by: mishiPosted on: 07-02-2009 @ 11:21 am



Thurs  2 July 09   Turners FallsI’ve used this title in other blogs, since way back in the beginning, when the animals were first taken. The blackworld without them, without the way of life I knew for 55 years.

A year ago today, Matthew told me people wanted to kill me. You can believe he’s a liar, you can believe he’s an agent, whatever. But I believed him when he told me this, and I believed he was a detective or agent of some kind. He went on to tell me later in July that I was being protected by the FBI. And thus began the last year of high anxiety, tension, unanswered questions, delayed grief, waiting for the protectors to locate me somewhere (that’s all I ever knew about federal protection: you couldn’t choose your own place to live).

And Matthew, whoever or whatever you believe he is, left me month after month after month in this homelessness, knowing perfectly well that I was waiting for his people to show me where they wanted me. He’s still here, hasn’t gone back to his own town and his real home, and I don’t know what that means. And I haven’t had an apartment for almost 16 months. What all this does to my Asperger’s symptoms, to my PTSD and depression and anxiety, I’ll leave for you to try to imagine, to try to empathize with. If you have that capacity.








Comment By: notez(Posted on 07-02-2009 @ 05:38 pm)
Comment: the streets are not therapy if you do have PTSD, Dpression, Anxietyand depression along with aspberger I would reccomend one therapist not several who is fully aware of your situation . seeing several therapists may bring several different diagnosses . It could very well be that you only suffer from one of the afore mentioned .



For Those Who Betray…

… dante’s ninth circle

by: mishi

Posted on: 01-29-2009 @ 01:26 pm



thurs 29 jan 2009          Northampton

HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE    ~~   (j.p.sartre)

and I could add: especially an egomaniac named matthew.

Update 19 August 2009:  Not much to add here. I was angry, and I think rightly so. I was back in Northampton from 8 Jan to 9 Feb this year, staying at a shelter. But there now comes a long gap in time before I wrote again. From 9 Feb this year to 23 April, I didn’t have access to a computer. And how that all came about was as bizarre and suspicious and immoral and, as far as I know illegal, as many other things that have happened over the last 17 months.


unending unanswered questions

 by: mishiPosted on: 01-13-2009 @ 04:06 pm



Tuesday 13 Jan 2009….        Northampton

 It all goes on, into a new year. The “protection.” The baithood? Matthew certainly never denied this baithood. The homelessness. The waiting, the things Matthew wouldn’t tell me, and the things he did. The location somewhere, as a “protected” person, that never comes.

Tell me, any readers there might be, a little about love.

Update 26 Aug 2009:   Love. Yes, the man who told me these shocking things about my life supposedly loved me, at least last year. When I wrote this post, I had been going from place to place since the 20th of Aug 08. What kind of protection was that? Why didn’t I get protected in a home, as other people do? Was Matthew lying? I found very believable the things he told me, because very strange, out-of-place things had been going on in my life for a good while before he told me these things. But where was Matthew’s love? I wonder if he ever in all my wandering months tried to prevail upon his superiors to locate me somewhere and show me some IDs.

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Still Homeless

by: mishi

Posted on: 11-04-2008 @ 10:33 am  ~~  website



tuesday 4 nov 2008          Peskeomskut Park, Turners Falls

In 7 days it will be eight months of homelessness (courtesy of the DMH), and of all the cloak-and-dagger stuff that Matthew says has gone along with the homelessness. I haven’t been a human being to anyone for quite a long time now.Update 27 August 2009:  Matthew was the one who first told me about the protection, the federal dimension, and people wanting to kill me. I didn’t myself think the FBI would be involved unless we were dealing with organized crime. Certainly cars came to visit the lunatic criminal who lived in my building that I described as “mafia cars” before I was even evicted or ever knew Matthew. But the number of protectors I had and how it worked and when it would be over were details Matthew never gave me. I was living in a park right in the center of Turners Falls. What kind of protection is that? I was still waiting for these protectors to choose me an address, because that was all I ever knew about federal protection: you couldn’t choose your own place to live. I keep repeating this everywhere, because I keep getting asked the moronic question: why weren’t you looking for your own place. I’ve already given my answer to these fools repeatedly.



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


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