No One’s Responsible

by: mishiPosted on: 10-24-2008 @ 10:34 am

                                                                  

 

fri 24 oct 2009 Peskeomskut Park, Turners FallsStill sleeping outside.  No followers of Jesus in this burg take me in (what would Jesus do?) My so-called protectors do not locate me anywhere. I withdrew from the DMH in June because they were doing nothing. So here I sit. Believing that I can’t find my own place because I have been told I’m a “protected” person, and protected people must be located by the protectors.

Update 28 August 2009:  Life in the park was degrading, humiliating, but in another way beautiful. I was enraged and hurt that my protectors, especially Matthew, were leaving me this way. I was humiliated to be living in a park when for 55 years I’d had homes. I was a ball of fury and worry: when are they going to tell me where they want me? It’s been months since Matthew tried and it fell through. When are they going to get this done? But the beauty of the park was watching the sky, feeding the squirrels and birds. I had animals to take care of again. They weren’t my own, and I thought of my own stolen animals every single day, but they were there and they became my friends (the only ones I had). We loved each other for the time I was there. And again, none of the “christian” citizens of Turners Falls, around whom I’d lived for so long, offered me a couch or a room. If they thought I was delusional (I wasn’t), they at least knew that I was a non-drinking, non-drugging “delusional” who was harmless. They just couldn’t be bothered to help.

 See the Shelter Life page of my website.

Living Outside Now

mishiPosted on: 09-30-2008 @ 11:56 am

 

 

tues 30 sept 2008                     Day 1 of living outside in Turners Falls

monkfish and demongirl: I’ve just read your comments on the previous post. thanks.

I’d be interested in hearing aspie observations about neurotypical love, the way they love, the state that they call love, and whether or not you find such love valuable to you, whether it agrees with your own definitions of love.

for instance, would you agree with the statement: you suffer when someone you love suffers? and if you would agree, do you see neurotypicals who say they love you suffering when you do?

Update 11 Sept 2009: Not a lot to add here. I believed the things Matthew had told me (as I’ve said and will keep saying), and I believed that the protection situation made it impossible for me to choose my own home. And so I waited for another time to come like the one that had come in the middle of August last year, when it seemed for all the world like Matthew was going to take me somehwere. The details of that weekend will eventually be copied from the old Sehnen blog to this new one.

Last updated on 09-11-2009 @ 11:10 am

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Comment By: Sir_Beefy(Posted on 09-30-2008 @ 10:25 pm)
Comment: you can’t fight the FBI these days thanks to the Patriot Act. They are the actual terrrorists nowadays. All they have to do is plant evidence and you can’t do anything about it if you have no lawyer. If you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you, but then again, if you aren’t in a courtroom, I guess this doesn’t apply. FBI:Fucking Bastard Institution

 

They so want me to be delusional

Page Eighteen

mishi…   Posted on: 09-16-2008 @ 01:28 pm

 

 

tues 16 sept 2008,  the shelter in Turners Falls… 

 I remember that some months ago I read that 90% of Asperger’s children are subject to bullying at school, and I figure that we can extrapolate from that statistic the fact that all Aspies are much more subject to all kinds of bullying in their lives than NT’s are. And I have indeed experienced a great deal of psychological bullying in my life, but none greater than what the mafia-chick, the psycho landlady, and the federal types have done (or seem by inference to be doing, based on the little information I got from Matthew). They have bullied me in that way, and through my physical illnesses. As if I were the criminal. No, it was the landlady and the other tenant and their pals who were, and are, the criminals, and yet I had everything taken away from me and was hung on a hook to dangle for organized crime (it seems), more than six months ago. What I thought was being done by the DMH alone was, I now know (based, as always, on Matthew’s words), was possibly also being done at the behest of others. I had accidentally, unwittingly stirred up a real, bona fide mob, and though I’ve led a crime-free life, I’ve been the one punished. punished incessantly for 6 months. I seriously doubt they would have hung a woman on a hook who was not poor, or who had a husband or family of humans to stick up for her. Even after they found out in early July that I am autistic, they still didn’t take me off the hook. They haven’t taken me off yet (and Matthew has never yet disputed my belief that I’m somehow bait). I’m sure they wouldn’t have done this behind-the-back, bait-hook “protection” if I weren’t single, or poor, or weird.

Update 14 Sept 2009: I still feel the same way, a year later. If in fact I had this protection done in this underhanded way, then I still believe it was because I was to be used as bait. And I still believe this wouldn’t have been done to me if I’d been of a different social class, and married, and neurotypical. 

And why do certain people so want me to be delusional? Why is it so important to them that this be written down on papers and passed around verbally? I think partly it’s because delusional is a diagnosis certain psychobabbles enjoy making: just as a murder is a more exciting case for a cop than a break-in is, delusional is a more exciting diagnosis for a bonehead to make than, say, clinically depressed. It makes them feel they’re earning their pay. And also people simply don’t want to believe that in this small community the ugly thing that seems to have happened to me vis a vis criminal types and federal types could happen to anyone. Not in this “nice” little community.

~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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

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Comment By: Monkfish(Posted on 09-19-2008 @ 10:20 am)
Comment: what a bunch of cunts!

 

 

Comment By: Demongirl(Posted on 09-28-2008 @ 11:46 pm)
Comment: I hated elementry and middle school becaused I was bullyed so bad I am totally afriad of any kind of human contact what so ever! So I don’t have any friends, just so I feel safe! I don’t even liked to be touched by a person! EVER! Which is why I’m designing posters for my thesis that promote better treatment of autistic children in school so they will have better lives. It seems like we get the worst end of the stick just because we have some diffilculties. SO NOT FAIR!

 

 

Comment By: Dyfi(Posted on 10-01-2008 @ 05:43 am)
Comment: I have Aspergers and I am bullied soooo much. You think thats bad, the teachers fuckin blame it on me. I get hurt, I assaulted someone.

 

 

Wrongly and Cruelly Done

Page Thirteen

by: mishi

Posted on: 06-25-2008 @ 09:53 am

 

 

wed 25 june 2008 Greenfield                                                                      So… I’m going to continue writing about the unauthorized Asperger’s testing that someone or other put me through last week, in public places, on sehnen.wordpress.com, if you want to see what certain buffoons do to earn their money. Matthew has told me these are tests, so I’m not imagining it, and please no one insinuate that I am. If he’s lying, or you come up with that as an excuse for not believing me, so be it. But it’s out of his mouth that these are tests. Here’s the other “Asperger’s” poem I forgot the other day. Written long before I ever heard the word, and yet to me it is all about having asperger’s.

From You to Me                       

                 Sparks from your eyes fly
                 at my insolence.
                 You fancy I don’t see them.
                 I am insolent,
                 believing my beliefs with easy ardor,
                 fomenting things in a virile voice.
                 I am arrogant,
l                living in this tepid time,
                 on fire.
                 And so you send your sparks.
                 Watching them fly, red-hot,
                 to my face,
                 I comprehend I can’t be loved,
                 but never understand.

here to the Asperger’s page, or here to Poetry.

Update 23 Sept 2009: I still don’t know who ordered those tests that were done on me in public places without my consent. I only know that when they were over, Matthew told me I had Aspergers. That’s all I know.

 

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 www.gaelsong.com)

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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.

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

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suffocating. wrongplanet post #2

Page One

 

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

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                   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?

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~~~~~~  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.