The Memoirs and Diaries of a Marked woman
February 1994 - 3/3
I was carrying a few berets in my bag trying to find a street vendor who would like to sell them, and I started talking with this young woman. She was selling hats among other things, but much lower priced than mine. We couldn't make a deal bu talked a bit. There was this incense that was burning and smelled lovely. I asked to buy some and she said that it was a great perfume, particularly when meditating.
And Robleto told me about this "musica ...meditativa" with this short pause to make believe that he was looking for the word, but in fact to make it stand out and trigger the subconscious association with the two previous instances where meditation had been evoked in positive terms. Was there an attempt to manipulate me into thinking that meditation is something of value to be pursued systematically, unthinkingly, and to use my conditioning as a bait to trap me? I believe that this is one of the methods used by my enemy to defeat me. It's subliminal conditioning, if you never get aware of it.
Now it's a good thing that I become attuned to the subliminal stuff, because the last key word it seems, is the word "amputate". Nice. Why do I think that the next subliminal message is "amputate"?
First there was this phone conversation with my mother a few months ago, during which she spoke about my godmother Alice, who had cancer. "They amputated one of her breasts." (On l'a amputée d'un sein) she said. I reacted to the word. I said "Why do you say "amputate?" that's not the proper word. Amputate applies to limbs, not to breasts." I don't know what she answered, but now I wonder if she didn't say this just to use the word even if she had to say it out of context.
Second there is this book "More DOS for Dummies" which I bought at the same time as the Direct Access program at 666 Fifth avenue, the B. Dalton bookstore. This unconventional approach to DOS has the writer give examples of command syntax and give his files funny names, like "NASTY\DOC" or "ITCH A SCRATCH" and there was a long path with subdirectories with names like "SCAB/MOLE/WART/SCAR/AMPUTATE". The word "amputate" stood out because it didn't belong to the same category as the others, all the others referring to skin problems. So I remember. So what's next? I can expect that sooner or later someone else is going to pronounce the word and I will know that that person is being paid by my enemy. It's going to make me think and ponder anew
With this feeling of being hog-tied, stabbed and strangled by my mother, I am able to experience the full extent of her sadism. Sometimes I think that for her defense, all she could say would be that she didn't want me dead, she only wanted me to lose my legs. Amputated. Then I would be totally under her control. That lead me to think along the lines of a syndrome as bizarre as the "Munchhausen Syndrome by Proxy" where mothers hurt -and sometimes kill- their children in order to receive the attention that they cannot live without, a syndrome yet unnamed that could be called "the Boxing Helena" syndrome. The ultimate in control. This reminds me of these poor daddy-long-legs whose legs I would pull off when I was a little kid. The feeling of absolute control over someone and the attending total loss of self-control and guilt feeling.
Then he gave me a reason to see him again: introducing me to some musicians
Tues. 2.22: Call Aide Judiciaire in Evreux. Woman says in an unfriendly voice "It's impossible to give you money" about Provisoire procedure. Says that letter was sent to me yesterday. Declines to give her name.
Thurs. 2.24: Subscribe to NY Law Journal
Fri. 2.25: I go to Criminal Court to pay my $50 fine. I am intent on getting my hats back the same day. But to get them back, you have to show the receipt and I only have checks with me. As I leave the cashier's desk, a black man asks how to get one's merchandise back. I give him the address and say that I'm going there myself after paying the fine. If he wants to wait until I pay my fine in cash we can go together. I ask what merchandise was seized from him and he says it was tapes. "Dont' you remember me?" he asks. "We were arrested the same day and we met at the police precinct." But the guy who was selling pirated tapes was much older, he had grey hair and this guy was defitely somebody else. He says that he's going to move to another city so he can get a vendor's license. Then he asks me if I want some coffee and I say no. He seemed to expect that I would accept and looks disappointed. So I go out to get cash from a machine, I return to pay my fine and go to Police Plaza to get my hats back but proof of payment of the fine is not enough. You need a court disposition. The guy gives me a list of three items that can be obtained from three different offices so I return to Criminal Court. But the item that's on top of the list is not the first one that you need and I wait for nothing at the DA's window, waiting for the teller to return from lunch. Then someone tells me I need another paper first and I go downstairs to room 105 where a long line spills into the hallway. Only one out of five windows is open and I can see all the clerks behind who walk and act in slow motion and after a half hour wait all I get from the teller is a paper authorizing me to obtain an unofficial court disposition. This means I have to return to the court room but everybody is out to lunch and I'll have to return at two pm. Then I understand that I can't get my hats back today, I'll have to return. I'm nervously exhausted.
In the evening I realize that the guy who said he was going to move to another city was a hired creep because he had repeated what I had said while I was in the holding pen the day of my arrest, and it wasn't he who was the tape peddler. Besides he offered me coffee out of the blue, just like another creep had shortly after I had met my brother last december when I tried to sell my berets on 7th avenue. So Mary Kay was really another hired creep, as I had suspected in the first place.
Sat. 2.26: I go the the B. Dalton bookstore in search of books about computer security but don't see any computer books and go to Doubleday. There, two old clerks hang around the cash register. I ask one if they have books about computer security. He says it's not his specialty, that the salesman is out right now and he advises me to go to B. Dalton. I return to B. Dalton and find the computer books downstairs. I ask a clerk if they have anything about computer security and he passes me to another clerk who advises me to buy a software that puts a password to limit access to any program. Then it is not necessary to have a password to lock documents. It's the programs themselves whose access is possible only with the knowledge of the password. I buy the software, as well as two other books, one called "Inside the PC" and the other "More DOS for Dummies".
Mon. 2.28: Return to Software to get fast-card missing in package. Guy says I don't need it, it's very easy. I had called earlier and he knew I would come. He took same software package from cash register desk and opened the clear shrink-wrap with little cutter. There was no fast-card either in that package. Guy opens user's manual to a screen showing the first menu and says "It's like this, except that on the computer it's blue." As I looked at him unconvinced, he added: "Anyway, the diskette envelope was closed, wasn't it?"
How could he say that "on the computer it's blue" considering that it would be blue only if the monitor was a color monitor, and even then only if the owner had set-up his computer to display a blue background. Was this a bit of disinformation from the guy, who was in reality telling me that he knew that my computer was monochrome? If that was really disinformation, then you could spot it when you heard it. It didn't seem to fit in. The speaker volunteered the lie after a pause and the conversation was thrown off course. At this point you have to realize that the truth is always the opposite of what is said. What makes people fall in, me first, for the disinformation bit is that when it is delivered, we have a brief instant of disbelief where we see the consequences of truth and they are too terrible and we don't want to deal with them. Then we convince ourselves that the guy was telling the truth, and in an effort to convince ourselves that the guy is not a liar, we start to like him and act towards him as if he liked us. And the more of a creep he proves himself to be, the more desperately we try to find excuses for the his behavior, because we still don't want to face the reality that the guy was a creep to begin with, so strong was our need for him to be decent.
So when somebody says something odd, something that seems out of context and you rate it as disinfo, you have first to ask yourself "What would be the consequences for me if this guy were an enemy?" If the answer is that he could cause you great harm by deceiving you, it's a clue that the guy might be dishonest. Because if no harm could befall you as a consequence of his lying, then he would have no interest in deceiving you. But if there is a potential gain for him, beware. For instance an investment advisor is trying to convince you to give him your savings with the promise of a better return. If the consequences for you of his dishonesty are catastrophic, chances are that the guy is deceiving you, because he would profit from the harm he's doing you. The obvious way for the business man to harm you would be to disappear with your money. The problem is sometimes we want things to work too badly, like me when I became acquainted with Eric. I wanted too badly that he be a nice man who would help me and protect me. We disregard the warning signs like the bit of nonsense or the disinfo, and we go along with the guy's wishes on blind faith.
When we realize how drastic the consequences can be when we surrender our judgment to blind faith, only then do we have the strength of giving up our wish fulfilling fantasy, only then do we realize how crucial it is for us not to let our emotions rule us and only then are we able to deal with suspicious people in the appropriate way. That is, avoid him at all costs or if you are stuck with him for the time being, be impregnable. Don't give any opinion nor personal information. Speak about safe subjects only if you can't bring yourself to be rude and tell him that you don't like him and to get lost.
The next thing to do is answer the question: "If this guy wants to harm me, how is he the likeliest to do it?" Maybe you don't know. You just met him in a public place and you don't know anything about him. But sooner or later he is going to suggest that you do something. Later on, before doing that thing, you'll remember that the guy came up with the idea but you'll agree that it's a good idea and make it your own. Once you've convinced yourself that the idea was your own, you'll be unknowingly acting out his script, you'll go ahead with confidence, unaware that you're going to walk into a trap.
You know you've walked into a trap when you find yourself overnight in a sticky situation that takes priority over anything else in your life. The flow of your life is disrupted by the new incident and you put everything on hold to deal with the situation. A feeling of despair may arise when you realize the seriousness of the new situation and how out of reach your former life seems to be. What is it going to take and how long before you can resume your normal life? The answer invariably is a lot (of energy, money etc) and a long time. Then you are sure that you fell in a trap.
I had become attuned to the bit of nonsense that creeps who met me with a hidden agenda inserted within a conversation. Like Eric in January speaking of the people sitting in front of us when there was nobody. Being attuned to this pattern made me realize that if I gave the guy the benefit of the doubt, trying to explain what he said in a rational way with a twisted logic, there would follow a game of deception that would end badly for me. So I kept the software salesman's odd comment in memory and stayed alert to the possibility that there might be a trap for me somewhere in the process. I know software dealers have shrink-wrap machines in the back and that they can repackage anything. Maybe the guy knew I was coming that last saturday, and gave me the software package that was intended for me. First the absence of fast-card indicated the package might have been opened already then why shouldn't have anybody introduced a virus in the program diskettes? What if I installed that software that acted like a gate with passwords for keys, to access not only my wordprocessing software but also the very brains of my pc, my DOS for chrissake. What if, after the new program was acting within the Config.SYS file of DOS, I was unable to access these two programs, and tried to delete the new program but couldn't? That would be catastrophic. What if there was a virus inside the program, unless... yes that must be it: passwords had already been entered before I bought the program, AND I DIDN'T KNOW THEM and then I would try to delete the program but couldn't. That's what it must be. Then my computer would be as good as dead, or I would have to get some professional help to fix it. Then probably the computer whiz would be secretely in the pay of my enemies, and instead of helping me he would only make it worse and play sadistically with my emotions, and create new problems. And I would be caught in the losing game: the more you fight the more you lose. Just like with my lawyers and my family. I could always sue the software manufacturer or the salesman, it would not restore the integrity of my computer. And if there was deception, this was exactly the purpose of it. I would get sucked into a new bad trip, but this thime on a grand scale, burning myself up in the vain attempt to regain access to my computer. Maybe this new horrible problem would drive me over the edge. So even after I had read the user's manual a second time and understood the program better, I didn't install the program.
I came to interpret the lack of fast-card in the software package in the following manner: By letting me know that the package had been opened then re-sealed, the salesman was expecting that I would disbelieve the indication that he was dishonest, because he expected me to want too badly to believe that he was a nice man. Then, to re-inforce my shaky belief that he was honest, I would act in the way opposite to caution. Because if I acted with caution, it would mean that I actually suspected him of being dishonest, and that's not nice. There is a kind of SHAME attached to openly being suspicious, and the degree of shame increases with the seriousness of the offense we believe someone capable of. So in order to avoid feeling the shame I would rush to my computer as soon as I got home and to calm the shame of being suspicious, I would blind-trustingly install the damned program. And voilà! Enter password.
Therefore it becomes necessary, in order to avoid being deceived by others, first not to deceive ourselves. If people are going to push our buttons to manipulate us into unpleasant situations, we'd better know what our hot buttons are. Are we shame-sensitive? Then a reaction of shame avoidance will cause us to do something that we'll regret. Do we crave approval? Then the attempt to gain the wrong person's approval will cause us to do the wrong thing. Are we susceptible to guilt, to flattery? Are we vain? Do we take drugs? Do we lack moderation and discernment with food or sex or money? Any of these weaknesses can be exploited by a manipulator to make us do something that we'll regret.
In my case, I had no control over my life when I had all these hot buttons: a desperate need to be loved. I was looking for a mentor who would teach me how to live, a father figure, a mother figure, a man who would love me for real. I wanted to believe that the people I trusted were trustworthy because I could not deal with the reality if it were the opposite of what I wanted. I had some bad habits like taking cocaine, smoking pot, drinking, because in my mind these habits were grown-ups'habits and since my parents treated me like a little girl even after I became a woman, I was trying to prove, by taking these substances, that I was a grown-up too. So it was easy to manipulate me with drugs and alcohol. That's why I got rid of these habits. I also retraced my steps to change my hot buttons into dead buttons. This could be achieved only with self awareness, with the non-judgmental appraisal of my emotional weaknesses and the process of discovering what emotions made me react strongly, and why. Only by knowing why certain emotions made me react strongly could I hope to deflect the attempts at manipulation of my enemies.
But then I realized it was not enough to rid myself of my emotional hang ups and my bad habits. I realized that I was being exploited through my personal interests, in the sense that just because someone said he was interested in one thing and I happened to be interested in the same thing, I would warm up to that person and declare to myself erroneously that someone who like me was interested in this or that couldn't be a foe, and I put that person in the camp of friends without any further tests of trust-worthiness.
By reviewing my personal interests, I was able to determine how some people who had disappointed me elicited my good will. Of course, if they had the intent to deceive me, they had to know what my personal interests were but since they were acting as agents of my mother, she gave them the information. Who better than a mother knows what interests her child. So my mother used this privileged information to hurt me.
So far as I can see, she used my interest in cooking, geology, science, music, poetry and painting and my unhealthy interest in bad guys to make me like some people who had the mission to deceive me:
- cooking: Jorge Maguina, Jon Burr, Jessie Spranklin, Michel Jeulin;
- geology: Jorge Maguina, Alix;
- science: My brother-in-law Theo, a theoretical physicist, seems to have had the mission to seduce me. During his visits in New York his behavior was sometimes unbecoming our in-law status. He would hug me more as a lover than as a brother-in-law. He bad-mouthed my sister to make me take his side. On the other hand I was told that my sister didn't love him and had extra-marital affairs. Sometimes I wonder if my sister didn't marry him just so that I would steal him from her to give her a legitimate reason to hate me. In fact I find the guy utterly boring.
- poetry: the Portuguese man when I was 14, Bernard Sallant, the homosexual who conspired for my rape in 1972, Martin Lamasney;
- music: Jon Burr, my guitar teachers Pat Fleming and John Campo as well as Calvin Jones;
- painting: This Jewish creep with crooked teeth who lived here last year and tried to have me go to his room to see his art; a younger man who also lived here at one time, showed me his paintings (obvious acid induced visions) and tried to bed me; and most recently the Panamanian Robleto who just moved here.
- Bad guys: some men professed an interest in one thing and also let me know that they had a checkered past, or had done time: Michel Jeulin (cooking), Danny, the homeless man I met when I went to play at the entrance of Central Park last summer, told me that he had done time for murder (21 years) and said he played the saxophone; the Jewish creep (painter) said that he was on probation for I don't know which offense. Bonarti, when we had dinner for the first time, told me that he was a bad boy. But they didn't say this out of honesty or to warn me, they said it to make themselves more attractive to me.
I know I'm not the only woman to be fascinated by bad guys. Actually I am no longer, thank God. I wonder what it is that makes women fall in love or at least seek these individuals. I know that every time a man told me he had had trouble with Justice, I had a brief physical reaction in the solar plexus which until now I could not identify. Now I know that it was the flash of recognition of something familiar, something that reminded me of my family and evoked, by conditioned reflex, warm feelings in me. Hadn't my father said that he was a gangster?
Fortunately I didn't fall for all these guys. Some of them, whether or not we had common interests, were definitely too creepy for me. I had enough self esteem not to get involved with them beyond polite conversation. But a lot of harm was done me by those I fell for. And if I wanted to stop being taken in, I had to identify what it was that made me give my seal of approval to creeps.
So it turns out that I should be extremely wary of anybody in the arts. It is among the people I'm most likely to be attracted to that the deceiver is to be found.
I believe that we haste to judge someone as benevolent when we feel uncomfortable with the uncertainty or the alternative. Personally I had high emotional stakes in believing that everybody was nice and decent. I just couldn't deal with the possibility that I was being deceived. Why? Because as long as I believed that people were nice and decent, my mother remained above suspicion. I had high stakes in believing that my mother was a decent person, because I didn't have the emotional maturity to deal with the fact that she is not. The implications of her being deceitful were horrendous. By believing that people in general were ok, I could avoid to confront my emotional hang ups and their causes.
I have observed over a period of about a month that my computer would turn off suddenly then reboot a few minutes later. The screen would become illuminated and oblique lines would appear before the screen became blank. Not everything was turned off, but the screen and the CPU were. Only the green light below the screen and the lights on the power buffer (surge suppressor) indicated that the power outage came from within the system, because if everything had turned off, then I would suspect the power plug. Another explanation could be that it might be due to the weather. It was very cold at the time and people were overdrawing power. Then it meant that the power buffer was inefficient. I had noticed that the light in my room fluctuated at the same period. So maybe there were power peaks and valleys, and things turned off in my computer even though I had a power buffer between the computer and the power outlet. Hmm. I switched to another power outlet but the problem persisted. But the problem disappeared seemingly disappeared with the very cold temperatures.
[cont'd: March 94] [ToC] [Home]