I hafta process what I have just witnessed…
Y’know, when I say I was taken advantage of by a cult, that’s true. That’s how they operated and controlled those of us that got scooped up into that government reconditioning program. It was Love School, as it was casually referred to in passing, and I learned and grew so much as lil baby q doing as us counterintelligent retards do.
Near the end, we were staying on this large property situated on a mountain. One guy there, clearly a member of a foreign intelligence agency posing as a Belgian flat-earther I know now in present Knowledge, he taught me something just before leaving. It’s difficult to explain exactly how he taught me this, but the gist of it was “if you’re going to poop, do it far away,” where “poop” equals “cheating.”
Why is that? Well, you never know when the person you’re cheating on will see you with your mistress or whatever. Case-in-point: my narcissistic manipulator of a life partner who may be working with his entire family to manipulate me so he ultimately manipulates the state into giving him disability. That’s not certain, but I see how everything he does lines up with that, such as how he very aberrantly reacts to even mentioning his mother, who plays her role very well as the “pissed off worried mother” who will be the second witness to get her son “help.”
What I mean is, he won’t talk to her, runs outta the room when she stopped by, and skillfully shuts down any conversation mentioning her. I just saw him, definitively him with his dopey posture and threadbare shirt he wears to prove he doesn’t care, get into his mom’s hatchback that I’ve ridden in once. Didn’t get a good look at the driver, but same frilly hair.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I saw this because I tried getting him his laptop ordered to have the bank tell me he tried using defunct cards of mine to make an unknown purchase, which would have made it impossible to get his laptop that he does not assist in any way, me being differently abled and having trouble with financial stuffs, while simultaneously barraging me with the necessity of getting this $1500 dollar laptop so he can browse Reddit, write two poems he doesn’t share a year, and do a grand total of 48 hours of programming all at once.
I don’t know what to feel right now. I think it prudent if I just give them rope and see how much they hang themselves.
And I held out hope like an idiot that he would be at the library; that I was wrong. I’m always wrong. He fucked me good. Not literally. Is he a virgin? Did he lie about that too? They’re lying to me. They may have set up today. Why did he try using a defunct card? It’s proof of the financial abuse. I’m not doing good myself. I can’t trust anyone. They’re all lying to me. My father doesn’t actually love me. No one but my mom ever loved me. She never gave up on me. She never manipulated me. She spoke the most Angela wisdom. That is what I understood. She was the highest an individual can go. Too bad Abel killed her potential by sucking her soul dry with corporate greed. Fuck that shit, amirite, kids? I’m not a fed. The feds fucked with me to make me think I was a fed, and thus counterintelligence. Some retard idiot crazy people are retard idiot crazy people. Some are cops. If one is goading you into punching them, they are a cop. They are lures. The goad you. My master life partner skillfully goads me. I don’t know what he is going to say. I crawled through the window and he ran out. He is fucking with me. He went barefoot to fuck with me. He came back in six hours after I intentionally went as insane as could be, to see what his motives were when I was gaslit to high hell. He love bombed me for two days, then resumed the module we were on.
We ate breakfast. There was plenty for seconds. He went SUPER above and beyond, chopping tomato and avocado and I realized he was doing the same shit Daniella did on 4/20 in the cult where she forced me to eat coconut covered dates. Shaming me. I’m a piggy she said, laughing. Awen laughed. She rejoiced at harming another. That factored in to choosing to not pursue continuing the relationship when she broke up with me LITERALLY BECAUSE I WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH. Yea, I was a shallow piece of shit. I invested time and effort and money in helping her lose weight. The bugeng (sp?) collected dust. The weights collected dust. Complained all the time. Dieting is super less important than exercise, unless you’re binge eating or have super unlucky genetics. Working out builds muscle. More muscle = more energy burned. Raise baseline metabolic rate = change the system you are to outpace whatever stressors enter your domain. She said I was like her brother. After getting manipulated to high hell for a year, full psychotic at the end; literally cut into my arm. Like i’ve been doing here. Wow. The cult was as bad as my life partner…he still isn’t here. He will claim he’s scared of me and go to sleep as calm as a Hindu cow. He’s staying away to punish me. Or maybe so I write propaganda? I dunno…I’m so hurt…