20th January 2013

It looks as if WordPress is misrepresenting my follower figures.  As far as I can tell I have 24, but my front page is showing 57.  I suppose it is nice, if it attracts more followers.  Maybe I should make some blogs under other names and follow myself a few times!

12th September 2011

I just passed a building site on Vitosha Boulevard, a deep one for the metro, I think it is called here.  I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it before, but as soon as I saw it today it sent me reeling.  It was like being close up to the site in the photographs following 9/11.  That was my first impression.  I didn’t even think where I was, it just struck me as being the 9/11 site.  My mind bugged out.  I looked down, but I had to get away.

14th July 2011

It’s Bastille Day.  Interesting coincidence.  I started writing something today to storm my own Bastille.  One thing I really regret is the fact that the passport I lost started on Bastille Day.  I mean it!  That hurts when I think about it.  But it was only a document.  The symbolism might be more alive in my mind now without it, having once possessed it.

1st July 2011

I have no idea what it was, but I just saw a bright pink and white bird fly past my window.

She decided to throw me out and was being rude to me, 50 minutes before the time it said on the door (midnight).  I had had a cup of coffee and was downloading from the internet.  Just before I sat down men at the next table shouted at my voice, and about 10 minutes later another man came out and through my headphones the only word I heard was something like ‘die’, said in a really sick tone.  I think the men had said something about the cinema but I’m not sure.  I had just seen Pirates of the Carribbean in Stara Zagora.  Before that I had been buttonholed by a security woman who came up to me smiling asking where I was from and what work I did.  I answered her and asked her why she had asked and she just said ‘because’, so I was upset before I even went in to the film because I felt harassed.  As I watched the film I realised I was Serena, Jack Sparrow was obviously Jack Boyd, Blackbeard was a lookalike of my uncle and there was also a lookalike of my brother, who was roped into a tv documentary about a local murder some years ago.  There was another woman I thought might be supposed to be my sister.  The lookalikes of my brother and uncle were dead accurate, and someone said ‘the enemy is soon upon us’ which in the context sounded as if it could be heard as my name.  I watched the credits at the end to see when it was made, because there were so many echoes of Bulgaria in it, and it was 2011.  The credits went on for ever, with name after name recognisable from every part of my own history.  As I was sitting there thinking they were running a tight ship and the credits stopped, Serena was shown after the credits in exactly the same attitude as I was sitting in watching the credits, and I was shocked and frightened.  She picked up what had been used as a voodoo doll or a moppet and got up, and the closing ‘coming at you’ shot looked like a Bulgarian mountain road.  I was the only person left in the theatre at that point.  The woman at the hotel who said I was being disruptive (I suppose that is where it came from) was rude 50 minutes before I expected to have to leave.  She said they had had a hard day and I said I had too but they were paid to deliver the service on the door.  She said it was a restaurant not a coffee bar and I had to leave. She kept shouting me down.  Yes I was disruptive afterwards, on the street, if hysterical fear and anger in a situation like mine can be cynically so called.  This suggestion that I am not welcome in Bulgaria anymore, is it true and if so, why haven’t I heard officially?  As I left she was watching me like a hawk, right into my eyes, and at every sign of distress she was pointing her finger and laughing at me.  At one point she made as if to throw something.  I think she deliberately provoked me before that and threatened me with the police.  She escalated it on purpose. Hotel Elegance.  Prejudice, discrimination, and rudeness so great it was a form of violence.  Awful woman.  Nasty and hard faced and hard bodied.  I felt defiled.

If I go back to London next week I’m not sure if I will be allowed back in to Bulgaria.  This is disgraceful both from Bulgaria and my own country.  If there is any truth in any of the suggestions being put together in BBC news over the last few days.  With all the attention I know I have been getting in the media, I don’t want to go back and get through the airport as if nothing has happened.  That is my reluctance to go back, that after all the official attention, when I get back it will be as if nothing has happened and nothing will change. Except today I decided that even if I don’t need to go back to defend my home, it might be better for Sarah and her parents if I actually attend.  But it might not, and if people are going to act as if nothing is happening, as they always have, and it makes no difference for Sarah, I might as well deal with it from here if I can.  I could do without the airport hassle and the expense.  Except I feel I am supposed to be grateful for the support I’ve received, but the truth is that if people are going to take advantage of me, I feel too traumatised to attend court and speak, I’ve been out for a long time and am not entitled to legal aid, and I don’t want to go back not having achieved what I came for and having had such a bad time, and nothing openly addressed or changed at home.  But no one is officially saying anything.  The men around me started banging and shouting violently shortly after I paid my rent, the people upstairs were doing their creepy spiritualist stuff, and they started and went silent abruptly and all together leaving me feeling stuck and traumatised and worked over and angry with nowhere to go.  I was going to go out this evening, as so many times before when this has happened, and as so many times before I feel sick and worked over and wanting to ask questions and stunned and haven’t made it.  I’ve been in for two days, since I got back.  I didn’t intend to be.  Some form of violence takes place every time I want to go out – shouting, banging.  I want to shout back, but it is silent now, as if everything is sweet and normal and nothing has happened.  Everything inside me feels overturned and outraged and I want to say, just a minute, what have you just done and why?  There is so much pressure on my chest I can barely feel the air through my open door.  I was relaxed, my eyes were relaxed, but now they are fixed and staring in shock and distress.  It is silent now.  The change is eerie.  I feel as if I have been run over and left.  The tones were a mixture of anger and salaciousness.  That is what made it so horrific.  I can’t think.  I go to think about something or make a decision about what I want to do, like cook, go out, and I feel as if my thoughts are being pulled back.  They are pretending normality.  Since this eruption I feel as if I am on a lead.  I feel silently and deliberately controlled and oppressed.

26th May 2011

Robert Elms’ show today is showing as available but when I click to play it says content not working, try again later.  Why’s that then?  It’s done that before and gone on for days.  My blog is in private mode, and I wrote something earlier about not having had children.  Maybe his response to something he shouldn’t even have seen is so obvious they won’t let it out.  I don’t know.  or maybe they’ve doctored it. Again, I don’t know.  I don’t capture the live stream, so I have no way of knowing, and never have had.  I don’t know what gets edited and changed, if anything.  It looked the other day as if something had been taken out, because the start time and finish time were inconsistent with the news times included and their positioning.

4th May 2011

This started as just one note, but has turned into a massive documentation paragraph.

Robert Elms has been coming on all sweet for weeks now, but today he’s full of trickery and has been all the time. He just did something with his guest, something about no woman no cry, and sorry, and my neighbour who had been quiet until then has started the hit her in the stomach hallelujahs.  And he has just said ‘I’m about to play a Bulgarian choir’, as if he was about to end his show.  All that sweet talk is crap.  He is very angry underneath it, and just keeping up appearances because he has a show to run.  They did stuff with cigarettes and religion, really nasty.  A few weeks ago he was showing such intimate knowledge of my computer he even knew when the black screen was coming.  He called it black pudding, almost exactly as it came.  And when I didn’t restore it immediately he kept commenting that it wasn’t coming back.  He’s doing ‘we do’ now, like David Shearman.  And he is sounding so lovely about it it makes it sound as if they are working together.  I have a pink and purple flowery browser decoration, and his female guest just caressed the word ‘pink’.  This isn’t new to me.  I know all his guests are in on it and have for ages.  I don’t think it is just because he is a punk and she is playing seduction games.  They started going for my throat and nasal passages as soon as I switched on, and there was a Nick Ferrari soundalike.  One of them sounded as if he was stumbling over the word ‘name’, but then he started coming on all nasal, and they have maintained it throughout.  I love God.  What they are doing must be illegal.  If it isn’t officially backed they must be charged for it.  But then I think they are all illegal who are doing it anyway, official or not, so this is an interesting situation, to avoid being dark about it.  Why is the lady crying?  There is absolute right and wrong and they must know they have crossed the line, well over.  I’ve been asking directly for help for ages, and they don’t reply, but they continue to use my stuff and go for me emotionally, psychologically and spiritually.  I couldn’t cope with the hallelujahs, so I shouted ‘Satan is lord’.  They started banging at me, and have kept it up.  Violently.  Robert coughed, they started again.  It is 3.37 pm here.  They know it is the silent time until 4pm, but they keep deliberately crossing that line, usually every day just after 2pm they bang or shout, then go quiet.  I coughed this morning and she went into a reversal tongue.  Every station has a Sarah, and he just used theirs.  Everyone involved knows what that is about.  I knew someone in Nottingham called Dale, at church in my teens.  Robert Elms just talked about Notting Dale.  They do this constantly, giving the impression that it is with the people’s permission and urging.  But is it all being got by stalking, as my own stuff is?  But on one of the cookery shows this weekend there was a woman who looked like my mother, and she was making a drink with milk, out of a bottle that looked like a 60s sterilised milk bottle, like we used to have at home.  Where and how did they get that?  They always make me feel it has come from the people they are dramatically representing.  But it might not be true.  He’s doing an east end gangster impression.  A ‘now look ‘ere’, darlin’ ‘ act.  There is something gloating about the way they say the time, as if they enjoy draining the time off my day and delaying the time I go and get help.  They don’t want me to find a way out.  The banging has just become more insistent and violent.  They want me held here by the violence, they don’t want me out and free, they want me out on their own terms, if at all.  I know it is up to me, but this is in your face stalking.  When I write it I feel stupid for letting myself be held up.  Cover to cover.  Who are they covering?  Bait and switch.  I’ve thought it might be a device to winkle out and provoke ‘terrorists’.  Even if it is, if they weren’t doing this sort of stuff . . .  But why is my stuff all over everywhere?  I’m not a public figure, except for my blog.  And my family.  Why are they all over everywhere?  And my buildings and neighbours?  He plays innocence with a guest now, talking about family, and the guest hesitated.  Phone in caller.  did he pick up the falseness as well?  They appeal on the basis of their families, but they are public people and have chosen to be.  For employment, not through vulnerability.  For them it goes with the job, and they know it, but they still use them for appeal.  He keeps presenting me with people he knows are being used at the moment.  ‘Go on, then, keep writing, keep writing.  I’ll wear you out’.  3 seconds later and he hits me with Sarah again.  Are there ball games which involve more than two teams?  I feel like the ball.  I think he is taunting me now with my fear of going to bed because of my neighbours.  It is done by impersonation.  ‘I am you and you are me’.  It doesn’t matter if it is a different gender.  Maybe that is why there . . . no, that might be too simplistic.  Robert, please go to hell.  Yes, doppelgangers.  Doubles of yourself.  A German thing.  My Irish boyfriend at college in the 80s told me about it.  If you meet them you die.  That is what it says.  I’ve realised it must have come from him somehow for weeks now.  I attacked him (Robert) in the first place because of what he was doing, and now he is trying to make out that he is doing what he is doing because I attacked him.  Stevens abound as well.  My brother, murder investigation documentary.  Charlotte Franks.  Frank my uncle, Charlotte house group leader.  Small world.  Why is that?  Is it done deliberately to everyone?  Isn’t that an abuse of the media and a betrayal of the media/audience relationship?  Strong vocal in and out waves.  Covent Garden Tavistock Street.  Near.  There is a Charlotte Street there as well.  ‘The Right Time’.  Slows down, fast, fast, run, come on then, catch me, catch me.  No, not extreme rambling, as he has just said.  I’m documenting the show.  He is talking about walking with a guest, but metaphor and concrete reality and fact are used interchangeably by them.  I am so impressed I feel I should respond.  They would deny knowledge if I did, and use it for further abuse and mockery.  They have before.  ‘Who do you think you are, Jesus? . . .You don’t understand, laying down your life for your community is honourable’.  I think this is an evil misuse and exploitation of religious references, for the purposes of specific stalking.  I’m not just being a censorious prig.  His rambling guest sounds like a complete ugly thug, but he is talking about vegetarianism and lovely companions.  Personally I find that gross.  ‘You’re vulnerable in your head/ you’ll scream and you’ll wail til you’re dead’.  That is hellish.  Menacing, like the rambling man.  They just tried to say ‘it’s only an act, Sue’, as if that makes it OK.  ‘It’s hard to accept yourself as someone you don’t want to be’.  Yes, especially when you have been forced into that by the people who say ‘come’, and can continue to enforce it at will if you respond, or switch you back into it if they need control.  Who was that girl on the Jools Holland show yesterday?  Was that just a song to keep people on board when she isn’t up to it, or was it honest, or what?  ‘You had me heart and soul but you paid me to be mean’.  ‘Don’t look at this crumbling wreck, I did it all for you’.  If her heart and soul had mattered to her more than money and her ambition she wouldn’t have agreed to a contract that gave her money for meanness anyway.  Especially if she knew who its targets were.  But not anyway.  He’s finishing now, so I’m going to get my goodbye in.  Bye Robert.  Thanks and cheers.  All their speech rhythms are manipulative and controlling, switching around all over the place.  Sally Traffic.  That’s what my neighbour does.  That is what they have been taught, deliberately, by the media.  Witchcraft pumped into the community.  My neighbour must be feeling me, because the more I feel free, the more violent his banging gets.  And they never stop, day and night.  This is organised torture.  The banging feels threatening and murderous.  But as soon as I go to say so, to write it, I feel as if I am being melodramatic and ridiculous.  I think Robert and his guests are urging the violence.

20th March 2011

A mother called me a gypsy to her child the other day, outside the supermarket.  That is how come I ended up reading a post called ‘Nomad Not Noman’.  It is posted under the tag ‘Bulgaria’, and it’s about Roma people.  I discovered that MEPs had made a decision about them on 9th March, the birthday of someone close to me, and I thought I would mention this here because the Egyptian Revolution happened on the day of the Scottish celebration of the birthday of Robert Burns, 25th January, which is also the birthday of two of this same person’s children.  I’ve probably said too much already.  I was going to mention the person’s name and my relationship to them, but I thought, ‘just how far am I prepared to go in exposing and making other people vulnerable, just so I can write?’

8.54 am UK time, 19.11.2010

This is odd.  It took almost all day yesterday for the BBC News At One to be made available, but eventually it was, and I recorded it.  Now it has gone again, even though it isn’t supposed to disappear until about 1.30pm.  Its status has gone back to ‘Coming Soon’.

As I write the rest of yesterday’s news programmes are still available, unless behind that link is a page which reads, ‘this programme is no longer available’, as often happens.

Also, I’ve asked this before, how come the news programmes are assigned such a short shelf life?  And why is the BBC1 Breakfast programme not made available afterwards for catch up?  I can’t see that this would be a copyright issue, but sometimes I feel guilty about asking such questions because I think it must be obvious that it is somehow a security and anti-terrorist measure.  If not I can’t understand the lack of availability.  Maybe it is a security measure against the people they are stalking.

I asked on BBCs messageboards, I was told by someone sporting a name something like (blank)wantsdogfreeBBC that it was a copyright issue.  Or was it the person after him?

23rd December 2010 12.14 am Bulgarian time

I’ve got people leaving comments, but they are aiming at my spam folder.  I’m not sure why they won’t go public.  I published one.  I’ve got 2 more.  I haven’t read them.