may the ocean’s dogs devour them

 Page Seven

by: mishi   Posted on: 05-13-2008 @ 10:59 am



Tues 13 May 2008    Greenfield                                                                                                                                          Well, thanks again Gonen, for your email. If there are any new ones, I’ll get to them sometime.ones, I’ll get to Right now I’m having a moratorium on email, and paper mail, and the telephone. Couple of weeks ago I met a whole new batch of mental health workers, who turned out to be just as full of flim-flam as the first bunch. The new batch is still emailing me, I think, and I’m not interested in anymore bullshit.I have a very happy fantasy sometimes that all the neurotypical bullshit artists drop dead of some disease, all at once, and only we neurosmarties are left. And the animals, of course, who are neurosmarties as well.The dilemma, always: as primates, we need SOME kind of bonding with other humans (though small doses work best for me), but the other humans are so bloody insufferable, how can we possibly form any meaningful bonds with them? Do you know?
 Update 22 July 2009, Turners: The same, the same. I want their world less than ever. I long for the world I had, with a home, with the animals, and I would put my one new human friend in it. Nothing else interests me. I haunt the streets of Turners Falls, where we had our life together, nothing more than a ghost.


Lousy Mental Health Care


website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



 Page Six

by: mishi  Posted on: 05-07-2008 @ 02:07 pm



Wed 7 May 2008      Greenfield

Information about diagnosing Asperger’s in adults. I’d like to find some of that. Symptoms I’ve heard of: not smiling much, not liking to be touched, skin very sensitive to fabric, developing very passionate interests, relating much better to animals than people, being very fearful and anxious, having difficulty figuring out what’s in other people’s minds, prefering to live in one’s own world, whether that’s an actual physical place or a place inside your mind.

Anyway, where do people like that get a sense of belonging. I got mine mostly from animals.

Update 21 July 2009, Turners: Still the same. My own world was taken away, and I can hardly exist in this one. I have one human friend now, and she is willing to give time to me that other friends in the past have not. And it is a hard job, I’m sure, because I am little better than a ghost after having all the animals taken and being made homeless and then being told that people wanted to kill me. Despite medication, I dislike human beings more now than ever, and fear them more (except for the one friend), and don’t want to participate in their world at all.


                                                                       Some of those who, in what was my own life, loved me, and were loved in return.

 Asperger’s      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


On and On

Page Five

Tuesday 6 May 2008     Greenfield

It’s eight weeks today since the sheriff’s guy evicted us.

I’ve been ripped out of my own world and thrown into the human one in a bigger way than I can stand. I walk streets and hang here and hang there now that my life is gone, and people are crawling around me every minute like so many ants. They sit too close, walk too close, talk about nonsense. Once in a great while there’s an interesting conversation, and I eavesdrop, but mostly it’s boring, superficial, even irrational drivel.

I only fit in my own world, the one I made for myself with my animals, my books and music and art and radio shows and so on. The DMH allowed it all to be taken away, and dropped me into a world I can’t handle.

Do any of the rest of you Aspies have to do this? To create your own world in your own space and stay mostly clear of that other world around us?


(figurine available from


Update 2009:  And now it’s February 4th, and it’s 2009, and I’m in Northampton, and in 7 days I will be 11 months homeless. When I wrote this original entry I was already horrified that the Department of Mental Health had allowed my whole life to be taken from me and me to put out of a home in my fifties, and that in eight weeks they had done nothing to correct any of that. Eight weeks without my own life, without my own home, without the ones I love seemed like an eternity to me then, so how do you think it feels that it is now eleven months. But on top of all of this that is already destroying me by inches, I was told last July that — because of a mafia-connected tenant in the building where I last lived, and a dead mafia grandfather of my own — I am being tracked people who want to “kill” me (said Matthew) and am being protected by none other than federal goons (undercover) down from the branch office in Burlington, Vermont. Or so I’ve been told by good old Matthew Lacoy in Greenfield. As if the nightmare I was living because of the DMH wasn’t enough.

here to the Asperger’s page of my website.


(this post is part of the book Spite and Malice)


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Another blog copied, moved to WordPress

Page Four

Tuesday 23 February 2009      Greenfield

First it was the Sehnen blog, being copied from Soulcast and moved here because of Soulcast’s technical problems. Now it’s the Mishi blog from Wrongplanet being copied into WordPress because of the fact that I can link into Wrongplanet, but I can’t link out of it. The purpose of setting up the website ( was to link it and all of the blogs together, and it’s too hard to do with the obstacles that Soulcast and Wrongplanet are presenting. So, move it all to WordPress.

(this beautiful blank book is available from www., a company I used to buy from in my own life)




Page Three….      mishi  Posted on: 05-05-2008 @ 10:15 am


“nature has planted in our minds an insatiable longing to see the truth.” ~~~  ~~~  cicero

well, my mind has that longing in any case, but I don’t happen to see it in most of the minds I meet.

It keeps going…

mon 5 may 2008…    greenfield  thank you, Hodor, for your kind message. it’s only the second cyberspace message I’ve received.

I have never, ever lost the feeling that I am on the wrong planet, and I’m in my fifties. in fact, in the last ten years or so, that feeling has  become even stronger.The Department of Mental Health in greenfield, mass destroyed my life, my whole sense of identity and purpose, and sent my “mental health”, which they were supposed to help, presumably, into the worst condition it has ever been in.

they don’t believe that death from grief is possible, death from too much trauma. they only believe in death from pills and razor blades. they cannot think outside of the prosaic and ridiculous boxes taught to them in their psych courses.

I don’t understand the human code of communication and conduct, or I only understand it so far. animals I understand a great deal more. and they understand me. other humans seem to find me just as bizarre as I find them. I’m tired, depressed, sad, less interested in one breath in, one breath out than I’ve ever been in my life.
the ones I love, who loved me, are gone.


see the DMH page of my website outline

wed 21 jan 2009, northampton —- what I was hoping for back in may last year, in the early days of blogging, was that people, even just a few, would take an interest. an activist lawyer or journalist turning up would have been ideal, but barring that, even just a couple of regular people who read about the destruction of my life by a juggernaut of an agency and empathized with the situation, felt the same hurt and outrage, would have been a great comfort. especially here, on wrongplanet, where other people with asperger’s would read what had been done to me….. but now it’s ten months, ten days that I’m homeless. now I also know the things about my life that matthew lacoy told me abin july 2008: organized crime trouble and federal protection. and if you don’t believe that, then you are just as dumb as I was not so long ago about the ways in which innocent people can get snared in a mob-world hornet’s nest.

july 2009, turners falls: still trying to fight the delusional label. I suppose I’ll be trying to fight it to my last breath. I didn’t dream up or hallucinate or hear body-less voices to get the thoughts I got about being in protected by one set of thugs on the government payroll from another set of thugs who are not. these things were told to me by a flesh-and-blood human being who is still in greenfield, where he’s been for years. there are no delusions involved. what did happen is that the trauma that had already just happened in my life last year combined with this new information from this man to keep me in a constant state of anxiety and anger, and in this state I pulled many more people and events into my protection situation than probably belonged there.


read…    Spite and Malice…   The pygmies keep dancing

~~~~~  website outline  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2013 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.



asperger’s; first wrongplanet post

Page Two

   “beyond myself somewhere, I wait for my arrival.”  ~~~ octavio paz


friday 2 may 2008    greenfield                                                                    

when I copied today, I goofed up. I’m tired. put the second wrongplanet post as page one and now the first as page two. 

this is my first entry on this new blog on wrongplanet. I haven’t been diagnosed with Asperger’s, but I think the chances are good that I have it. I’ve just been drastically traumatized by the Massachusetts Department of Mental Health, the people who were supposed to help me. I’d like to see if anything similar has happened to any of you in the mental health care system, and to connect with people who might be more like me than anyone in my life has ever been. the name of this website (wrongplanet, the original site of this blog) has a lot of meaning for me, as I suppose it does to many of you. sometime in my teens I began feeling as though I’d been born on a different planet from everyone else and somehow got dumped here. I’d always felt that way, since early childhood, but I didn’t use the planet analogy until I was in my teens.

I realize this might sound very unlikely, all this garbage with the DMH,  but it’s all too grimly true: the DMH allowed my life to be destroyed. though I’ve been traumatized and depressed many times in my life, this is the worst ever.


the Asperger’s page of my website outline

read…    Neverending solitaire…    Mental hell

~~~~~~~~  website outline  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Share   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2013 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

suffocating. wrongplanet post #2

Page One


                   “time passes, never to be recalled.”  ~~~  virgil


                   this is my stolen, murdered dog, Mishi. at the time I’m adding this photo, I’m quite sure he’s dead. the original asperger’s blog on wrongplanet was named for him, as is this copy of that blog.                


sat 3 may 2008    greenfield

thanks to the incompetence, or cruelty, or stupidity, or all three, of the Department of Mental Health in greenfield MA, I, who lived my life with animals and with my various interests, have been left homeless, all my animals gone, thrust into a street life with humans crawling around me all the time like hordes of ants. because I’m misanthropic and rather reclusive, and because I have asperger’s, I’m extremely stressed by having more than a very few people around me for more than a couple of hours. now as a homeless bum hanging in cafes and libraries and whatever else, walking streets all day, every day, with what feels like legions of pests around me all the time, I’m suffocating in the ants. suffocating in their phoniness, their mood swings, their untruthfulness, and their secret code of shmoozing that I mostly don’t understand.

I don’t even know if Mishi is dead or alive….. this blog is truly going to focus on Asperger’s, real soon. but that’s not to say that the other pressing issues — the actions of some very twisted people — won’t also show up here.

update tues 20 jan 2009, northampton — tears, tears, public tears. and they are only a part of the sorrow-flood that’s in me. more than once my so-called protectors seem to have tried to take me to a home (these people are a whole other gaggle of miscreants from the ones who created my homelessness and the larceny of my animals). every time it doesn’t happen, this being located,  I remain whatever it is I am to them: bait? something else? I hadn’t yet been told about these people, these protectors, on the day I first wrote this post eight months ago. someone who calls himself matthew lacoy is the one who told me, in early july of 2008. his name will no doubt come up many times in this blog. in all of my blogs. and in a couple of the books.

update 2 july 2009. greenfield:  I have indeed over the last 11 months seen many dramas acted out around me that looked like attempts to locate me, one of them made by matthew himself. why doesn’t it happen? why are there only failed attempts?


~~~~~~  website  outline  ~~~~~~~~~~

read…       Stolen Stars…     Spite and malice

~~~~~~~~~   Share   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2013 by anne nakisunless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.