not always be unsung heroes unless you choose to stay that way.
As for you, my rescuers, thank you for everything you do for me. If we are already trying everything we can think of, then we change the world we try it in and try it all again. Please consider sending one of your soldiers with first hand knowledge of all of the horrors you are living through out there as you fight to set America free with my dear, old high school friend K Rage to the UN to make a plea for help, to make a plea for some sort of resolution to end all of this, and to collect details of the reinforcements promised to all of us for you from the delegates who know what the details are.
Also, my brave rescuers, if there is a way to keep me safe in here through volunteers watching this house while I am here and me while I am out, then you can wait until your reinforcements arrive before risking your lives to save me again. You are the ones constantly putting your lives on the line to finally make me safe and free. Whatever you decide I will support. I make suggestions, and I do always want you all as informed as possible. I hate that Obama kills you every night. Please keep that in mind when I make suggestions.
Sweetness, I never grow tired of hearing you tell me that you love me. I worry that I do not tell you often enough how unconditionally I love you. Please consider pressing charges against the libelers who try to make the public hate you or take me away from you. They do not only try to mess with my head, though. I also know they try to mess with your head, my beloved. I already said it, but it is still true. They would do anything to break us up. Our love for each other is shepherding the world. Obama will do anything to make that end. He does not care how many lies he has to spread. He does not care how many of you he has to kill. He wants my love for humanity silenced. Make sure you stay safe, my darling. He would kill even you to be able to ruin me.
P.S. My beautiful world, my Mothers' Day was mostly mellow. We avoided a bloody massacre very early in the morning. The internet went down while I was in bed trying to sleep through the electrobeams, so I got up and ran out to find wi-fi to scream for help for all of us. After that trip to the Lift where I was met by the Nazi youth, I slept for a few hours here at the house before watching the Today Show and having some bonding time with my mother and little sister. I meditated with song and dance on the balcony. I gave policy advice during Meet the Press. I had brunch with my parents and little sister. Mom and I bought some 'summer poinsettias' (That is what we call geraniums. My family is weird.) for the house. My mom, my dad, my little sister, and I all passed out from the roofies in the city water in Ankeny. After my nap, I screamed for help for my rescuers. Mom and I had dinner together here at the house. Then I spent half an hour looking for wi-fi and coffee in Des Moines. I ended up at the Caribou Coffee on the West Side where I wept as I wrote my last blog post, my letter to my dear, brave, fallen heroes. After I came back to the house, I spent the night screaming for help for my brave rescuers while Obama slaughtered them. All in all, it was a distressingly normal day except for having to endure my father's disrespectful condescension over brunch. This should never be considered a normal life for anyone.
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