“If you’re looking for rain, you’re not going to get any here”? Honestly, what do these people fill ther heads with? Oh yeah, I suppose it’s drought conditions.. Sorry. When I have so much of me thrown in my face every time I switch on, and hear the stuff they use in dfense, it plays hell with my perceptions. I thought he was saying, ‘if you’re trying to make me cry, it isn’t going to happen’. I seem to have that effct on them when I’m chilled and relaxed enough to phase out a little and ask God to show me what’s happening. I’m not trying to make anyone cry, I’m just trying to get enough of a handle on what they are doing with my stuff and the cruel and violent ways they use it, not to be so crippled with pain I can’t live my life. If he wants to cry, it’s something going on with him, and thinking someone is wanting it from him is crazy. It’s his desire to cry, why would he blame someone else? I’m too tired trying to survive all this trauma to try and engage anyone to do anything.

What’s this stuff they are saying about cold war atmosphere between Russia and the US again? And why have none of yesterday’s news programmes been available for viewing online? Surely there hasn’t been a news blackout? It was other programmes as well, though. Nearly all of them, for BBC1.

Yesterday I caught up with two signicant things fom two significant people. I didn’t say anything. What could I say and who to? Yet they are talking about sniffer dogs sniffing things out and pointing people to them.

I decided, finally,to take the plunge and go home and get some clothes as well. I’ve been inthe same clothes for 6 months now, mainly because I don’t know where to get stuff here in my size.

My stalkers are making me feel that my home and my resting place is with them. I respect people’s feelings, so I respect their obvious misery. But most of the time their communication is so violent I can’t hear what they are saying. Are they saying I’m a security risk, and shouldn’t write? Are they saying I’m putting myself in danger? Are they just playing games with my head, or are there real dangers?

They were talking about spying today. I’m not a spy. And I’m not trained to be. I’m just tired. The media is constantly thrusting in my face allusions to my own life and relationships. They put me so much on the defensive I can’t hear them. Then when I do, it’s too late. I’m past caring, in many ways. And yet I’m not, I care very much.

I promised someone something recently. They haven’t taken me up on it. A promise is no good to you if you don’t say you want what is promised. That’s how it works – it was an offer which needed a ‘yes please’, not a parade of reminders and attempts to persuade. Why are they trying to persuade someone who has already given a promise?

I’m knackered, I don’t even agree with myself, once I start writing it.

I’m supposed to be on the plane to Gatwick tomorrow. I’m supposed to leave the house here at around 6am, and I haven’t slept yet. And I’m stressed out and tense from the onslaught, and goodness knows who is going to be following me, or what I will find the other end, if I get that far. In a way I hope I don’t. But if I don’t, of I’m apprehended or something, what kind of situation will I be being apprehended into? People die in police custody here. I’m scared. And I don’t know if my flat is secure, after suggestions that have been made, and I don’t know if it is safe to leave here. This is really peurile, isn’t it? But I’ve already been followed by the police. But they haven’t moved in on me yet. I wish I knew if anyone was looking out for me.

Emma screeched at me as I left my flat. I wanted to yell back but I’ve got used to feeling as if I am supposed to hold it in. And then I was interrogated by the taxi driver on the way to the airport. Then I got to the airport and it was eerily quiet. Then I was met by a smoking taxi driver this end who was dead insistent about what was supposed to happen and seemed to freak out every time I got anywhere near falling asleep. It’s been one trauma after another. I wish I knew if I was being met at the airport. Of course, I’m not. It is wishful thinking. Oh yes, I said the bit about Emma because they had someone on tonight called Emma Heal. Never seen her before. Makes me think of Emma Peel. They’re using my grandmother’s tortoise, Timmy (lol) Elvis Presley’s ‘Teddy Bear’, one of my favourite songs as a kid, one of my uncle’s records, constant references to everyone, but especially to Tommy Boyd. Some things are too intimte to share, and this feels like one of them. How stupid, how egotistical, how attention-seeking, how kudicrous of me to write this. I can’t say a right thing now. If Tommy is behind this he is going to be really upset, probably. I wish he would meet me at Gatwick, but I’m not even sure if I want to go now. And to be real, why would he want to anyway? It feels like a call, but I’m so tired, I have nothing to respond with. Nothing feels more appropriate, but I’m not sure if it is.

People say I’m proud, just for saying it as I see it. So now I lose confidence every time I open my mouth or put pen to paper, as it were.

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