May 30, 2016

Oh brother..

Well the every second eight week prescription of diazepam has been filled. Picked it up around 2:30. We haven't taken eight since then and we arnt feeling that much better. There is fuck all point in trying to make the last, taking the whole "two months worth" at once would add up a whole 28mg.. The human sized rat water bottles they put in our cages if we were lucky to get any water all at probably had double that.

Sleepy and bit better though, couple of beers to. We have eaten food, wahey. Always helps, we really want to eat our feelings. Especially all the John Oliver stuff.  Coming round to him programming and threatening terrified isolated littles with all sorts in the flat. Seeing him looking down on us side by side with lots of others from lots of different rings in many different places over the decades.

.He was cloaked but we knew we was around. We could feel a plunging of our mood and parts dissociating and then remembered the kind of things and the people who dont mind carrying those things that can cause that in us. When we felt out where he was hiding we started kicking the shit out of him. A lawyer or something off his or Comedy Central's rushed forward to defend him. We were glad of the interruption. We hated the look in their eyes when they knew that no matter what they had done to us and ours we couldnt kill them.

We knelt down to be eye to eye Ollie.

"Three kids" .. then floundered, " three kids and Pablo so that's four kids.. twenty years of unpaid child support, twenty years of lost earnings, twenty years of physical, sexual and emotional abuse and trafficking.. And the jokes."

Then got up and wandered over to the dude you had been waiting for this.

The other three were waiting to. We knew we had a swab from Pabs in our pocket and handed it over to the possible lawyer prick and said if he wanted another from Pabs we would have to work something else out without Oliver being there. Wyatt, Louise, the oldest who was a premy born on a copter and was whisked away almost immediately and kept away from it all as much as they possibly could and called her Rose and me all took swabs in front of him and put names on ourselves. We looked up from doing ours and saw the three of them standing there, so calm, writing in the boxes. We were so proud of them, of us and everyone who ever helped.

Think it was about then we checked to see if he was aware of how many of Oliver's associates had moved on. We got the impression he had no idea about half who died back when we were in Dundee, or August 14 or that day itself but weren't curious enough to talk to him any further about it. We did think though about being in the cages with him. When we were very little and we were first shocked at how dangerous he could be but he hadnt clocked back then at the beginning that we could lie and lie well and think for ourself.

We starred back down at fucking name box. Furious with our fucking self. The dude told us not to worry about it he knew what we were struggling with but we weren't convinced he meant it. We couldnt write "Rose" anything on it. Think we at least managed to stick the Rosa in the middle of Julia Stuart.  There was a bit of debate about this from lawyers and police and such and we weren't comfortable rubbing out anything we had written so we said "Why don't we just take another swab and put Rose Nelson or Hendrix on it."

There was a bit a silence. We made sure we looked John Oliver in his swelling bloody face as we walked over to the other guys. It feels like our checks should be getting see through by now sometimes and we often said so. We took another two. One labelled Hendrix, one Nelson and this felt best with us all. We did so in a little huddle, not to close so that it might look like we were hiding something just close enough so that if anyone fell over someone else could probably catch. No one saying much just trying not to sweat or puke or shake too much then it was handed over, with contact details. I said "All rape" as we put the bags in Oliver's guy's hands and the guy giving his contact details agreed.  After that we shook hands and hugged and they left and I went to say goodbye to our kids. It wasn't easy. None of it.

Fuck knows if Oliver said anything else. Probably some abusive or grooming nastiness. He was supported off and I think people held us for a bit before we all parted ways.

We haven't heard anything since.








No. I'll never stop crying.

We did very well to put it of this long. It's a bastard attachment issue. A zero to three bastard attachment issue. We were dissociated bad. Brand new part bad. New toddler that couldnt remember anything about Grandad or anything. She knew pain and horrific adults then she was put in a cage with an older boy who we came to know as Ollie. He was so nice to us sometimes and not at all other times. He mostly did what he was told and we already knew that they told kids to pretend to stand up to them to try and get us to trust them. Sometimes he wouldnt let us sleep and would tell us we had to stay awake. One of the other girls said he was bad and we said he wasnt but we also didn't think any us in there were "good" but didnt have the words for that yet.

He was given the task of keeping us as this new slightly younger than I actually was part from remembering about before. They especially didnt want me remembering my granddad. It broke our heart when we had gotten a bit stronger and had remembered enough from seeing and talking to Grandad and were watching Ollie enough to know he was helping them keep us from Grandad. We started hiding it from him. It was tiring having to be different people according to who was in the room, who could see, who could here.


We stopped sharing so much with him and he withdraw and we were put in different cages more. We were always scared of that bond and the trust we had in him when we had just been split and were just starting to talk. Scared that he would help them bring her out. She loved and trusted him so much and the rest of us knew that even if he wanted to keep us safe he couldnt. Some of us season a real acceptance in him sometimes especially as he got older that we were to be used up by the staff and other survivors for everything they could get and then they would go off and lead lives and we would die. We knew that was definitely how the abusers felt and wasnt sure how much he had internalised it himself. We were too scared to look to closely to find out for sure. There is a real sense that we did when once when we caged at night together and we didnt like what we saw so badly we can remember how it felt vividly and can still hear ourself crying.

We were to scared to check again especially as it was after that he stopped letting us sleep more. It made us feel so ill.

Christ what a state we woke up in when he stayed over in Fintry. He eventually persuaded us to let him near us and persuade us back to bed and held us while the switching and the flashbacks eased. There was a real sense that he was sorry for everything he did to us when we where little and locked up together but we are too much still locked up to believe its real. We need people to not disappear on us again or us to be in a position to not have to disappear again before it would be possible to believe in someone that much.

We were so glad however at how it worked out when Jacqui had us talking about this when we really didnt want to especially to her and we showed a zen like level of acceptance of it all. Knowing the obvious traps always helps though, like we talked about us being seen as something other victims use up we paused to allow her to say "well you are".

It was one of the times when either we or someone else had recently chased the pornbots out of the flat when the phone rang. We were too injured but we were very angry and we knew who over or whatever was calling the landline probably wouldnt be doing so if they knew they had gone. John Oliver. We said we werent here. We heard them on the phone talking about us a lot so we copied that. I don't know how long this went on for until it got to much and we asked him who he thought he was talking to, "Rebecca". We told him we had lied at the start of the conversation. He did a whole "you don't understand" thing and I think we hung up on him and started getting way to dangerously dissociated to handle what ever the women abuse ring police and friends when they turned up.

He was phoning a lot and we were talking. We were in a mess, the "give us Pablo" siege that went on for so long and was so horrible we forgot who Pablo was. Which came in handy as you can image. You cant tell a child murderer where your kid is if you dont remember you even have a kid. He said he wanted to help us and was so good to talk to but we knew we couldnt trust ourself or anyone else with everything that was ongoing.

"Will you take a call from Jon Stewart at Comedy Central" We used the fact we were obsessing over Ollie to not here they "Stewart" part and talking without giving him much time to interrupt they way we had been Oliver before he said enough that we couldn't stop the littles from not noticing. We did feel more us like after but we knew there was fuck all point trying to do much with our consciousness anyway except try and reduce the damage moment by moment and leave all the important decisions the parts of us that knew what the fuck was going on.

Their is a possible paternal issue with Pabs and Mr Oliver which with can only be a possible when you dont have the paper work and you and everyone else bullshits you about who you are and how your kids come about. He often said he is Pabs dad and used it when he came over with someone who wasnt who they said they were and demanded to know where Pablo was. Not that any of it wasn't serious enough. We had some of our own security back and we were trying not to vomit both in fear and relief knowing the landline would ring and it did and a voice asked for the guy to give his name and rank which he wasnt happy about. We were starting to remember who the fuck we were which triggered an expression we had been persuaded to  repeat versions of over and over whilst being made to feel better and better.

 "I'm sorry Sir but whatever rank in whatever American authority you have I have the authority to out rank it."

There was some handing around of the phone and talk about my name and stuff that pissed us off because we still couldnt hear it then they left without Pablo's location that I didnt know any way. We wept on the phone with the FBI guy for a while once they had left they scene. Talked about the state we were and how hard we were fighting and all the recent rapes. He cried to and reminded me utterly of why we talk to these people by calming us down and making us feel better without harmful bullshit. We both knew Pabs was probably going to end back in the flat because of the amount of horror and money that was being pumped into making it so.

The seeing Oliver in Pabs programming is hitting us pretty fucking hard at the moment though.

When things got that he was forced back to Fintry and we were both raped and abused in a bunch of ways he said to us he was glad Pablo was back with us and we remember how cold our body went. Frozen.






May 29, 2016

Sorry mum that's my boss I need to go speak to him.

Ah well. It's what I'm fighting isn't it? The system of slavery. The manipulation of attachment needs that enables it.

It's why we had a "not engaged party" we were not fucking engaged. Christ cant I go back think I'm in love/married to/waiting for my pimping brothers.. Maybe he's a pimping brother to! Can't wait to get there. Really. This is awful. It's all crap. Every relationship we thought we built out of that fucking compound. They are all programmed, groomed and handled. They never saw us. Every promise was the them repeating what pure evil wanted them to say. It's like we told Jacqui. When the sex is that orgasmic to a DIDer it's as likely to be caused be massive denial as by the opposite. Brain isn't gonna let you know what is really going on here. It's not an idiot.

Paying Dr O'Maly.

John Oliver. Your a cunt.

We are attempting to balance it with Tuscany before Palermo.

It came first actually. Raised us up high enough to survive "fuck he's not coming back, he was never here", the begging and the desperate attempt to explain how bad things are, how much Pablo needs a parent and how we cant survive the both of our lives being put to the side because people need to take orders from abusers to feel safe. We cant handle any of it thats how it works for them for so long because we end up all in for the denial and the abusers. Don't leave us to deal with all own our own. There are lots here that still completly believe in you and us but others dont see any sign of you being able to help us. Don't leave it a year. If we still haven't heard from you on on own birthday next year we wont be able to pretend any longer. We cant let it do any more damage.

A year ago.


Tuscany though. It is a place that exists. With people and wine and food in it. And we have been there.

And this isnt going to kill us.

We saw it all. Back in the fucking labs.

May 28, 2016

How my finger tips were burned.

They weren't blistered. Just a bit sore and hot over the rest of day and the next. A physical reminder to a mind that was being pushed to forget everything.

I think it was Jessie and not Noah we were talking to. We were pissed of with him but not enough to not talk to him. We knew there would be someone showing up that day pretending to be him and the impact of whatever the brobot would say and attempt to do to us would be a lot less if we didnt speak to him at all.

We felt it before we saw it. One of our ships in that had been in fascist hands for years. We half dropped, half chucked the phone to some well else. We built them to very sensitive to our commands and we were on top of it had the lid opening pretty quickly. We felt very ill at looking him in the cockpit of own of our babies. He struggled briefly, screamed "mum" then his neck was broken and we dropped him back in the cock pit, put in his limbs and told her to close.

We jumped back down. She needed a verbal command to revert to previous programming and go back to her true home. We left our hand and finger tips on to long intentionally as she shot off knowing the shinny metallic material against finger tip flesh would leave friction burns.

Blair Blair was not mine. He was Louise's I think one of the girls who they could get in states where they would agree and cooperate with them intentionally distressing the foetus and controlling the pregnancy. Who wouldn't put up a fight if they weren't happy with what they had and decided to abort and try again. They are scared of our DNA producing someone unpredictable, that was the exact opposite of what they wanted.

Someone who would cooperate with the extreme abuse of the baby at birth and onwards. They made sure we saw and knew about lots of what they were doing. The poor babies. We wept for him when we heard they had decided this one was going to be kept alive and trained for adulthood but never again. He was the pet of all the worst abusers at the BBC and British police and intelligence, from the RA networks, the American stuff, the Jersey cunts and wako African shit, all the worst abusers and porn and control techniques from across the world and we couldn't help him. He was on his own. Unsurvivable.. They discussed and convened lots on how to make him what they wanted and specifically what they wanted him to do and we knew they were being listened to because everyone is then discovered how revoltingly rotten the NSA is.

Some really believed they could convince us that we would agree to all that for cash, drugs, clothes, for sex and/or rape with and of celebrities and others.. They really invested in thinking is was possible that I could be become like Louise or Rebecca or Morag or any of them.. To see them chatting and laughing and making material or social demands as they shifted themselves and their heavily pregnant bodies into positions so baby torturers got better access. Knowing the years of fertility that were ahead of us all. It never left any of us. We couldn't let it. We know what kids that come from scenes like that are capable of.

Whoever we had chucked the camera to had let it run and positioned it so Jessie saw everything and was now being shown the surrounding carnage. He shadowed us for a while letting Jessie see what my life was and had been, what it turned us into and what we had to do just to stay alive. How it was endless slaughter not to get a better life for me and Pabs but just to have any life.

Getting us to name them was a thing. A long term thing. They were trying get us to want to save him, to kill ourself trying to save them all. There was only one name for that poor fucker we knew he would be trained to hate us and need to destroy us and everyone who cares about us. Or cares about anything.

 Blair Blair.







Grandad's Girl.

It's Hendrix. We keep Nelson as a middle name. I'm my grandad's.

Very few people are cut out and supported enough to survive the compounds. He's not that kind of fighter. It's been tough. Really tough. The way it was set up so that when we wanted to see and talk to him again we would find him with industry rapists or with other girls that were being trained to pretend they were me.

There was surgery. We were told in the Glen I think, on that patch of track that went behind Logiebank that where we know a few meetings happened. We were so fucking relieved we wept. Think we said that if he was just telling us to make us feel better we would totally forgive him because we needed to here that some much. The guy didnt like that and asked when he had every lied to him. He was certain.

We agreed and said we probably already knew. That they had probably done it in front of us. Probably so because of what happened to us whenever we wondered if they had. He knew us and spoke gently trying to see if we could say more because that kind of dissociation was very dangerous and he wanted to help us not because he needed to info. We said that when we felt strong we tried to think about and would remember an operation room in the compound and Dad on the table being asked questions so they can map shit out and cut or burn the right place. He's trying not to answer but they have other girls there to and they are helping the surgeon.

Afterwards one of the higher up men is asking us what we learned from it. We had no idea what he wanted us to say. All we could think about was how much the other girls had helped. How everything they had been doing and saying and pretending had been about helping them enslave my dad. All we could say was we would never, ever trust Louise again. Then maybe started listing the names of all the other girls involved who we knew we did not have worry about any of us hearing or identifying with or trusting at all ever again regardless of consciousness. He didnt like it and had us dragged off to be raped. All we could see and hear was the surgery.

We had felt wariness towards dad from grandad before that. They had him performing in too much porn. Not realising how much worse things always are to how they look.
"Dad they have you performing sexual acts over and over.. They are getting you to states where you dont need to be aware and in control of your body its become so automatic, its in the muscles and they don't need your brain. Like us with shooting and killing. They are going to increasingly drug you up when they already have you very sleep deprived, they will manipulate your dissociative parts and one day they are going take out the actress and put in me and you wont know the difference and they will have us in a state where we cant wake you up.

That is of course is exactly what happened.

It was after the surgery though. We are pretty sure atm.

Some of us felt so guilty. That maybe if we hadnt fought so hard against the incest they wanted from us we could of protected his brain more. Grandad didnt have to say anything. He just had to look at us and we knew that was crap.

All of us knew without any doubt when it happened.

Brains can rewire. Rape from a loved one cant be undone. We knew our relationship interims of him being my Daddy was dead. I think were about seven because I remember our eighth birthday party where he played for us and there is a strong sense that it was after. We would never be close again because they space I needed from him after would be be impossible to cross years later when I wanted to because we wouldn't know each other and there would be thousands of scumbags, zombies and bots that surround us both would never allow it and christ knows what his brain and body would of become during that time.

That is old world rules. We are still waiting for the new world ones to kick in properly. Christ there is nothing as scary as hope.

On that note. We love you John Oliver.

He's fine. Not any smaller. Spends all weekends glued to a flea ridden sofa... someone should do something about that..



May 27, 2016

You tore us apart with all things you wont know.

That nasty come down or recently traumatised messed up brain chemistry feelings wont shift. Trying not to think of Trevor Noah. And the phone call instructing us not to tell him who Pablo River Stuart was. When he asked on some video call via equipment that wasn't ours we felt the same as we did when the other prick told us what to do only stronger, how the hell were we talking to him if he didnt know who PRS is?

 We told him that, we were freaking and we saw him look of cam to someone for advice on what to say next we said "Cut" and shut it down. The device "vanished". We know the deal when our memories are chopped up and the blank patches are very blank - we are being kept unconscious lots, and the DID seriously worked along side the women pretending to be us. Very poorly.

Was the same when someone said our grandad was dead. Like we were immediately going to try and contact him to find out if it was true?? Still though it was years before that set of us could see him and know he definitely wasn't, a year ago.

Elaine is the door way of her disgusting living room holding cut up lemons and looking very pleased with herself. There's lots of laughter. Think it's me, Sash and one of my teenage daughters on the floor but getting incidents mixed up is really easy. We thought a lot about how much scarier all this would be if we didn't know where it all came from. If we hadnt been in caged in the same spaces where everything they were doing now had been done to them, hadnt known they had been doing these exact same things since they were kids just as instructed, if we hadnt overheard or been forced to assist in surgeries where they cooperated fully with the surgeons it would be a lot less survivable. Some of us thought that we wouldnt survive if we weren't being gang raped and tortured next to people we loved but never get to see. The rest of us knew thats how they keep hard core porn subjects alive.

The look on Jacqui's face when we told her we were giving info about the compounds and the programming to other victims to undermine the power of it all. Priceless.















Beyonce in Dundee..

starring in torture tapes with assorted victims filmed on location with Fintry's best loved sex offender Elaine Smith!!

Cant remember exactly what had been going on or how long it had been going on but we were really ill and in agony, couldn't think. As well as Pabs location they were trying to get info and control events on now, May 2016. From us. Back then. Sitting on the floor near the door to Pabs room though we were coming round enough to know where we were and to remember we were sitting where Francis's body was, with Beyonce standing where Ann, or was it Sam? was. That helped.

Once folk got us to a better place internally after that one of the first things was Pablo had to be out the country and stay out the country and it was probably going to be necessary a times to keep him moving and we must not under any circumstances be told where he is.

Can't remember how much Beyonce and company paid for a search and destroy operation on six year old Pablo River Stuart. Something stupid. Particularly as it failed.

"Yeah there's only one person on Earth that I know of that could help finding someone like that."
"Who?"
"His Ma.."

Back on the floor in the dark. We are using her name as much as and trying make out like we are stronger and more awake than we are so they pull her out of there.

"so basicly I get to parent Pablo or he gets to live" She agrees. "Well I wouldnt be a very good parent if I let you slaughter him would I" She didnt like. Think we started talking about the threats about the kid over here.
JZ opens the door to the closey and tells her its time to go. He's never far when's she's working and a whole crew. They dont do any sneaking around or any kind of work on their own. Never have.

Wonder how many times we watched. Usually from the floor, injured, tied, drugged, pregnant, whatever. Usually to the man when we were really little. Then JZ but others to of course. As they left they made more promises to have Pabs killed. We weren't on our own for long before people came to us and helped us feel less scared for Pabs.

So many fucking years of it.

"Why don't you just kill her?"
"No we can't"
"You said we could do whatever we wanted?!"
"Yeah but only if they let us."


I am the mountains, I am the sea.. you can't take that away from me.