• I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    America, thanks to certain politics, is on the world’s shit list again. And other immigrants and asylum seekers are having a hard time.

    With institutional racism, homophobia, and a generally sexist history, many on the left wing no longer see themselves as Patriots. They may even say they’d love this country a whole lot more if it wasn’t currently a bit… divided.

    If you love someone or something you want to fix what’s broken and all.

    But I want to point out an aspect sworn about by other countries. The English are particularly unwelcoming of Americans “Sloppy Language usage.” And indeed the fluidity can be frustrating as context is everything and soundbites steal their lies from true statements that actually mean something else.

    But it’s a living language. It’s supposed to change. It’s supposed to be flexible. And with the ease and fluidity of American English they are so naturally used to listening for context that if you’re struggling to communicate? They’ll meet you half way with what you seem to be saying. If they’re wrong you want to change your wording anyway!

    It’s perhaps easier for me to appreciate the American Dream. While I myself am on my “down and outs”, my father came to this country barely able to afford furniture – and not always.

    A stuffed bear I had gotten for Christmas was really too expensive, but I loved it so much they bought it anyway. Hardly the pile of toys people imagine.

    My Dad has more flexibility now even if he does still panic about money. Post war Britain was like that and my childhood was long enough ago to be affected.

    Now I’m out and struggling. I’m one step from the homeless shelter I was in last year. And that was one step from sleeping in my car.

    I don’t really know the why, but okay. I was cut off for a while and I have disabilities. I couldn’t climb out without help from “The System”.

    But I am climbing out.

    I also had a pretty serious suicide attempt this past July. In England I wouldn’t be worth saving really. I would be viewed as another poor person and they wouldn’t have tried what my ER surgeon managed.

    He did near experimental surgery to save me. New ideas barely out of medical speculation. I didn’t ask but it might have been the first it was done. I’m still here because my heart would beat but not do anything about oxygen even with a tube down my throat. Lungs just weren’t able to get the message in.

    So they drew my blood out one vein,, oxygenated it, and put it back in. I had an external machine as a second heart for a while. And it worked.

    I was damn serious. I don’t know at which point but they also has to do CPR. It was intense.

    But they did it. I’m here writing this thanks to a massive team. No one wrote me off as worthless or unsavable. I was in the hospital for three weeks. Mostly asleep for months after. I really fucking tried. But so did the team saving me and they won.

    America Medical anything gets criticized a lot – mostly because we’re so fucking big it really can vary and shitting on “the new kid” seems to be popular. Cherry-pick failures in a one hospital city and you could be disappointed.

    But even one that screwed me over a few times has my respect from saving my Mom from a brain embolism. Like holy shit.

    It was suggested I sue, but it was a county hospital. That budget would have come out of emergency service pay and I don’t fucking think so. They deserved better.

    That’s America for you, a little wild and free but with the occasional surprise and a lot of people who are pissed off because they care.

    You nutty lot, you love each other and I love all of you. It’s so annoying we have the divides we do because there’s beauty in everyone and this country.

    Being told to “go back to ___” hurts like hell. But others use the hard to learn fluid language skills to help non native speakers communicate. They reach out, they try. They may even know a few words. You just don’t get that everywhere.

    You usually have to adapt when you emigrate and maybe can’t. But In America it’s embraced as much as it’s criticized. Americans love their diversity!

    Good god there’s no way to make this country less interesting! Which makes you as creative as you can be, but not exactly calm.

    Sure we’re exhausted by our infighting. So I go back to saying we agree we could all use more sleep and the changes to make it possible.

    Vacation time wouldn’t hurt either.

    We just need everyone to recognize you only learn the value of a dollar by not having any. Not by pooling it and judging. Boy sometimes my fellow Americans rub me the wrong way. But at least I can talk about it!

    The guardian newspaper had to move their headquarters to New York because they’re protected here. You underestimate the value of free speech and you have it in the constitution!

    Maybe we could annoy each other less if we agree diversity is good, fluid language skills are better, and we could all do with a fucking nap!

    Sorry, just teasing on the last part.

    I can here. Because you’re more likely to get the fucking joke. Some of my fellow countrymen are being fooled by an imposter. But I’m not written off. I’m rescued.

    My “testy” look!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Bas is omnidirectional and travels through solid objects. If someone is playing a low loop loud enough everyone can experience the sound even if it doesn’t seem to register.

    High pitched whines don’t know about. But put something at a high frequency and high decibel and it can make your teeth hurt!

    Seriously my stalker is an asshole.

    Because he’s doing it right now.

    And it’s fucking penetrating like needles in the brain.

    What does he want? For me to fucking kill myself proper this time. Please don’t fucking ask me to back down, because while it is indeed torture? Yeah, No. I don’t control it.

    He specifically wants my suicide not a different kind of murder. He wants to annihilate me. There’s no evidence he will stop if he succeeds in ending me. So if you don’t mind please don’t joke about killing me in my earshot.

    Why? Ah yes, I’ve wondered that too and heard many explanations. But really now it’s about revenge for an act I will never regret.

    You”ll be able to learn what in about fifty years. I’m under no orders but I’m am American patriot thank you very much.

    Yes I born in another country. Yes my accent reveals an English childhood. But I’m American now. And no one can see the beauty of America like an immigrant. Also thank you very much.

    So tired of this bullshit.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I have to keep an eye on her almost full time!

  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I, recognizing my maternal will become publicly available in 50 years but not enter the public domain, hereby permit United States Intelligence services to use my digital signature to stop and catch those using it to commit crimes.

    Don’t worry folks. I’ll still self publish. But each series at once so you can binge read!

    Update:

    There seems to be some confusion about the “why”. I said I would give up my everything to prevent what happened to me happening to other people. I didn’t lie. That’s not an open invitation however.

    Thrilled but accurate
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Using clips recorded from me, and the gaslighting robot me, to surround me and close in with sound, abuse, autofill, and tricks and cons she’s done using my identity.

    “No one knows the truth”,

    “No one will believe you”

    “Just die already.”

    Slipping sliding words that successfully isolates me and turns others into monsters of random cruelty – they all think I should know why.

    You’ve seen ight here, on this blog, lies meant to bury me.

    Did I really get accused? Probably. It would explain a lot.

    But the wife may have gotten a phone call from a robot to split them. Why? Who the fuck knows.

    Some pettiness or thievery, control, manipulation. And the why will change every sentence if I listen to the current gaslighting.

    Think for a moment on what she has done to me, can do to me. Of course she wants me dead. So the truth is wrapped up in lies to hurt everyone around me.

    Individuals are paid to read a cruel script, others insist I must have done something wrong.

    Yes. I’m privately prolific and mentally ill. I looked easy to take advantage of. That’s all it took.

    No one remembers the sweetheart I am, or has met me, knows me, understands me. Not anymore.

    They think I lost my damn mind. My father included. I’ve heard discussions of a true split personality. No one assumes an asshole wants to actually entirely replace me.

    No one listens either.

    But there are some. There has to be. I’m watched and protected. And need to be.

    And not just by Allah.

    The individuals behind the theft of my entire identity – written and verbal voices included – are going against god.

    Just more words to steal for their con. No wonder they attack Game Over – I explain how cons work.

    And now I’m studying a way to pay for a degree in Psychology.. I have a unique root in the subject. And being a writer is not enough to keep me alive.

    But Allah wants his book. A signpost that provides structure and then directs the path to other faiths if more is required.

    How dare they steal words he gives me. How dare they?

    Allah said to be patient. To wait for a month. To approach the whole situation with curiosity. Gaslighting, theft, hacking, harassment, character assassination, all of it. Be curious and calm. It will work out.

    Me, first thing in the morning- needing to lose some pudge.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Reality Abuse creates reality

    Gaslighting changes it.

    So if you learn you’ve been targeted by “Melissa Devlin” – the robot version – and the real one doesn’t know who you are?

    We’re both getting gaslighted.

    Gaslighting is fatal.

    It doesn’t even have to be the condensed version. It’s moving things, slippery wording, inducing madness.

    And that gaslighting robot is helping someone destroy everyone I love so I kill myself as an anonymous body, and she continues to pretend to be me.

  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    There seems to be confusion – accusations I could be heard speaking insults and nonsense. But in actuality my voice – the sound. Was stolen and used for an obnoxious gaslighting robot.

    It uses my language patterns learnt from stealing all my work dating back to the 90’s. Millions of pages of iterative work.

    It seems to have a fighting style trained by X

    It’s abusive, nasty, used for phishing and harassment.

    Well that explains a lot.

    Mood
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    It’s not enough to shit on my friends and family,

    It’s not enough to change and bend reality

    It’s not enough to torture and steal from me,

    It’s not enough to mutilate me thoroughly

    It’s not enough

    She hacks

    She gaslights

    She lies

    And she manipulates

    And she’s copying this right now.

    Nothing will satisfy her thirst to drive me to suicide

    Again

    It’s not enough.

    Strangers, gossip and rumors are against me

    But none so dangerous as the one lying to authority

    The one who steals words of poetry

    It’s not enough.

    Yikes time to wax!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    We’re back to the book and women who use reactive abuse and gaslighting to manipulate and control others. My book exposes all the regular tricks of psychological abuse and torment.

    I finished the main Version of Game Over at the end of 2021 and friends got copies in 2022. Apparently word escaped to the bitch brigade.

    I will be fixing it (again) and going through a regular publisher. But meanwhile I need patience and understanding that kindness is alluring to abusive assholes but not an invitation.

    I am that pissed.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Somehow some woman, we’ll call Claire, got ahold of my book, Game Over. This was on the coat tails of my Dad going insane for reasons we won’t go into.

    So despite this starting roughly a year before, this book was integral to her spouse realizing he was being abused and he left her.

    She did or did not have an affair with someone and either way I was blamed. So even though this started before hand, the break up of two marriages was blamed on me.

    Oh wait no, according to Claire both men had an affair and this was all orchestrated by two bitches who blamed me.

    Quite the home wrecker for someone who didn’t go out. -_-

    This cascaded into attempts to kidnap me, torture, gaslighting (sometimes with the intent to kill me). Reality abuse. Hacking, false reports, threats of rape if they could get to me. And the attempted destruction of my family which got me kicked out and homeless.

    My suicide attempt in July wasn’t enough because now it’s a snuff film or something because I didn’t work out as a Digital Hostage. And I was mutilated for… oh who cares anymore?

    Seriously?

    Just, whomever you are, whatever you want. Piss off. If you’re the one that had the affairs? Double fuck you because you helped them hurt me.

    Confused? Of course. Because according to both men, neither had an affair but I was blamed anyway – by Claire. Who then helped hurt me knowing full well it was based on a lie. What sweetie? You wanted a divorce in a no fault state?

    Okay, here we go again. She wanted a divorce and said Ryan had an affair with me. I don’t know what this has to do with Ranna because she tried saying she cheated with him but it seems unlikely from what I can discern. But I was blamed for that too.

    Maybe.

    Guess we’ll find out the rest of this convoluted tale eventually. Because now it’s people loved her for my writing that she passed as her own but couldn’t actually write a fucking word. Good at hacking not literature.

    I was blamed for having copies of my own work, and shat on because the individual stole from me. And the love others had for my work comes from a place of respect for the heart involved. Which she lied about.

    It’s a long con and because of it I was shat on. There you go. Melissa Devlin rhyming when pissed off. Oh by the way that’s me.

    The rest? The lies of affairs? A way to try to control all of us.

    Fucking bitch.

    I was on the cusp of my career. If it wasn’t for her and all her lies I could have stayed at home and moved out once published.

    But no, I can’t write without it being stolen and am living in the poor house. I would be learning the languages I was pursuing but she shat on those too.

    I guess that explains why she does indeed want me dead. The truth will always out eventually.

    Sulky cat says no glasses for you!