As I mentioned in my previous blogs, they’re doing a lot of gas lighting to me. I found socks in my kitchen drawer this morning. The socks were not put there by me. I been finding hangers in my pant legs. I’d like to know how hangers can get into my pants by themselves. It’s been happening for the last week. I found a lot of papers under my refrigerator. I keep telling you to keep checking under the oven and refrigerator, because they’re always putting things under bottom of the refrigerator and oven.
To the gang stalkers: Idiots, you’re not driving me crazy, you’re just giving me things to write about. I know how you play the game. You don’t fool me one bit. You people really have no life. Sad, isn’t it? That people would actually choose to live the life you do. I have no choice in how I live my life, because you’ve taken that from me. You’ve make my life miserable, but to choose to do this for a living, you’re all sick bastards!
The “b” upstairs has moved her mother in with her. Now I understand why the “b” is so evil. Her mother lives in California and has been here since before Easter Sunday. I wonder when she’s returning to California; I bet no time soon. The money that’s paid to the freaks supposedly is very good. I don’t know what happened to the boyfriend. One day he passed me in the street and said to me he wasn’t living with her anymore. Picture this wonderful scene between mother and daughter: both sitting upstairs smoking marijuana. Isn’t that just a beautiful picture? I don’t know if they deliberately send the smell of marijuana into my apartment, or the odor is so strong that it comes into my apartment. But the two are always smoking the stuff. And I’m not being judgmental. If someone wants to smoke marijuana, more power to you. Go ahead, become a zombie! I hope they keep smoking the stuff, it makes my life easier. They’re too out of it to do too much damage to me. Thanks, marijuana!
This morning I woke up with a swollen lip. I guess I must have gotten hit by the pesticide they spray all night. I was going to take a picture of my swollen lip, but I’m always out of space in my phone. I keep getting less and less space all the time. They’ve hacked my phone, so I have to keep deleting evidence I’ve gathered on it. I had to decide whether to take a picture of the swollen lip, or delete something more important. I decided against taking the picture of the swollen lip. You see, that’s why they keep deleting space from my phone, so I’ll have to keep deleting evidence from my phone and eventually I’ll have no evidence. But my momma didn’t raise a fool! Thanks, mom.
This being Sunday, relax, read the paper, take a walk in the park, order in some food, just enjoy today, because as I’ve written before, tomorrow is not promised to any of us. So enjoy the rest of your Sunday.
And thanks for reading my blog. I treasure every one of you.
As I hit publish, I can smell the overwhelming odor of marijuana. I hope they smoke a lot and knock themselves out. I think I’m getting high from the smell.
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