Retmeishka

6:41 AM 5/28/2024

I don’t know exactly what happened, but I woke up feeling mysteriously slightly better this morning. I don’t know how MUCH better, and I don’t know how long it will last, and I don’t know what CAUSED me to feel better. The powdered colostrum might have helped, but it might have taken a couple days to help. It might be because I went to the truck stop, took a shower, and ate some fried eggs with runny yolks at the restaurant. Fried eggs with runny yolks are ‘real food’ in my mind. They are a luxury that you cannot get just anywhere or anytime. I have fantasized about ‘my restaurant’ the same way that I’ve fantasized about my woolen mills or wool store. I think maybe I will have an all-purpose general store that sells 100% wool, with foods and a restaurant, with a cat cafe in it, and have all my different stores combined into one thing.

So I don’t know why, but there is a mysterious definite improvement today, all of a sudden. I have to go to work early in the morning.

Some of the improvement is because the weather looks a little bit better this morning.

I did visit the cats, and was absolutely ecstatic to see some of them. I am ecstatic to see the tiny few that remain. When I walked up and saw the first one, camouflaged there on the ground, and I suddenly noticed her as I got close, I was like, ‘PAAAATTTTYYYYYY!!!! !!!PAAATTTTYYY!!! !PAAATTTYYY!’ I was almost jumping for joy just to see this one silly little cat who was waiting for me.

If the colostrum helped at all, I may still benefit from using it a few more times for a few more days.

I desperately need to get some more socks. I have some socks, but they are buried somewhere in my trailer, and it’s hard to get in there, and I couldn’t find them quickly and easily even if I did get in there. The socks that I have are, of course, a polyester cotton blend, not the 100% cotton ones that I could only order online. I have gotten them at random stores, and even THEY are no longer cheap. You can’t even buy shitty polyester garbage for a low price anymore.

I seriously wish that some president, or the entire administration, because everybody has to go along with this and not sabotage it, I seriously wish that they would all undo these globalization
agreements, like – I can’t remember the name of it. It’s a bunch of letters. I remember we had debates about it back when I was in school. The debate was like, ‘Will this trade agreement make things better, or worse?’ We were all being brainwashed to believe that this globalist trade agreement was a good thing. ‘The giant sucking sound of all our jobs going to Mexico,’ that agreement. I keep wanting to say ‘NATO,’ but that’s not it. There were several agreements, not just one, and they all had the result of giving all of our manufacturing to China. I can give that summary even if I can’t remember the name of this thing.

Anyway, we need to undo those agreements that allow – is it NAFTA? North Atlantic Free Trade Agreement? That’s probably one of them. There were more of them than that. That’s one. We need to undo the agreements that have resulted in every single thing being manufactured in China.

I might not have enough mental capacity to make this argument this morning, but I will try. I used to be a libertarian, but I don’t call myself a libertarian anymore. I do not know the name of what I would call myself. I have picked up a few ideas from a few different sources, and some of my ideas are actually inspired by things written by Karl Marx, although I have only read one or two paragraphs that he has ever written.

I only know that I was told in school that, for instance, there used to be a lot of farmers, and these farmers just decided on their own that they felt like giving up their farms and getting jobs at the factories, because working at a factory was obviously a better life than working on a farm, and nobody wanted to work on a farm. From the perspective of Karl Marx, he described it completely differently. He described it as the farmers were being FORCED to give up their land, and lost their farms, and not by choice, and someone else TOOK their land, leaving them homeless and jobless, so they went to work at the factories, because they basically had no jobs at all and no life. That sounds a lot more believable to me now. I clearly remember being brainwashed at school to believe that ‘factories gave people a better life.’ There was no mention of how ‘somebody had DESTROYED their lives FIRST, and working at a factory was the only thing they had left to choose from.’

So I was always being told that people just naturally started switching over to a factory lifestyle, in an inevitable way, with no cause, merely because factories are superior to farms, and factories are a ‘level up,’ and factories are the ‘natural progress’ towards a higher level, kind of the way that people describe ‘forest
succession,’ where they believe that conifer trees, like pines, are some kind of short-term tree that will only be there for a little while, whereas things like oaks will ‘succeed’ over the pine trees and eventually take over, as though this is some kind of ‘progress,’ and as if oak trees are better and superior to pine trees; when, in reality, there are locations where various kinds of pine trees are living there forever, just because they are the type of tree that is most adapted to be living in some kind of situation, and there are some pine trees that have very long lifespans. They are not merely some short-lived, disposable, temporary tree that will eventually be replaced by something better. That’s also how I was taught that farms should be viewed. The farm life is inherently ‘inferior’ and ‘backward,’ and factories are merely the ‘natural progression’ towards a ‘higher level’ in society.

Oh, okay – I said I was going to try to explain a difficult argument that required my brain to be working. It was about ‘protectionism.’ ‘Protectionism’ was portrayed as being ‘ALWAYS BAD.’ We ALWAYS benefit from having NO PROTECTION AT ALL, is what I was told. The libertarians also tended to see things this way. Globalism was ALWAYS GOOD. We should ALWAYS have access to TOTAL FREE TRADE WITH NO RESTRICTIONS AT ALL. The slightest bit of a restriction on trade was ALWAYS bad.

I actually believe now that we should ban most of the trade with China, although I actually don’t want to ban all trade with all foreign countries. Maybe there could be a huge tariff. Oh, I remember, nobody ever liked tariffs. We were told that tariffs were always bad. It’s when you add a very high fee on top of the price of an item that you are importing from another country, but you don’t ban the product entirely. You can buy it, but it will have a very large fee added on, so the price will not be cheap anymore. This would be like, if you wanted to get horrible cheap cotton-polyester socks made in China, then you could still buy them if you were absolutely desperate, but they would have, like, a $20 tariff added on, so that you would be buying Chinese socks for $35 instead of $15. And then, you’d look at some American-made 100% cotton socks being sold by a local artisan, and those might be $25, and that would be cheap compared to the now $35 socks from China. That’s ‘protectionism’ and it’s ‘always bad.’

Our prices are high for several reasons. Land prices are high, so everything produced on the land must have a high price just to pay the bills that you owe, the unavoidable bills that every person must pay merely to exist. The prices of EVERYTHING have to be high enough to pay all of those unavoidable bills first. It has to pay whatever monthly payments you have on the land, along with all the utilities, and whatever debt payments you have.

But people complain because we have environmental restrictions, and labor laws, that are stricter than the laws in China. In China, you can pollute as much as you want, and you can make all your products with unpaid slave labor, so that’s why everything is cheap from China. There are other reasons: they have a much higher population density, and so, it is much easier to manufacture anything at all. In a high density population, you can have a whole bunch of different factories that are producing a whole bunch of different parts that all work together, so you can produce complex objects made from hundreds of different specialized pieces. We have a relatively low population density in the United States, and our population is falling, except the Amish and maybe one or two other groups, whose populations are increasing. Everyone else except the Amish are going extinct. Oh, and illegal immigrants. That’s because sending everyone to the university and then expecting them to pay this college debt for the rest of their life, while also expecting them to pay the debt to buy a house, and not enabling them to get any more debt to start their own business, so they have to ‘look for a job’ instead of starting their own business, and then, expecting them to also start having children while paying off all this debt, while they are struggling to ‘climb the corporate ladder’ at their job, so that they can get a higher paying middle management desk job, and this is the American dream – that’s no way to live life. It’s not possible to have children and be able to afford to pay for anything at all, while also paying off all of those debts and struggling to make more money at your job.

The Amish are RIGHT about the idea that there are only a limited number of appropriate ways to live, and buying land and living on a farm is one of the most appropriate ways to live. They are able to use the unpaid labor of children on the farm, and able to use horses, which don’t bring debt, whereas buying a huge tractor brings huge debt, and nowadays, it can only be repaired by a licensed professional who will give you the software updates.

Anyway, the thing that I have changed my mind about in recent years is, I decided that there is some place where we should draw the line and allow ‘protectionism.’ I have realized that, for instance, if you try to hunt all the local wild deer, and then sell all of their venison to people all over the planet, for money, you will actually quickly destroy the wild deer population LONG before the price ‘rises’ enough to make it so that people will stop buying the deer. ‘Price rises’ do not happen automatically from a machine. Price increases are something that the seller can choose to do or not do. They do not have perfect knowledge or perfect information. A venison seller in the middle of Pennsylvania can’t read minds, and doesn’t know that there is a wealthy billionaire in China who is perfectly willing and able to buy the butchered bodies of every single deer in the entire state of Pennsylvania, all at once, in one giant purchase, for the low, low price of $100,000 or something. Wow! you’re thinking. I’d be SUPER rich if somebody walked up to me and just handed me $100,000! That’s a great deal! I’ll say YES to that sale! From your point of view, it looks like a huge amount of money, because you’re living in a low-density population where people have low wages and nobody is making that kind of money around here. But from China’s point of view, $100,000 is a ridiculously tiny amount of money, a mere drop in the bucket, and they could actually afford to buy up every single piece of venison in the entire country if they wanted to, without blinking an eye, because the amounts of money that they are tossing around every day are on a higher order of magnitude that your mind can’t even imagine.

A venison seller in the middle of Pennsylvania DOESN’T KNOW that the absolute limit that this Chinese billionaire can afford to pay him would be, actually, maybe $10,000,000 for all the deer in
Pennsylvania. That would be the price where they would refuse to pay any more than that. This seller would say ‘yes’ to the sale long before they reached that maximum number. ‘Price increases’ never happen automatically like a machine, and the sellers never have perfect knowledge in advance of how much money the buyer would be willing to pay, or what would be the maximum number that the buyers would be willing to buy.

I know there are things like ‘futures trading,’ where they do try to predict in advance the prices that people would be willing to pay for something in the future. Okay, I have to grudgingly acknowledge that maybe, there is KIND OF an economic mechanism for how people can predict how much the buyers would be willing to pay for something. They’d have to set it up so that some amount of time would go by, like ‘A year from now, when all the venison is grown up, I’ll pay this much for them.’

I don’t have a lot of time, and I have to get ready for work. Work is going to become so unbearable that I am going to have to start actively thinking about how I am going to ‘win the number-counting game’ a little bit better than I am now. I need to earn more money, and increasing my work hours at the job is intolerable. My feet are in less pain now that I completely removed all the insoles from the shoes, but they are not in no pain at all. I’m still in pain by the end of the day.

The biggest problem is that I am bored and don’t have enough to do. We have too many people. I worked at busier stores in the past, because I was working in the middle of State College, and I think of things in terms of ‘How can I multitask 36 different things at once?’ How many seconds will it take for me to run to the cooler to go grab a new container of lettuce, which I just ran out of, and is that long enough that the meat will be coming off the grill at the exact second when I run back into the room, so that I can pull the meat off the grill before it starts burning?

Whenever I’m bored, because there are too many people, my multitasking is more like, ‘What am I going to daydream about, while I stand here waiting three minutes for this thing to finish cooking?’ Or ‘What am I going to daydream about, while I wait for them to use up the food that they have plenty of and don’t need any more of, while my feet are in pain and I want to sit down?’ I used up all of my writing pad and need to buy a new one. I brought in some loose pieces of paper and inserted them into the little notepad. The other day I was writing down some stuff that I was thinking about and wanted to remember, but it wasn’t anything pleasant, it was evil. I was thinking about cat-related crimes that had been committed, and other crimes. It wasn’t like, for instance, at the other job, whenever I had a list of names of tree species that I wanted to memorize. I was memorizing the entire list of all the evergreen conifer trees that grew in Centre County. I successfully memorized the list, although I can’t remember it now and would need to refresh my memory. I have not actually made the conscious effort to go to BONAP and make a list of all the species of some particular group that I wanted to focus on.

I also don’t have an easy to use source of ginseng right at this moment. I do have some ginseng, but this particular batch of roots, ordered online, is just hard enough that it’s hard for me to bite them with my teeth. I need some tools to rip the pieces off, but the tool is in my bedroom in the trailer. I did have something I was using for that, a couple pairs of pliers that worked well enough. I was able to crush or break them with that. So I am not eating ginseng very often at all.

I need to hurry. I am going to have to start thinking about
alternative ways to play the number-counting game. There is something wrong with me that I haven’t fixed. The arthritis in my knees and legs is still lingering. I think I have made an improvement in it by not using the greasy hair conditioner, which I believe was getting absorbed through my skin and going into my joints. I may need to eat foods that will actively replace that bad fat; and also, I may need to wash the clothes and other items that have this greasy conditioner on them, such as the pile of sweaters that I use for a pillow.

I may also have a fungal infection that came from my foot, and I have a theory that it might have come from one particular person’s shower that I used, which wasn’t clean. It wasn’t a shower that I paid for at the truck stop, it was a free shower at a friend’s house, and the bottom of the shower needs to be scrubbed with Comet Cleanser or something like I used to do when I had a house. I suspect that the weird fungus-like infection on a couple of my toes might possibly have come from there, but I don’t know for sure. The skin started peeling off those toes, and they became swollen and stiff. I could
theoretically have more of that fungal infection that might have gone INSIDE my body, and it might have moved around, and it might have moved upwards and infected my joints, and maybe THAT’S the reason why my knees and my hip joints are stiffer than usual and more in pain. I do know that, because of my leg injury, I have had more pain and stiffness, and I compensated by overusing my right leg, which would cause more pain and injury in the right leg, so that was some of the explanation of why BOTH legs were hurting more than they should.

‘I’m getting old’ should never be the default explanation for why you are unhealthy. I keep seeing women with hair that is completely gray, who are in much better health and are moving around better and look happier than I am. They usually have husbands. Having a husband means that you can take better care of yourself and your entire life, in every single way, especially if they are a socionic dual who is able to cover all of those difficult socionic functions that you cannot do by yourself. I don’t have a husband, so I don’t have a helper for all of those socionic functions, so I just sit here stagnating in misery for decades with no help. People’s overall health declines in every way when they lose their spouses, and it’s much, much more of a struggle to maintain it all alone, by yourself. You can’t do all of those things that your spouse used to do for you when they were alive, again especially if they were a socionic dual who was doing things that are completely different from the things that you yourself are doing.

I have to go, I’m not finished writing this, I took a different kind of caffeine pill that makes me much more verbose than the other kind, and yet, I have to go, right now, because I have to get to work, and I should eat something before I go to work.

This is going to be a week of frantic desperation, because I am working more hours with hardly any days off, and I can’t recover and think about what I need to do to escape from the cycle of slavery, where I’m making no money at all, yet I am completely and hopelessly exhausted and have no time left to do anything else, and no energy. I am burning up all of my energy going to work, but making not enough money, and there is no hope for this except to get a second job, and work EVEN MORE hours – I won’t get into the discussion again about how I think that if they are going to make this law that says that everyone working more than 40 hours has to be paid overtime, then the law should either REQUIRE employers to GIVE people this overtime, or else the law should be removed, or SOMETHING. Everybody circumvents the law by just NEVER GIVING ANYBODY OVERTIME, no matter how desperately they need it, even if they would be willing to work at the regular rate, just so that they could get MORE MONEY *AT ALL* rather than nothing, because the finite amount that you can make, at the maximum of forty hours, ISN’T ENOUGH. Everybody gets two jobs, which is stupid. You shouldn’t have to do that because of this law! Either close the loopholes, or remove the law. Make the law stronger, or else remove the law entirely, but don’t put us in this position where forty hours isn’t enough, but forty is all that you can ever get, period, the end, unless you get a second job. It’s stupid that it has to be that way. It should be that if someone WANTS to work more than forty, and requests it, then it should be required by law that their employer HAS TO GIVE IT TO THEM, if it’s possible – for instance, if you have 300 people who are all working only 10 hours each, that means nobody gets overtime. That’s what all the employers always do.

Oh no, then we’d have mass unemployment because then you’d have all these businesses where they had only two employees doing all the work of 300 people, and getting overtime, with no room to hire anyone else. I don’t have time for this argument.

What we need are ROBOTS, because we shouldn’t have to be doing all this work anyway! Then we would have to admit that all that any human really needs is SUBSISTENCE! You need permission to go live on a piece of land for free, with NO BILLS TO PAY AT ALL in the form of money, and also not in the form of ‘give us a percentage of your crops,’ like feudalism. No payments at all in any form, and permission to live on the land and get what you need from the land, but with some rules and restrictions, like ‘You’re not allowed to go hunt all the deer and sell them to China.’

https://youtu.be/bzFv1xIYryw?si=TUrxFvZKXSmPqQws

When Ripley wakes up, back on Earth – I believe it’s Earth that they’re on – the people who talk to her and find out what happened immediately sent a message out to the planet that she had been on, where the alien eggs were. They had a terraforming colony out there. The message told them to send somebody out to the coordinates of the crashed alien ship that had the parasitic alien eggs on it. I never noticed this detail before. I never understood all the nuances of the story. I watched the first ‘Alien’ a couple weeks ago, so it’s still fresh in my memory. They deliberately wanted to bring back ‘samples’ of this alien, to use it, on purpose. That mission was immediately reawakened as soon as they started talking to Ripley and found out what happened. They’re like, ‘Oh, wow, the mission failed? Well, we’ll just start it up again!’ It was however many years that had gone by, too, since Ripley had left, and yet, this long-term mission was still intact, the goal of acquiring these dangerous, hostile aliens and keeping them somewhere to be used. I had never paid attention to the first few minutes, and this might be a long version of the movie too. I never noticed that they had sent a message out to this terraforming colony, TELLING someone to go out there and start looking at the coordinates of the alien ship, to start the process of getting people infected and killed by this parasite, and to give them an excuse to go out there again and collect it. It strikes me as realistic and believable, because I know, at the age of 49, that human beings REALLY ARE that evil, and they REALLY WOULD tell somebody to go out there and deliberately get them infected with this horrifying monster, just so that they could collect it and keep it somewhere for their own use. I completely believe that this is a realistic thing that happened in the movie. Years ago, I might have said, ‘No! People are NEVER that evil!’ I have learned that actually, they are.

It’s also believable how they’re interrogating Ripley, threatening to get her in trouble for destroying the ship, and blaming it all on her like she just randomly did something, and like she was crazy, and then they say that she’s required to get psychiatric evaluations. And they took away her license to be a, whatever position she was in, I forget the title. They took away her title and her license. Meanwhile, they’re secretly going like, ‘Oh? You didn’t bring back the alien specimen? Well, jeez. We’ll have to try again!’ and they already sent out that message to the terraformers.

It was also interesting to me because the planet that they’re terraforming, the empty rock with nothing on it, reminds me of ‘the haven,’ which is a planet that I myself have been imagining for a few years now. The reason why we would go to the haven is because it doesn’t have a mind control system there, and the reason why it doesn’t is because nobody wants to live there, because it’s a completely unlivable place, just like this rock that the people are terraforming, with the crashed alien ship on it. I only hope that nothing like this would happen whenever we go to make the real haven.

Ugh, I chose the wrong place to sit. I am having a lot of trouble deciding what to do today, and for some reason, I have accidentally ended up driving my car to places that were completely random. Now I am at a random location that is not at all ideal, where I’m sitting in those absolutely godawful raised-up chairs. I KNOW I’m not the only one who hates those elevated stools or chairs, whatever they’re called – maybe there’s a name for them. These are chairs because they have backs, but, for no reason at all, they’re just really high up off the ground, and you have to climb up into them. If there is ever a restaurant or gas station or anywhere where they have those kinds of elevated chairs, and then a bunch of normal chairs at a normal height, you will always see EVERYBODY sitting in all the normal, smaller chairs, and NOBODY sitting in the raised chairs on purpose, unless there is absolutely nothing left and all the other chairs are taken. I don’t know if the people who are putting these things here, in this indoor decorating trend, which I wish would go away, if they’re thinking, ‘People want to sit higher up than everybody else so that they can feel more important and superior.’ Apparently, the desire to be higher up and important and superior isn’t motivating ANYBODY AT ALL to sit in these horrible raised chairs where your feet don’t touch the floor. At least on these particular chairs, there is a bar that you can put your feet on, but not all of them have a bar in the right place to put your feet on, and putting your feet on a bar that’s UNDERNEATH you is less comfortable than having your legs stretched out in front of you, so that your feet are flat on the floor IN FRONT OF you under the table, or else having your legs stretched out all the way, whichever. In these chairs, the only thing you can do is keep your feet tucked down underneath your chair, clinging to the bar, or else just hanging in empty space, which is extremely uncomfortable. NOBODY has legs that are so long, BELOW THE KNEE, that there is that much height below the knee that their feet could touch the floor while sitting on these chairs.

And there’s music playing at deafening volume, with booming bass, and I forgot to put my earplugs into my laptop bag like I keep meaning to do, but it wouldn’t keep out that penetrating booming bass.

So, this was stupid. I don’t know why this particular place is where I ended up. I was sort of trying to get ready to try to feed my cats, but there is a LOT of resistance to doing it, and I am very lacking in energy. I worked yesterday, and I need several days in a row to recover my energy after working. This mysterious illness is making me much sicker and less motivated than usual.

I was sort of the animal-defending hero for a while there, but I am so sick and so exhausted that I really can’t do anything at all, even the simplest and most ordinary of things.

I don’t know what I will do today. I have things that I desperately need to do, but my brain isn’t working well enough, not as well as I need it to, although it’s maybe not as bad as it was. It takes an enormous amount of spiritual, physical, emotional energy to decide to do things having to do with my cats, and having to do with the war against the campground and their genocide and their hired mutilation team, while I also have no social support at all from the people around me, except the most minimal support from a small number of friends, who don’t directly help me with cat-related or war-related activities or genocide-related activities, and some financial support from my family, but not a TON of financial support, so that I don’t have millions of dollars to work with, but just enough for my minimal needs; and the mind controllers, whoever those handlers are at this particular moment, whichever slaveowner owns me at this moment in time, they are also not very helpful, whether it’s the Biden administration, when Biden is a puppet who can barely control his own brain at all, when he is on drugs or has an illness that makes it so that his brain is so sick, he can barely function, when Biden wasn’t even elected, but instead, a huge fake ballot operation pretended to put him in office. And Trump WASN’T WRONG when he decided to walk away carrying the ‘nuclear football,’ because IT IS TRUE that our country was completely taken over by a hostile foreign entity staging a fake election. Elections are always corrupted, but this last election, the Biden election, was the most obvious and most extreme, in broad daylight, election theft that I have ever seen. So, if the Biden team is the group of people handling my mind control right now, it’s no wonder that they are just sort of ‘missing in action’ and no real help at all.

I have to fight against this unbearable weight, this dread, this hopelessness, knowing that I will never see most of my cats again, because they are dead, or captured, or taken away somewhere, and all the kittens were stolen, and what few are left, some of them are permanently mutilated, missing their reproductive organs and having a corner of their ear cut off, for the convenience of the mutilators, so that they know which cats have already been mutilated, and which ones haven’t been mutilated yet. I KNOW that this is what I am going to encounter every day whenever I try to get over there, and I am physically sick, and now, I’m also working more hours at a job, when I have chronic fatigue syndrome under NORMAL circumstances, in addition to being much much sicker than usual lately. They also attacked me with all these courtroom-related attacks that I have to deal with, and they forced me to lose my job multiple times in a row, and they staged an attack that resulted in me having a permanent, incurable leg injury that will never be completely healed. It’s better, but it’s not completely healed back to the way it should be.

So, I don’t have any support at all in this war. I know that other people out there, in far away places on the internet, are aware of the fact that we are having a secret, invisible war that looks like peace. But I don’t interact with those people directly in my day-to-day life.

Oh, I almost forgot, I was going to describe the sexual images from the dreams. The ‘purple pipes train’ thing is probably referring to female genitals. I don’t use these symbols, I can’t stand these kinds of symbols, and I myself am as literal-minded as a person can possibly be; however, I am aware of the fact that OTHER people use these symbols. The ‘train tracks’ are probably referring to the labia on the female genitals, which are two side-by-side lines, and the ‘train’ might be the clitoris. The ‘purple pipes’ could be the blood vessels inside. Or the ‘train’ could be whatever object is touching the genitals, and maybe not the genitals themselves.

I also don’t ever use the word ‘kill’ to refer to anything that could ever be good or desirable, or anything sexual. I do not ever use the word ‘death’ or ‘kill’ to refer to orgasm; however, once again, I am aware that other people refer to it that way. If you ‘kill’ a man in a dream, and he gets back up again and seems to be unharmed, it’s probably referring to giving orgasms to men and not actually killing them. So whenever I talk about anybody killing my cats, being the literal-minded person that I am, I am always, 100% of the time, referring to literal cats and literal death, and NEVER to anything like ‘slaying pussy,’ a phrase that I do not use and will never use on my own.

It takes a huge amount of energy to fight a war against a large gang of people who are utterly evil, who will stop at nothing, who have a huge amount of financial resources and social connections, who are control freaks obsessed with watching everything you do so that they can sabotage you, and who are also using electronic weapons, electronic mind control, remote neural monitoring, flying drones, and other things to watch whatever you’re doing, and yet, you still have to fight this hopeless war anyway, by yourself, with no help from anybody on earth who agrees with you.

My therapists are people who GET PAID to listen to me and try to help me. I am routinely seeing two different people whose jobs are slightly different, but similar, and yet, it’s not the same as a two-way relationship of give and take, where I listen to THEM, in return, and ask them all about their lives, and find out where they came from, and find out all the experiences that they have gone through, and care about what THEY want, and try to help them get it, and have a friend who is spending time with me because our relationship is inherently rewarding to them, and not because they are being paid. These two counselor-type people are very nice, they genuinely like me, and it is my opinion that BOTH of them are actually female ENFPs; and yet, there is a boundary on our relationship. Neither of them can take any real risks or put their lives on the line for me when it matters.

I’m also heterosexual, so there are limits on what kinds of
relationships that I feel comfortable having with other women, and I’d like to find heterosexual men to be my life partners. I don’t mean that I don’t want any women at all in my life, only that there is some limit on what kind of relationship that I can have with them.

So when I say that I want real friends who agree with me, who also aren’t being paid to listen to me or help me, and who I am also reciprocating to, listening to them in return, learning about them in return, caring about their well-being in return, asking about their lives, doing something for them in return, other than one or the other of us just being paid by somebody – when I say ‘real friends,’ I mean people who will actually consider making that decision, ‘Do I agree with her, or not? Do I believe her, or not? What does that mean for the real-world actions that I will take? What kind of risks am I willing to take for her? What kinds of sacrifices am I willing to make for her?’ Someone who is actually fighting the war alongside you knows that this is a real war with real consequences. There is REAL DEATH in this war. There is a huge, enormous loss of life. My own life is completely sabotaged by an electronic mind control system. I want to build effective shielding, but I don’t have that yet, and that costs a lot of money.

This war looks invisible to everybody else. It just looks like we’re sitting here in the middle of Pennsylvania, surrounded by trees and mountains and farmland. There are no bombs falling from the skies, and most of the time, nothing is on fire. There are usually no dead bodies lying in the streets. But I am telling you, this is a real, literal war, right now, here, and we are not at peace. If an electronic mind control system is following me everywhere I go, not letting me escape from it for even a second, and if I don’t WANT that to be there, then I am at war with the people who are building and operating this mind control system. And now, the war is becoming more visible, if I am seeing actual physical humans who are gangsters, doing utterly evil things like mutilating the cats, and I mean beyond just the ‘socially acceptable’ trap neuter return, but blatant mutilation that other people would also object to, like ripping off Lassie Leaf’s leg and poking her eyes out, which is what they did. They also dropped poison on the ground, and were witnessed by the neighbor doing it, and another kitten died, in addition to a whole bunch of other kittens and cats being killed in various ways over a period of time before that. These things, this war, is now visible and obvious and physical, and has gone beyond just an invisible mind control system that I hate and want to destroy.

I’m not sure why, but I remembered my dreams several times recently. That almost always happens if I am on antidepressants, and it did happen when I ate turmeric root a couple days ago.

I dreamed that there was this ‘Chinese woman,’ although she really didn’t LOOK Chinese, but somehow, I just interpreted her as a Chinese woman – she walked through the back of my house and stole the food out of my kitchen. This was because, in real life, I think that probably a raccoon or possum ate some of my cat food. In the dream, this was transformed into a human, and for whatever reason, she was from China. In the dream, my kitchen in my house was completely open on one side. It just had no wall back there. That was because, in real life, some of the cat shelters where I’m putting my cat food are just tents or tarps that are not completely closed, so you could say that one side of them is just completely missing. But in the dream, it was a solid house, made out of normal house materials, but like a dollhouse, with one entire side completely missing.

She walked back in there in broad daylight, and she had been walking around outside in the normal way, passing by, like everybody else, all of the public, all of these humans on the sidewalks in the dream. She just started taking food out of my kitchen. I don’t remember whether I was angry about this, or whether I was just watching this numbly and not judging it and not really understanding it, which is more likely, because I am hypnotized while dreaming, and I am incapable of having any strong reactions to things or acting upon anything.

This ‘Chinese woman’ was talking to me, too, in a conversational way, although I think maybe she was expressing to me her distress, her difficulties in life, how hard her life was, how she couldn’t get any food, and that’s why she was coming into my kitchen and stealing my food right out of the kitchen. But if that was a raccoon or possum in real life, that’s not really true, because raccoons and possums are native animals, and they are actually capable of fending for themselves in the local environment. I’m sure it’s not necessarily EASY, and food is not necessarily PLENTIFUL, and so, this cat food of mine is easy and convenient and helpful for them. So in the dream, I got the impression that this woman was kind of a liar, exaggerating her difficulties and trying to make me feel sorry for her, while stealing my food.

I also had a dream about my mother, but I can’t remember what happened exactly. I already told about the one where she was wearing, for some reason, a sweater with Christmas tree sequins all over it, and she was benign and loving, not angry, not showing anything negative, just love and comfort to me, although she also wasn’t really a very fleshed out personality, either – she didn’t do or say anything that was recognizably unique and special that she would have done in real life. It’s almost like that woman on facebook who was pretending to be one of my relatives and trying to scam me. She definitely did not act like my real relative at all, but she had taken her photo and had a misspelled version of her name.

So, I remember a few fragments of dreams from last night. I was in the woods, with a group of people. These people had a friendly, familiar feeling to them, and they might have possibly represented people from work. There was a train that went by on the train tracks every day. I’m guessing that the train could possibly represent me and my life, because my life is a trainwreck, but in the dream, the train was still running and it wasn’t a wreck, it was just a very weird, bizarre looking train. The weird train in the dream was bright purple, with all these pipes and structures all over it, some complicated pipe-like structures, sort of like a factory, but on a train. It wasn’t a very long train, just the length of maybe the train engine. In the dream, I didn’t see other cars attached to the train, just the engine by itself running along the tracks. I feel suspicious that this is some kind of sexual symbol, which always happens in the dreams. The people were all running through the woods and chasing after this weird bizarre train running along the tracks every day, and they had some kind of nickname for the train. I didn’t hear what the nickname was. In the dream, I was running along with them – I myself wasn’t the train, and wasn’t seeing things from the viewpoint of the train, but I was seeing it from the view of the group of people chasing after it. It was fun to look forward to this scheduled event of the train going by and then chasing after it, although it eventually went away along the tracks because it was going by pretty fast in the dream. Somebody said in the dream that it was gay to go chasing after this train, that they shouldn’t do this because this train meant they were gay, or something. Being interested in a weirdly shaped bizarre purple train in the woods, and looking forward to it, and running after it like this was fun to do, meant you were gay, or something, was the idea that somebody said in the dream. I don’t know exactly what people might think about me in real life, but I have two X chromosomes and have had blood coming out of my uterus once a month since I was in my early teens, so I don’t know if there is any question about which biological sex I am, just because I have a mustache or something? I don’t know. I’m wondering if this is a mustache-related insult. Like a man is gay if he is attracted to a woman with a mustache, or something? Not sure what the dream was trying to say.

I also had a dream that I was physically attacking and trying to kill Brandon, the campground owner, with some kind of blunt object like a stick. This is because I actually am, in real life, very angry about the fact that people have done things like going into the woods and destroying my cat shelters, where I have been trying, all this time – except while being incapacitated by being sick and weak for weeks and weeks with an unknown illness – but I have been trying to set things up where my cats will eat, and stay, and shelter, farther and farther away from the campground, so that the campground people will not see them or encounter them. People still went into the woods and destroyed the things that I was setting up, although now I would describe it more as ‘disturbing’ rather than ‘destroying,’ because they haven’t been outright destroyed recently. But I am angry enough about the harassment, and also about the Hope’s Dream people doing a TMR trap mutilate return, a genocide, that yes, I want to kill people. I don’t have a gun, I only have blunt weapons like wooden sticks, and cannot do very much damage with those.

So in the dream, I was trying to kill Brandon by beating him with a stick or something. Somehow, I was actually succeeding. In real life, he is physically healthy enough that he would actually be able to run away and avoid me if I was hitting him with a stick, and he has also announced to people that he carries a gun with him. Whoever it was that told me this said, that’s because he has already made so many enemies that he knows a lot of people want to kill him. I don’t remember who it was that told me this, though. It was just typical of the same sort of agreement that I always get from everybody I talk to, everybody who has ever had to deal with them, this almost universal agreement that this entire family, the Stoltzfus family who took over the campground, is, at the very minimum, a bunch of assholes, or ‘a prick,’ and ranging all the way up to ‘an organized crime gang of devil-worshipping murdering psychopaths who are also using electronic mind control weapons and doing ritual animal sacrifices,’ which is how I myself describe them.

So in the dream, for whatever reason, this weak and helpless version of Brandon wasn’t escaping whenever I was successfully beating the crap out of him with this wooden stick. He fell down on the ground, and I was smashing his skull with the stick. His skull turned into something else, visually, in the dream, represented by some kind of glass object, like a large, thick bottle made out of glass, instead of looking like a horrifying realistic image of a skull being crushed. It didn’t look realistic, and it wasn’t really horrifying, but it symbolically represented smashing his head with this stick. I was pretty sure that I actually did break this glass bottle thing in the dream. But I walked away, and I looked over there, and he was just starting to stand up and walk away again, as though he was recovering, but he seemed to be in pain and his head hurt. Again, I am suspicious that this is, as always, some kind of sexual symbol, because the mind controllers who write the material in my dreams ALWAYS put sexual symbols into the dreams.

Those are the dreams that I happen to remember from recently.

I’m online now. I couldn’t remember what you call ‘generation 5’ cell phones. It’s just 5G, 4G, 3G, or whatever.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

exulansis
n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.

*************
I haven’t read ‘the dictionary of obscure sorrows.’ I only know the word ‘exulansis’ because of exulansic, the youtuber. She talks about the horrors of transgender surgery. She isn’t criticizing people for being gay, or neurodivergent, or developing in an atypical way, but rather, she criticizes the surgery, the hysterectomies and castrations, and the mindset that says you should keep trying, no matter how badly you’re being hurt by these surgeries. It’s always ‘blame yourself instead of blaming the surgery.’ I think she describes herself as autistic, or at least aspergers, I forget, and I think she has said she’s on some psychiatric drugs, although I don’t remember what, so those things are part of why she is the way she is.

I still have the muscle weakness – it hasn’t gone away. I use the bovine colostrum IgG out of desperation as my first line of defense, but it may happen that I will have to go the hospital and get an injection of R immunoglobulin.

I haven’t figured out what story I am going to tell them, because they never believe me. No matter what happens, they will NEVER diagnose you as having the R virus. Even when you tell them things like, ‘See? I have no knee-jerk reflex, and that’s a diagnostic sign called so-and-so’ (I forget the name), it still doesn’t do any good.

No matter how much information you tell them, they don’t believe that you could possibly have the R virus and still be alive and walking; they barely even believe that this virus exists, and they have a million misconceptions about it. They believe you couldn’t possibly have had this virus for weeks and weeks and weeks, for example. They’ll say stuff like, ‘Oh, you would’ve been dead in a couple days if you had THAT virus.’ No, it develops slowly over many weeks.

And this abnormal paralytic form that I get nowadays, after having been vaccinated, after having an abnormal, improper, incomplete immune system response to the virus, where I don’t completely die from it right away, but I also am not curing it right away either, and it’s lingering and going through my nervous system, causing this muscle weakness, but without a lot of the other obvious symptoms – they recognize THAT disease even less. I would die ‘of a mysterious illness,’ and even though *I* know what that illness is, and I would try to tell them, they would not ever admit that my progressive muscle weakness, paralysis, organ failure, and fatal heart attack would be caused by the paralytic form of R.

How many other childhood illnesses are affecting us this way, where we are having an incomplete immune response because of vaccination? I never had measles, but do I have some weird form of lingering measles now because I was vaccinated? When you get the R virus – with me, I was infected and had the infection developing for up to four weeks, but that’s when I went and got the vaccine and the immunoglobulin – when you get the R virus after having been vaccinated for it, when you don’t have natural immunity, then you get this thing that I’m getting every time, this form of the virus where you DO get infected, you do get symptoms, and the symptoms keep on developing and getting worse and worse, and failing to go away – they won’t go away for WEEKS AND WEEKS, and that’s what I’ve had going on recently.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, for all these weeks and weeks. I was getting sicker and was so weak that I could barely do anything, and I had this miserable sadness and despair that was overwhelming and out of proportion to the real-world circumstances. I know myself. I’m 49 years old. I know from experience that I am almost always sort of ‘stupidly cheerful’ even when circumstances are terrible. I can’t openly express or display my negative emotions, and so all that you will ever see is this superficial friendly cheerfulness. You may see also a sort of superficial annoyance or irritability, but again, that’s all. I have been in a mood where there’s a huge, overwhelming sadness underneath that superficial outer cheerfulness.

The muscle weakness did not completely go away. I’m still eating this powdered colostrum today as my first line of defense, and I’m dreading the time when I will have to go the hospital and get an immunoglobulin shot.

There is a website, ‘Dr. Ron’s,’ or something, where he has medicinal substances that don’t have magnesium stearate added to them. It turns out that, in the manufacturing process, a lot of powders will have magnesium stearate added to them, which helps the powders flow freely so that they are easier to handle during the manufacturing process. However, this substance makes them insoluble in water, which means you can hardly absorb any at all when you take the medicine. One item that he offers is powdered colostrum, and it’s more expensive than the one that I have. I have considered buying it, many times, but never got around to it. I don’t know if mine has magnesium stearate, because it isn’t listed on the label at all. I know that, when I buy herbal pills, they do usually show ‘magnesium stearate’ as one of the ingredients, or other pills, not just herbal things. He did a youtube video where he demonstrated that you can mix powders with water, and they will either dissolve, or not, based on whether they’ve got magnesium stearate on them. The magnesium stearate prevents them from dissolving. I’ve actually taken my ox bile sometimes with this colostrum, hoping that it might help it dissolve.

It’s annoying to have this ongoing weakness and lack of energy. The colostrum did seem to help a tiny bit, but not enough. I definitely still have an illness that isn’t going away. I don’t know how bad it will get before I decide that I will go to the hospital and try to get a shot. Usually, I will have a fever and a rapid heartbeat when I go there, and the nurses are able to see that, because those are two symptoms that they check for. They’ll see that I have a fever of 103 F and a heart rate of 120 beats per minute or something, and they’ll be like, ‘Holy shit! What’s wrong with you?’ And I have to trudge through this unbearable process of telling a story, which nobody ever believes, about how exactly I happened to encounter the R virus THIS time around, and why it has successfully infected me once again, even though I’ve already been vaccinated for it in previous incidents, six times, seven times, eight times, I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened.

I fear the R virus the same way that Sirius Black fears dementors. That was one of the audiobooks that I listened to not long ago. I’m remembering how he looked in the movie during the scene when they are by the lake and the hundreds of dementors are closing in on them – he looks terrified. The people who gave me this virus have successfully destroyed my life, many times, and they are the reason why I am in debt to the hospitals. They are the reason why I have no credit and cannot get a credit card. I guess there was the unpaid Verizon bill, too, but I wasn’t able to pay that bill because the Verizon website refused to accept my payment, and the telephone number they give you also refused to accept my payments, so I gave up on trying to pay them. That was for the Verizon ‘brain burner’ LTE wifi that I had for a short time. I couldn’t stand it. I don’t know if it was, maybe, generation 4 or 5, what is it called again? instead of generation 3? I’m not remembering the right word for this. Everybody is talking about how number 5 is coming to your town, and they’re going to have wifi towers every couple feet on the sidewalk so that you can have an ‘internet of things.’ It’s number 5, I’m just not remembering the right word for this and it annoys me. Anyway, I seemed to be able to tolerate telephones that went up as far as generation 3, but not 4 or 5, it seems. That’s my theory as to which cell phone signals I am able to tolerate, versus which ones give me brain burn and insomnia.

Damn it, I’m not connected to the internet and I can’t google it to find out what is the right word for this.

The mind control handlers are almost no help at all when it comes to protecting me from the R virus and making sure that I can get what I need at the hospital. I’m all on my own, and they’re not putting their own lives on the line to help me in these situations. It definitely makes it seem like I am not a very high value item to them. They’re not really all that upset about the possibility of just letting me die. They don’t put their gangsters into the hospitals to make sure that somebody out there allows me to go through the door and get my immunoglobulin shot every time that I need one as a result of my being an involuntary, nonconsensual test subject and demonstrator of the fact that the R vaccine doesn’t work. No, I always have to tell my story to new and clueless uneducated nurses and doctors who still have all of the misconceptions about the R virus, about how I’d already be dead if I had that virus for even a SECOND, about how I’d already be dead if I had ever had a single SYMPTOM, because ‘as soon as you start having symptoms, it’s too late and you’re dead,’ and other
misconceptions.

When will I enjoy seeing the happy little birds again? I don’t have any cats with me most of the time, except my artificial kitten, given to me as a gift by somebody who was also forced to move out of the campground. He saw this beanie baby at the store and got it for me on impulse. I’m seeing other animals, like the little birds walking around me in this field, eating whatever is on the ground, or little groundhogs as I drive by in my car, or the beautiful boy deer with his antlers growing, and I’m almost having a slow-motion head-on collision in the parking lot with some lady who’s coming out as I’m going in, because I’m looking at a groundhog out the window and yelling, ‘Hi, grounderhounder!’ and hoping the groundhog looks at me. I don’t have any animals to give my love and affection to. I can see the little birds now, around me in this field, and I can feel a little bit of happiness as I look at them, but my energy and my strength is still very, very low. I don’t know how long I will as sick as this, and I don’t know if I will successfully defeat the illness, I don’t know if I have any other compounding illnesses that are happening at the same time, such as, for instance, there may still actually be something wrong with my gallbladder and liver, I may still actually have a parasitic infection, and so on, although the worst of these illnesses is the R virus. The RLI, R-like illness, since nobody will ever actually diagnose you with that disease, EVER. I even woke up with saliva pouring out of my mouth this morning.

So yeah, they’ve successfully killed and stolen and sterilized all of my cats, and I haven’t been able to stop them, because the gangsters engineered it so that I would encounter the R virus once again, and spend weeks and weeks being crippled by it, unable to do the simplest things like walk a little bit of a distance to get to the place where I feed my cats. Having a brain that doesn’t work is one of the most crippling things. Having all my muscles get weak in response to imagining the slightest bit of a difficult task that I have to do – I have been crippled for weeks while my cats are all being destroyed.

It is NOTHING BUT a satanic ritual, killing and mutilating all these cats, but the voices have tried to tell me, so many times, that they are ‘trying to help me’ by taking all my cats away from me. You’d be much more helpful if you used mind control to force dozens of different socionic duals to cross my path all day long, at all of my jobs and places where I go, in such a way that I’m spending a huge amount of time with them – the workplace is the best place, not just random strangers passing by in public places. But no! They’re not doing that. They’re just destroying my cats, leaving me with NOTHING AT ALL, traumatizing me, and maybe hoping that I get together with people of non-dual socionic relations, which is actually very difficult to do. The people who have destroyed my flock of cats definitely did not make my position in life better than it was to begin with. I ALREADY HAD decades and decades of non-dual socionic relationships BEFORE I ever owned a single cat at all. There were decades without any socionic duals, decades without a soulmate, decades with people who were nice, and okay, who I loved in some kind of a way, but not soulmates, not socionic duals, and not somebody who I was able to have children with. These people killing my cats are not fixing THAT problem AT ALL. They’ve just taken away the one thing I had that made my life tolerable in the absence of my soulmates, but they haven’t bothered to actually go and find my soulmates and bring them here into my life. I have female duals, but not male duals.

There was this rule that I was thinking of, at work. I sometimes see people and I think for a couple of seconds that this person might be a dual. Rule number one: They’re never a dual (never a male delta ENFP NeFi type). Rule number two: If they are a dual, they already have a girlfriend. Rule number three: If they don’t already have a girlfriend, they still won’t want to be with me for one reason or another, because it’s still possible to like some duals more than others, or to not be physically, sexually attracted to your dual, or to be less compatible for some reason.

There are more rules and more if’s, such as, if they are attracted to me, they are more likely to be a lesbian or a transman, instead of a cisgender heterosexual man. If they are attracted to me, they are more likely to be someone that *I* am not attracted to very much, for various reasons. Or there will be some OTHER problem, something unexpected that doesn’t even fit into these rules, such as, that one time when I met a guy who was an ENFP, and really smart, and as compatible as I could reasonably expect a person to be, but unfortunately, he was using benzodiazepine, and I reacted so badly to the small quantities of drug residues that I got from him, secondhand, from touching anything he touched, from breathing the air that he exhaled, from touching him, that I became deathly sick from it and couldn’t stand to be around him because of my chemical sensitivity. He was one of the worst tragic losses. I couldn’t even be around him at all without having horrible reactions to secondhand benzodiazepine.

So these voices in my head who tell me that they’re ‘trying to save me’ or ‘trying to help me’ by destroying my entire flock of cats, leaving me with NOTHING TO LOVE AT ALL, while also failing to provide me with a substitute, failing to bring in any socionic duals, but hoping instead that merely ‘not having any cats means that she’ll go back to spending time with humans again,’ as though all the years of my life BEFORE I had cats didn’t exist – why was it that BEFORE I had cats for the first time, whatever year that was, in the room I rented from Mary Jo, whenever her previous renter left her two cats because she couldn’t take them where she was going, and I said that I would take them, and I adopted them from her, Max and Jacob – what about all the years LEADING UP TO that time, when I STILL couldn’t find a soulmate? I didn’t have cats. Cats weren’t getting in the way back then. Cats weren’t acting as a substitute for human companionship back then. How exactly are you making some kind of huge, inconceivable, amazing change in my life, by destroying my flock of cats, when I’m just back at square one where I already was, for decades, with nothing, and also no comfort at all from cats? That’s not what I call ‘saving me’ or ‘helping me.’

I’m remembering the word ‘exulansic,’ the name of that youtuber who kept getting banned, and I guess she’s still on Rumble. The word means that it’s impossible to explain your experiences to people, because they are so strange, and so far from the norm, that you would have to just tell the whole story of everything from the beginning, and they would have to believe you, and understand you, the whole way through it, and it’s just unexplainable.

I am not responding with this overwhelming feeling of muscle weakness all over my whole body today, every time I think of anything difficult that I have to do. It was horrible. It was like my whole body melted and became completely helpless every time I would even think a thought about something difficult I had to do, or even something relatively small that wasn’t that big of a deal. I am hoping that it continues to stay this way and keep on healing the way it is today. I feel improved, but I am uncertain whether I will stay that way.

I wanted to go back and feed the cats again, and I left because it was thunderstorming – only to find out that the thunderstorm was trivial and far away, and it would not have bothered me on the particular mountain that I was on. I wanted to go back this morning, but I am really hesitating to go there before work. I have to save my energy and try to get through the work day, and also, I am getting
emotionally traumatized when I find things like my cat Jenny got caught by the TMR trap-mutilate-return program that’s going on. I have a whole bunch of cats who I haven’t seen in WEEKS, and I am going to assume that they are either dead, or else they’ve been taken away by the TMR and are now in some unknown location. I actually think that somebody was taking my cats and driving them in a car and putting them into a particular place, because one of them appeared there strangely, when I knew he wouldn’t walk there. I don’t know how many might have possibly been taken to that place, because I haven’t seen them. I thought maybe I saw one cat, and it ran away and I called for it, and it meowed back at me, but it only meowed one time, and it wouldn’t meow again when I kept calling, and it didn’t come over. So maybe it wasn’t even one of my cats, I don’t know, I didn’t get a good look at it.

I just don’t want to be traumatized right before going to work again. I have to try not to lose this job or do anything stupid. I want to avoid getting upset and crying and leaving work in the middle of my shift the way that I did the other day. That was the day that I couldn’t stop crying because I had seen Jenny the cat after she had been trap-mutilated-returned.

I really need to buy myself a whole bunch more earplugs and put boxes of them everywhere in all of my belongings and in my car, so that I can’t lose them or forget them. I should have a bag of earplugs available with me at all times every time I take my computer bag anywhere. I’ve been sitting in a new location recently, because the chairs are normal sized, not those horrible, horrible torture chairs that are extremely tall and your feet can’t touch the floor, like the ones in a bunch of places, and the place where the chairs are is relatively out of sight and out of the way, so it’s less distracting, and SLIGHTLY less noisy, but I am still tortured by an unavoidable and horrific noise generator up in the ceiling, the intercom, playing, quote unquote, ‘music.’ Overhead intercoms playing music will be made ILLEGAL whenever I become the queen of my own dictatorship. Now that I’m no longer suffering from overwhelming and incapacitating muscle weakness at the mere thought of anything difficult, my imagination is more expansive and I am able to conceive of things that are difficult, unlikely, or impossible.

Monday is Memorial Day. I keep thinking I want to do this or that, or go to this place, but it’s going to be closed on Monday. I have things I need to do.

I must be feeling SLIGHTLY better, because I am once again able to imagine myself doing projects that are outside the realm of things that I am able to do right now, today, in a hurry. When I was much sicker and weaker, I couldn’t even think about doing any other project besides merely coping with the immediate emergencies of life. But now, once again, I am able to start thinking about stuff like a
wool-related project. I still need to do projects involving sewing, knitting, fibercraft, knitting machines, felting, and getting brand new wool that hasn’t been processed yet and making it into something. I had been planning – before totally losing all control of my entire life, which has happened this year – I had been planning on going online and repeatedly buying a whole bunch of different batches of fresh unprocessed wool. You can get those at several different sites where people sell arts and crafts or sell anything random at all, just the whole shorn wool of a sheep. The word isn’t coming to me. The ‘whole thing.’ It isn’t a ‘pelt,’ because that’s the skin. You just buy a big bag of unprocessed wool. I had been planning to start doing that and making whatever I wanted, like making felt out of it. But I need a location where I am able to do this. Now that I no longer am feeling the sensation of overwhelming muscle weakness, I am actually able to think a thought about a difficult potential future project that goes beyond merely the emergencies of existing.

I want to have ‘a wool blanket on every desktop,’ like Bill Gates. I looked up the quote, and it was something like, ‘A computer in every home, running Microsoft Windows,’ or something like that. The concept was that this was a universal need that everybody would be able to find a use for. Well, I want to bring back wool.

I saw a couple of interesting youtube videos that were recommended, which were about managing trees, like pollarding. They were talking about pollarding trees and using the branches as fodder for something like sheep. This is the type of thing that I would want to do, because it doesn’t completely chop down a forest to replace it with nothing. It still keeps a lot of trees, but there are more spaces between them. It isn’t shady enough to grow ginseng, so you would still need dense forest for the shade-requiring plants. It would be possible to have more sheep farms that weren’t completely treeless. I only think of sheep because they are very easy to obtain. Ideally, I’d want native animals, and one of the native animals that I want to increase is the non-hybrid American bison. However, lacking the ability to quickly and easily run to Walmart or the grocery store and grab one of those, it’s easier to think of how I would obtain some sort of domesticated sheep. It seems cheaper and more plausible and more likely to happen in reality, whereas obtaining samples of non-hybrid American bison for a species restoration program seems like it would be harder and would require a lot more difficult steps to get it done.

The native animals that live around here don’t necessarily produce thick wool to stay warm in the winter. Instead, they have other ways of keeping warm. I was asking chatgpt about this a few months ago. Some animals do things like change their blood circulation whenever they get cold, although I’m not remembering the exact details offhand. All these common local animals, like the groundhogs, possums, raccoons, and deer, those things that I most commonly see, and, less often, skunks, or porcupines – I’ve seen all of them – and that’s not to mention the millions of birds – how do they stay warm and survive? They don’t all have thick wool coats. Their alternative ways of keeping warm are not necessarily helpful to me – I can’t adopt a strategy of doing something to change the way my blood circulates as a way of keeping warm when I’m cold.

Anyway, I was going to complain that there are some people out there who absolutely hate wool. I know a specific person. I had a
conversation with this person. She actually gave me a couple of wool sweaters that she wanted to get rid of because she hadn’t liked them. Lo and behold, the sweaters that she gave me, I’m 100% certain that they are a blended fiber that has nylon or something in it, just by the way that they feel, although it doesn’t have a tag. I also suspect that some people have made things out of the wrong type of wool for a particular purpose. It just so happens that, over all the centuries, there have been different breeds of sheep that have developed. Some people have been unlucky enough to have the breeds of sheep that have the scratchiest wool. Those were traditionally used for outercoats instead of for something that directly touches the skin. They KNEW it was scratchy, and they weren’t dumb enough to try to make you wear something that would put the scratchiest kinds of wool directly against your skin. They would just make outercoats, or rugs, or the walls of the yurt, or something. You don’t have to be touching that scratchy wool all the time.

This person who I talked to insists that she absolutely hates all wool, and absolutely will not change her mind. But she’s probably NEVER TOUCHED 100% wool with no synthetic fibers added to it. First, the synthetic fibers like nylon give it this yucky, unpleasant, untouchable feeling that is hard to describe. It just feels awful, not soft. All of the wool that I have ever touched that was 100% wool, with no nylon or other synthetics, feels overall much better than anything with synthetics added. Second, even whenever I’m touching a ‘scratchy outercoat’ type of wool, it STILL feels more touchable and more pleasant if it doesn’t have nylon or anything added to it. I’m not certain that it’s always nylon, but I think it’s USUALLY nylon. I call these things ‘woolon’ or ‘woolyester’ whenever I am hunting for clothes at a thrift store, when I’m touching them and trying to guess what’s in them before I go looking for the label. Sometimes, they don’t have a tag, although they usually do. Tags have sometimes been cut off or ripped off. I have to guess – is this 100% wool, or is it likely to be ‘woolon’ or ‘woolyester?’ I can usually guess that it probably has SOME small percentage of wool, but I can guess, by feeling it, that it is also blended with some other stuff that isn’t wool and isn’t natural. They reduce the amount of wool so much that it doesn’t even serve a purpose anymore. It’s ‘wool in name only.’ Wool keeps you warm, and it’s the warmest of the COMMONLY available fibers, although there are a few things that are warmer. But if you have only 10% wool or 5% wool, surrounded by a whole bunch of nylon and polyester, there’s just no point wasting any wool at all in there. It’s not even keeping you warm anymore when there’s so little of it in there.

I have touched the softest, most comfortable wools that you could ever imagine, always 100% wool, and I keep them directly against my skin, all the time, for hours and hours, weeks and months and years. I have gotten used to it. The scratchy itchiness is JUST BARELY detectable, but I am able to ignore it, and I am a ‘highly sensitive person’ who isn’t able to tolerate certain kinds of disturbances. For instance, I can’t stand the way that it feels to have certain kinds of grains or powders on my hands when I’m at work, like flour. If I have to touch fried chicken nuggets, there are these tiny crumbs that stick to my gloves, and they make a high-pitched noise that is absolutely unbearable to me, so that it feels and sounds like fingernails scratching on a chalkboard. I am always wiping my hands if I have to touch them. Even though I am sensitive to those kinds of things, I can still tolerate having this 100% wool touching directly against my skin for extremely long periods of time. I might still want to have some other fabric under it, like 100% cotton or linen.

But I couldn’t even convince this person that she would ever benefit from wearing wool clothing OVER TOP OF something easy to wear like cotton. So my ‘wool blanket on every desktop’ would have to let a few desktops fall through the cracks. Die-hard wool haters probably will not be convinced. I want to bring back wool and have 100% wool in every house, and fight the battle against synthetic fabrics and fibers. I want to bring back 100% cotton mops in the workplace. I hate those blended fiber mops that don’t absorb any water. Using a mop that actually WORKS is fun and satisfying. It makes it so that work is a pleasure. Work creates displeasure, anger, frustration, and hate whenever you are forced to use inferior tools that don’t work to do what they’re supposed to do. Work is painful rather than fun. I actually ENJOY mopping whenever I get to use a 100% cotton mop that absorbs a lot of water. I HATE mopping whenever I am forced to use a non-functioning ‘mop in name only’ that doesn’t absorb water, it only spreads water around, because it’s made of synthetic fiber.

I wonder if mops can be made of wool. Chalkboard erasers are made of felt. You can use the scratchiest wool felt as a cleaning material. It’s like ‘steel wool,’ except it’s just wool. I have wanted to try this, but haven’t had a chance to do it yet. You would just make a scratchy pad, for cleaning anything at all, for washing dishes or for wiping surfaces, out of scratchy wool felt. It doesn’t have the material HARDNESS necessary to scratch into extremely hard materials, so it wouldn’t be used for the most heavy duty cleaning.

I couldn’t even see the ENTIRE MOUNTAIN that I normally can see over at Pleasant Gap. The whole entire thing was completely white, all the way down to the flat valley floor.

When I was having the muscle weakness, the mere thought of a stressful thing that I had to do would make my entire body feel limp. Now I am remaining physically strong while thinking of stressful things I have to do.

I actually forgot to do the knee jerk reflex test during the time of muscle weakness. There’s a name for that, and it’s an indicator sign of the R infection. If your knee doesn’t kick or twitch when you hit above it with a hammer, your neurological system has something severely wrong with it. Doctors don’t commonly do that anymore, but they still did it when I was growing up.

I have a better level of mental alertness and am able to use my brain better. But I am also using a small amount of the ox bile, too, so I’m using the colostrum and also the ox bile, and before I started using the colostrum, the ox bile in and of itself was helpful.

I am almost certain that my hair conditioner goes through the skin and causes arthritis. I have only washed with shampoo the last couple times, to test it. My injured knee is much less swollen and inflexible now that I’m not using that greasy conditioner.

I also forgot that it was possible to take the insoles out of shoes. I actually was talking to one of my counselors about how my feet are hurting at work, and she reminded me that I could try those little cushioned insole insert things. I never have tried them before, so I gave it a try, but I actually put them into my shoe ON TOP OF the existing insole, instead of taking out the old one and putting the new one in. That made it so that I had a double insole, and the heel was so high, it was like walking on high heels, which was even worse. I decided to take it out, and it occurred to me that I could also take out the original insole, too. One of the things that my feet kept wanting was to get out of the shoes and be on a FLAT surface. When my feet are in pain at work, I would start taking off the shoes and just walking on the hard floor in my socks, and it actually felt better than being in my shoes.

So I took out the new added insole, and I also took out the old original insole, and now, there’s nothing between me and the inside of the bottom of the shoe, and it feels much better. My feet are flat on the ground the way they’re supposed to be, without having a raised heel.

I am also a believer in taking off horseshoes. Horses should have no shoes at all, ever.

I have been forced into a position so many times where it seemed like I was going to die without treatment, where I would have to argue with hospital employees to convince them that their previous vaccinations had failed, and they refused to believe it, over and over, and would have just let me die.

Even after covid, even after all that, people STILL believe that vaccinations work.

The storm is going over, but it’s not that bad yet. I tried taking a rest in my car for a few minutes, but couldn’t sleep. I could feel the electric fields coming from the clouds. The red and yellow blobs on the radar are still coming towards me and haven’t gotten here yet. They are not huge and will pass over quickly, but still, I can’t sleep out in the car until they’re gone.

The story of the R: It was a few years ago, somewhere in the 20-teens, but I don’t remember what year. I had just gotten Jacob and Max and was living in an apartment. I mentioned on craigslist that I wanted to give my two cats to somebody else, but I was hoping that somebody would take care of them the same way that I would, and I mentioned that, since these two cats had already been vaccinated, they didn’t need to get repeatedly vaccinated again, and I was hoping that somebody else out there would understand that and continue to take care of them the same way. I don’t believe in yearly recurring vaccinations, and believe they are probably harmful. At the very least, they are an unnecessary waste of money and source of profit for deceptive fearmongers.

But there are evil people reading the ads on craigslist. One of them sent me a reply saying, ‘I’d love to come over and play with the kitties and the pussy.’ That night, an anonymous gangster approached my apartment, bringing with him an animal that came from a secret lethal disease laboratory, where they keep lethal diseases and release them on purpose. I have to assume that’s where it came from. This animal fought with my cat. I carried the cat inside after this, and I smelled all over the cat that there was this foul-smelling saliva, and I didn’t know at the time that this was the recognizable, unique flavor and smell of the R virus.

Over the next few days, the cat showed some minor symptoms, but got over it. He was irritable and chased after me and bit my ankle a little tiny bit. But I was already having symptoms on the very first day just from smelling it. I began developing symptoms over the next four weeks, until finally I felt like I was going to die, and I went to the hospital and got the vaccine. I developed every symptom, such as hydrophobia and aerophobia. I became unable to swallow water. I felt a sensation of pressure in my head. The symptoms were terrible at nighttime, but were much less bad in the daytime.

The worst symptom was this feeling of terrible, miserable unhappiness, despair, and hopelessness. I have never felt such a persistent despair in my life. It was this certainty that I was going to die. It was this FEELING in my whole body.

I got the shots. The first shot was immunoglobulin. It cured me completely within less than an hour, and mostly, less than five or ten minutes. All the symptoms were immediately gone and did not return. It is perfectly curable with immunoglobulin, and it is not merely being ‘treated,’ or ‘managed,’ but rather, it completely goes away in one shot, just like permanently curing some kind of bacterial infection with antibiotics.

I became an involuntary test subject who was then forcibly exposed to this same thing repeatedly over the next few years. The preventive vaccines DO NOT WORK. If they change anything at all or do anything at all, they cause you to develop a paralytic form of the disease, which is sneaky and hard to diagnose. I had this happen many times, some number which is greater than five times, maybe less than fifteen times, but it might be around ten times, because I have stopped counting and I have lost track of how many times this has happened. I would have to go to the hospital and inform them that I needed this vaccine, and they would always ask if I had gotten it before. If I told the truth and said yes, then they always dismissed me out of hand, leaving me to die and just assuming that, of course, the vaccines work and I couldn’t possibly need immunoglobulin again. But the vaccines don’t work. The immunoglobulin cured me immediately every time I was able to convince them to give it to me. I started driving to different hospitals in different towns so that they wouldn’t have a record saying that I had already gotten this vaccine before. At one hospital, there was a Nazi doctor who gave me a shot of some unknown drug instead of the vaccine, when I had to return several times to get more shots. The shot was different from all the others. It was a bright magenta color, and the volume of the syringe was huge. It was a very large volume of liquid, with a very large gauge needle that was extremely painful and had to sit there for a very long time, waiting for the very large volume of liquid to go in. It was totally abnormal. I asked the nurses if this was normal, and they said no, all the shots were supposed to be exactly the same, and they said it was abnormal, and not protocol, for the official ‘doctor’ to insist that he had to be the one to see me privately in his office without the nurses. The nurses had been saying that they were going to give me my shot that day, and this Nazi psychopath said no, he wanted to see me himself, and he gave me a non-standard shot of an unknown drug, which affected me mentally for weeks afterwards, while he also looked at my bare legs on the table in a creepy way.

Since that time, I learned somewhere, by reading online, that actually, there was such a thing as non-specific immunoglobulin. I had mistakenly believed that all immunoglobulin was made specifically by the body in response to one specific virus, but no, it turns out that there are generalized forms of immunoglobulin that treat a bunch of different things. The one that I wanted was IgG. I found out, that of all things, it is right there in bovine colostrum, which can be bought over-the-counter for a small number of dollars in a powdered form, although I don’t recommend the disgusting ones that have probiotics added to them. I tried it for my R-Like Illnesses the next time I had one, and it worked, so I have been using it instead of going and getting a shot at the hospital, and I no longer have to argue with them and tell them that the vaccine doesn’t work, and that I have a progressive paralytic form.

In this particular recent incident, it didn’t seem that severe; however, it was also lingering and lingering, not going away, for weeks and weeks and weeks, with mysterious digestive symptoms, and muscle weakness, and a terrible unhappiness and despair that was persistent and would not go away. I did actually notice the incident where, to my surprise, I tasted the recognizable and unique flavor of R when I gave one of my cats a kiss on the head, where I usually give them a little bit of a lick with my tongue on their head. I had hoped it wouldn’t become a problem, but apparently, it did, and I wasn’t diagnosing it for weeks and weeks.

There are people who are surviving with antibodies to R, all over the world, who have never been vaccinated for it. They somehow got it, and got the antibodies, and survived, without ever knowing that they had contracted a supposedly fatal virus.

Blue skullcap treats some of the symptoms. I didn’t ever try some of the other herbs, such as… what is it called? Plantain? Water plantain or something.

I am hoping that this colostrum works for my mysterious and
undiagnosed illness this time, with its muscle weakness going on for weeks and weeks, and severe unhappiness and despair, way beyond the normal level. I can use it whenever I want. I felt better within two hours of using it, but I do not feel 100% better, just somewhat better. I had more cheerfulness and more muscle strength.

I wanted to go sit in the car and try to take a nap, but a big, threatening red blob is on the radar coming straight towards me.

I googled something, but I’m too tired to read it. I was reading about stem cells, organ regeneration, cell movement and cell positioning, and bioelectric signaling.

I left and abandoned what I had wanted to do outdoors. It turned out, the thunderstorm was far away and no big deal, but I had no idea of that, and I don’t have an internet connection – I don’t have my LTE wifi. Now I’m looking at the radar, and there are a bunch more storms coming, and enough of them have red spots in the middle that I can’t just ignore them.

The RLI causes persistent unhappiness and despair, far beyond what is normal, even under terrible circumstances. I had also felt some pain in my neck like meningitis. The muscle weakness has been so unusual and so recurring, over so many weeks, that I decided it might be a stealth RLI that I hadn’t acknowledged. We will see if the colostrum method is effective. There was improvement, but I am not totally better yet. I used it with the ox bile too, to try to improve absorption.

I would really like to take a nap somewhere, but it’s hard to go anywhere for two reasons: there are thunderstorms coming, and also, whenever there aren’t thunderstorms, it’s extremely hot in the car. I would like to have a tent that wasn’t in the car, so that I could sleep somewhere cool and shady, but I haven’t set that up yet.

I did encounter an R-like thing a couple months ago, when I was giving kisses to one of my cats and tasted an R-like flavor, which I recognize, just one particle of it. It was on her head. The persistent unhappiness and the muscle weakness has been ongoing for several weeks, along with some digestive problems, and I decided today, with my muscle weakness once again, that it should be treated as an R-like illness with bovine colostrum. Within two hours of the colostrum, there was improvement, but I will see if the improvement remains and continues. I felt stronger and more cheerful, with better muscle tone.

A couple days ago, I noticed that something had fallen off a string that was connected to my keys. I have this string which was attached to a crappy, cheap little magnifying glass made out of plastic. I have no memory of where I bought it from. But they are no longer for sale anywhere, even though it was nothing but a cheap piece of garbage at the time when I bought it. The cheap pieces of garbage available now make that original cheap piece of garbage look awesome in comparison, or else there’s just NOTHING available. There’s MORE AND MORE NOTHING for sale at Walmart over the last couple years. More and more things that I used to always buy are no longer available at all. I haven’t ordered a lot of things online ever since the package thieves were stealing every single thing I tried to have delivered to the campground, which is why, for instance, I don’t have 100% cotton socks.

I know how to order things and have them delivered to a local store that accepts FedEx deliveries, but I didn’t always know how to do that, and it’s one of those secrets that you’re lucky to stumble upon that nobody ever tells you you can do. Now that I know how to do that, I haven’t been losing packages to the package thieves. But I still haven’t ordered a lot online because I just haven’t had any money, either.

This little magnifying glass that I discovered was lost had been ripped off the end of the little cotton string that was tied to my keyrings. It used to fold into a little black vinyl cover case thing, which eventually crumbled and ripped apart and fell off, but I still had it tied to the string. The other day, it was just gone from the string. I think that must have happened at the same time that I lost my food stamps card, maybe. It happened around the same time. I might have somehow yanked things out of my pocket, roughly, in such a way that things fell out and went on the floor, and maybe the little magnifying glass ripped off at the same time.

I didn’t know the food stamps card was lost until today. I had discovered that the magnifying glass was gone. I tried to replace it. Nobody in the entire town has anything like that for sale, even though, like I said, it was nothing more than a cheap-ass piece of plastic to begin with. I was FINALLY able to find something at JoAnn Fabrics, because I knew they had larger magnifying glasses there. I bought something which really doesn’t work very well, these little ‘wallet card’ sized magnifying glasses, made of plastic and covered with little ridges. The image is blurry, except in the one little tiny round dot in the corner that has increased magnification.

This is the sign of decay of our entire society. Every single thing, no matter how small and no matter how bad, is no longer available on the shelves. You can’t even buy socks at Walmart. I tried a couple times and it was a disaster. Not only are they no longer made of 100% cotton, ever, at all, but now, even if you try to buy some normal poly-cotton blend ones, they don’t fit. They were so small, they wouldn’t even fit on a baby’s foot, even though the size range said it was the right size for my feet. You could stretch the sock so tightly that it strangled your foot with compression, and in that sense, it was PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE to PUT THE SOCK ON, but you couldn’t bear to wear it for more than a couple minutes or else it would cause necrosis and your foot would fall off and have to be amputated. It just stopped all the blood circulation, it was so tight. I’m not the only one who bought those and hated them, because one time, at my other job, during yet another time of struggling and misfortune, my coworkers bought me a new pair of shoes, and one coworker donated some women’s socks that she said she tried and didn’t like. It was a package of socks that were exactly like what happened to me – so tiny, they could not even fit on a baby’s foot, but the package said it was for my size. It was like they were trying to save a couple fractions of a penny on the fabric material.

I can’t get Finesse conditioner, unless I order it online, although I haven’t checked Wegmans yet to see if it’s there, but that requires either a phone call or a long drive. I don’t believe what it says if I try to look online, because I was trying to find digital cameras at Walmart, and all the employees looked at the online page that said they were in stock and they had them, but nobody had them, and they sent me to the other store across town, and nobody had them there either, even though it said online there were several in stock. People aren’t updating those databases properly. I did finally get a new digital camera a few years later, just recently.

So I got those little ‘wallet card’ plastic magnifiers at JoAnn, and I duct taped one of them to my string on my keyrings. Now I have SOMETHING rather than nothing, although it’s not very good. If they would just make something out of glass, but no, all manufacturing has completely left the United States, and they cannot even manufacture a simple ordinary thing out of ordinary glass and sell it locally for normal people to use.

Well, I’m just guessing that whatever happened on the day when I somehow ripped off the little magnifying glass, I must have also dropped the food stamps card out of my pocket too. I didn’t notice it was gone until today, and suddenly I was digging through my whole wallet and not finding it, and dug through the edges of the seats in the car and didn’t find it. I was very dismayed and thinking that this was a new fresh hell that I would have to deal with, going and getting a new card, and also, it’s Memorial Day, and they’ll be closed on Monday if I would try to go to any government offices that day, so I would have to wait several days longer before I could get the card replaced, if they would even be willing to replace it without making a huge fuss about it.

But I went to the last place that I could remember using it, which was Giant, and I went to the customer service desk. When I said that I thought I had lost my food stamps card, she looked like she wasn’t surprised to hear this. She went straight to the safe and got it out for me. This was a huge relief. She said that if it had sat there for longer than a week, then she would have mailed it to the address on the back that it said to mail it to, and I’m glad she didn’t ever do that because I don’t know how I would have gotten it replaced if it got sent to that address.

I was hoping that he would not die. I tried to get him through it. I held them, every one of them, the kittens that I found that were being poisoned during the genocide of 2022, during the same time when Hope’s Dream was doing a trap neuter return. Every time that somebody has told me that Hope’s Dream was at the campground, i would start seeing my cats being poisoned or finding and smelling the poisoned bait, which had a strong, recognizable smell. I lost a lot of kittens during the genocide of 2022 when Hope’s Dream was there at the campground, falsely claiming that all these dozens of cats were dying from panleukopenia, when they were actually dying from poisoning, and I found the poison that was being used. It was a very strong smelling poisoned bait that looks like cat food kibble, and if you touch it or smell it, you don’t even have to eat it and you don’t even have to swallow it, just smell it and inhale it, then you will get severe and uncontrollable diarrhea that’s so bad, you won’t make it to the bathroom in time. It is lethal poison. I held my cats on my lap when they died, all of them, all of those kittens.

When I found the poison itself last year, located in a flowerpot that had been in my storage tent. My cats have never died from distemper. They get distemper, and it’s a ‘childhood illness,’ just like measles. Most people survive measles, and most cats survive distemper, especially when the cats are beyond infancy. Tiny infant kittens may die from it. These were kittens that were large and perfectly healthy and moving around, running, jumping, climbing, far beyond the tiny infancy stage, and eating solid food, kittens that were months and months old, suddenly becoming severely ill and dropping dead within a couple of hours. I smelled and touched the poison that I found, which looked like kibble. Within minutes of smelling and touching this poisoned bait, I had severe diarrhea and severe intestinal cramping, which was what my cats also had when they died. My little kittens would vomit or have diarrhea and die within a few minutes, howling in pain. Is that what kind, loving people do to make life better for animals?

Because that’s what the person did to the cat that I put on the grave. I’m hiding the comments from the Hope’s Dream person who’s flipping out and having a meltdown. Apparently they sit around all day long looking at my blog to see whether I’m saying anything bad about Hope’s Dream, and they leave a bunch of angry comments if I do. Coyotes carry things with their mouths, which have pointy teeth. If they want to eat something, they are going to eat it right where it is. I’ve seen that a body was damaged by an animal that was picking at it, but they don’t carry the entire thing and then drop it down at the dumpster, hundreds and hundreds of feet away, without the slightest damage or the slightest sign of eating. When animals want to eat a dead body, they are going to start eating it right where it is. They’re not going to waste their time carrying it all the way down a very long hill to the dumpster, then change their mind, after all that effort, and drop it there untouched without eating it at all, without even the slightest scratch or hole or rip on it from their teeth. Coyotes have better things to do.