Where should I start?

 

At the end. I have been up and down the west coast, back and forth across the united states.

And here I sit, after complaining of upper respitory infection virus, no emergency room would declare contagious nor too dangerous to travel, having survived being tested positive.

This was after I it was inconclusive and after a dozen attempts to nail me for the dreaded disease. I did everything I could, while traveling I used my own cups and water bottles. I used hand sanitizers, insisted on being in the down stairs handicap section where I was less likely to come into contact with children.

I was even reported by a man for wearing a head scarves. He went to the bathroom on the lower deck and I was still dressed for the outdoors, with the large scarf wrapped around my head and shoulders. I often wore a scarf in those years, around my neck in layers to keep my lower face from being exposed. 

I actually had to remove my face covering because a  man using the facilities had spied it inside the enclosed handicap section. I was disturbed by this incident and brought the paper work on my medical condition but reported I was allowed to travel which satisfied the conductor who had returned. 

One can be removed from a train without a return ticket and dumped in a foreign location or domestic city with no place to sleep nor a way of continuing without permission from the conductor.

Now I had to go into a isolation unit which was a single hotel room with a bathroom and no window to open. I had to keep the door closed and not have a television with a signal on anything except sports. My food was not delivered properly and I began to run a temperature after I was provided a place.

Unlike Malia's family who could not afford a hotel, the poor are provided places when they qualify. The treatment is bare minimal and the second test they said was positive. I never have received a actual paper report on any of the tests I have taken.

I thought I was going to die for a few days in the middle of my ten day ordeal. 101 temp and lack of oxygen. I told the nurses on the phone but unless one is dead they don't come to your room. Just stay inside until your time is done and don't die. 

I did not die, I came out on my ten days still coughing and light headed. I wish Mr. Emmanuel gets better treatment in France than I got. I hear Mr. Boris got a hospital room, which is now in short supply.

I also had to go back to a cot for a few days even though I was promised a new lodging. It took a few phone calls and a lot quiet wailing in the back corner, but the right person ordered a reprieve.

Those of us who had missed our bus the week earlier where provided a second chance. We were given less than 24 hours to pack and be ready at 7 am with our luggage. At 9 am we were escorted onto a bus, one at a time. 

I wont go into detail but we did get to our destination where we had to sign leases agreeing to everything under the sun. I am now checked into a hotel for homeless people. Instead of a homeless shelter which promised housing.

The cost of a two room hotel unit with a door separating the kitchenette, a microwave and hot plate and the bathroom with a bed is 1600 dollars a month. 

This after spending two years due to having no work history and no bank accounts and a bunch of children riding on my identity who clearly are not my children. I hear even Malia is listed as one of my unknown children.

It is not amnesia I have but the suspicion that there are criminals using the system for their own children to keep track of upper class persons. My mother always claimed to have gone to Vassuer and I thought I had got into a few Ivy league schools myself.

Well, who ever is using my identification on multiple levels need to know who many dozen children there are listed and that none of them are going to make a better deal than Meagan who ruined my life in DC where there is no longer a house to return. 

But I have a place to stay and perhaps with an emotional support certificate I can get one of my cats out of the pawn shop. 

Not out of the woods yet

 Damn, there goes another man down on the ground, accused shoplifter. And another dead body removed from the premises next door to my very not so nice 500 dollar a night room. The count keeps going up but there is no way of knowing of when it is going to stop.

Those who dont deserve any mercy are the ones robbing hope from others and the ones who could at least be offered a chance are whisked away out of sight.

I had ten days in isolation in a room without any way of opening the sliding door even though the one opened quite freely and frequently. All night long and this alternated with the hand washing, on and off goes the sink, what do you have a meth lab  up there? And then there was the little knocks, can I come in and keep you company? We are in isolation units, one each no sharing no intimacies!

Well, my room, had sharing, the spiders hanging down from the corners were wondering where I came from. I was wondering where the ants had come from and who they were planning to visit. Housekeeping! There is no housekeeping in these units. Just a box, with a door, a bed, a bathroom and a television, which did not get signal for anything but sports sports and sports. Felt like a prison cell, maybe?

And the food delivery, three times a day, the rap on the door and leave a bag of food with water bottles. I am on a glutton free diet, something if  I fail to mention leaves me with nothing but pasta and then there is nothing to eat. I had nothing to eat, they decided I did not need to eat if I could not eat their food.

I get diarrhea from the bread, pasta, pastries and other items which include wheat. This includes soy sauce and barbeque sauce and some dressings as well as pressed meat such as lunch sandwiches. I got instant oatmeal, which clearly had gluten and yes tummy troubles. I complained for three days and they switched me back to the cold scrambled eggs. 

They gave me a tiny ice berg lettuce salad which i could not chew because of my abscessed tooth. I ate the bag of potato chips for the salt content and the vegetable content. Until the last day when they withheld those as well. I went without breakfast half of the days and they would not replace it no  matter how many calls one made to the management team. 

As for the nurses a little starving is good for you, not when that is already you diet and the medicine eats \up your stomach. My last night they kept knocking on the door. I got pasta which I just tossed back out, I got a greek meat thing, and then a vegetarian meat thing. I am not sure of either of the last two were glutton free, as mixed meat are not glutton free such as the vegetarian burger. 

The next day I got no supper at all, this after I had to call for my morning coffee and had actually gotten it in the morning. Just deliver coffee to those on a list, no i have to call, hiss I want coffee and yes cream, not the tiny square but got used to black and it was watered down depending on the type of tantrum the staff was having over my argument of glutton free not being anything with bread of pasta. 

Just give me scrambled eggs for good sakes. I was told to exist on day 10 and at 9 am, I was packed and waiting to go, but got no phone call until 6 pm that my ride was waiting. I got other phone calls but I was not budging until I knew I had wheels under my feet since they had brought all of my luggage to me, or at least most of it. No meals were delivered at the usual hour even though there seemed to be only a few of us leaving.

When I arrived back where I started, they were taking away the meal wagon. I had to ask several times before they handed me a hotdog, which i regretted asking for, at least I had a bag of potato chips before I put myself to bed at 8 pm. 

I had to wait outside for the staff to come collect me, then I had to be inspected by the guards while the staff disappeared, then I had to call a new staff to be allowed in the medical unit, so I could so them my pretty letter which they rejected and they made a few phone calls. I have no clear symptoms except my asthmatic cough and I am not running a fever so they let it go. 

Then the night staff looked confuse when I walked into their hall but just told me to go to my bed. Which there was none. It was gone. I had to ask for them to find me a new cot to sleep on. My back still hurts from that bed. People with bad backs dont do well with just any mattress and that overused thing was not up to my spine. It will be while before it is adjusted. I dont want to hear about Jacuzzis either.

The quarantine is necessary for those who are seriously ill and those who have no place to go. My mother always put me in quarantine and threw parties for everyone else to enjoy my misery. The women really was mentally ill over every little detail  of her childhood. It is too bad her brain cancer could not have been treated, I have heard others say it should have been taken care of with a bullet.

I am still not considered out of the woods and now have to wait for the promised housing. I made it too my locker to keep it from being taken over by someone else. I had to endure the psych questions about my stability instead of the cooks staffs about their desire not to feed a sick individual. I did have a temperature of 101 but with my inflamed mouth and being kept outside in the cold it is hard to say if I really had the dreadful disease and passed through a bad week of chills and sweets or if I simply responded not to well to being locked up. 

Time will tell, but I did survive and have my letter to prove I went through my quarantine. My dream is to give jim one shot of the antivirus but keep him from ever getting the second one, he likes to sweat things out. It is the only retribution for taking my houses from me and keeping me busy with his children or girlfriends to allow him the pleasure of thinking he will be protected but that second shot never reaching him.

My Last will and testament

 December 5 2020 exactly fifteen years after my mother passed away from brain cancer, I was told I had tested positive to coronavirus. All this time I have complained and yet no one has given me results worth mentioning. 

On her anniversary I was whisked away as a criminal to an isolation unit where I am not allowed to stick my nose out the door until my 10 days are over. The man next door has already been removed without comment from staff. 

My mother left no will even though promising things to come to me for putting up with her behavioral. Instead, everyone else has run around claiming their own rights even though they are not related to her and I am done with the African children demanding I am their mother. 

I am Native American and French and Russian!

My last will and testament as I am of sound mind and soul.

I know I have a been tested positive to a deadly virus but show no signs of weakening and they are talking of vaccines after a full year from the inception of the  mutation. I am still wandering about the dormancy stage and how long this virus may have been around but not deadly.

I now I have had no children from my vagina despite the claims of amnesia by some and my doctor have confirmed this just recently. Therefore, I disinherit all of the two hundred so called children laying claim to me as mother, most of whom are in the social service filing fraudulent claims. 

I have no daughters at all, except the one who now refuses to speak to me, my cousins who was left behind by accident and then her mother died. Many have tried to pretend to be her, but only she runs away from me and makes no claim towards me so I would only like her children to be given a chance by her real family since I was never good enough for her but I personally have nothing left to provide as everything has been stolen.

I once was known as a bigamist, but my one husband left a decade ago for espana with a Jehovah Witness and has not even provided his retirement social security for me to use in my neglect. I can no longer find the marriage license, just a piece of paper I never did use as he preferred other types of women, such as motorcycle chicks and rock star singers.

He owes me property but is also a caretaker against Jim who still claims to be my spouse. Jim is not allowed to use my last name but continues to do so despite court orders. Now that his real father Captain Kangaroo, Robert James Keshan  has died, I have no one to confirm but he is not going to continue getting away with putting his Mexican in laws in place on property which was French before they killed Maximillian.

As for my personal belongings to go to no one at all, not  even a charity. I would prefer they be held in trust by a family friend where the greedy ones will stop pursuing me while alive for even a small item as a doll collected in my travels. I was collecting mementos of my families quest to recapture the promise of the life on the West coast but so many are good at getting locals to look the other way when an argument occurs that my entire family lost their property and personal belongings to the same set of criminals.

The trust family friend will not be the same set of criminals such as Candace Galiotto or her niece Janet or nephew Justin. Or any of the Pittzembargers, Battmartlers, Johnston's, Jaillets  and so forth of the group who claim to be this religion but who refuse to acknowledge the actual convictions on their heads. AS for Betty Adelman, well, even the Kremlin is interested in how she continues to function as a pretend KGB agent.

My personal intelligent property is also not up so grabs. This includes my work history as well as my current ancestry project. These should be held by the one chosen but not named in a law suit. Such as Rachelle Anne Dixon who is Ludmillas Putinas baby girl with Jim when they were married all those years ago. The midget is out of control in her desire to introduce herself to people. I know she has already been kicked out of Buckingham Palace and the Whitehouse and don't believe anyone else is interested in her thieving children. 

The Jehovah Witnesses group lied to my family about being a pure religion respecting god and authority. Instead they let an old man who sacrificed his life at their head quarters die in a nursing home with no one to care for his needs, while his family home where he was born was turned into a camp grounds just because the group wanted a playgrounds. This is why even though some of the family are shocked, none of them have been able to prevent the atrocities' done because there is no recourse to a group with no law accept themselves.

Therefore, I leave nothing to anyone except the knowledge to trust no one at all. Not even your wife, now that we are in a Pandemic. Your trusted toys will be thrown in the trash or given to your enemies children to play with or worse their dogs to chew on. And if there was anything of value someone such Alona will come along and rob your own grandmother during her funeral, just so she can wear a Russian fur hat and say she is a Romanov.

I leave to my dead twin sister the resurrection when she can get even with everyone by rising from the dead and looking just like me run around reclaiming everything she remembers. To my long lost siblings who were threatened  with loosing their manhood if they stayed in the house, I leave the idea of capturing Jim and removing his limp pride since he knows not where to plant it but instead uses it to continue to steal from them and myself. 

If I had had a child by another means, he would have been cared for through surrogacy since I am unable to produce children of my own and would know how to go about attaining the rights to his rightful inheritance once Jim is stripped of the idea of using my last name. 

As, for that first flame, he seems to have evaporated into thin air in this time or certainly Jim would not be not be nodding his head in my direction as a convicted stalker and harasser giving people the impression he is not the one with mental illness. 

To, Jim I leave his Arizona execution where he tripped over the cord on the way to the chair. That they replug it in, with him in the chair and pull the switch successfully this time, ending a lifetime of misery for my family. 

Has it been that long already?

 Time goes by fast when wants it too or way too slowly when one is not ready for the prospects in front of one. This last month has seemed an eternity, hasn't it?

It has been just thirty days since the elections and yet we seem to have gone around the moon and back with the results and the court refusals and the public rebuttals. 

One wonders if you can remember what you were doing just last month? I was walking to get my monthly bus pass and cursing myself afterwards when I saw the free ride sign on the buses due to it being voting day. I've had two important doctors visits since then, with a few follow-ups and still waiting for the right answers. I have an absessed tooth due to lack of real dentistry, the little fiends called hygienists want their money before one can see the dentist where the insurance kicks in to pay for the specialist. 

Well, that and my EEG which came back without the stroke signs and the well known aneurism I have grown up with, what a waste of my time, sitting on bus stop benches and walking past demonstrators. 

I do know it has been fifteen years since my lay dying in a hospital in San Diego and no one came to visit her at all. Not even the hated Jim, nor his family. He always made himself known to everyone and everyone asked for my mother to visit them. 

But on the day she was dying of brain cancer and complications of a broken heart, not even Jim nor any of his family came. I was left to walk done the street from the bus stop to the cheap hotel someone had rented from the Hospice, after  my father was elected a mayor of south county and I had made it through the system in the city council as well to support our local city which had our family name still listed on one of the old townships, Winthers.

Jim is not a Wheat nor a Winters nor is he even a Windsor as he often decorates his ego with other peoples names. He is just a Keshan, the son of a celebrity or at least he is supposed to be the same boy that was born to the man and his first wife before he became famous. 

Often, I have thought he was exchanged at birth or later on with someone elses bastard. Really, though on the Christmas special in 1959, he was a toddler being allowed to have all of the Christmas presents meant for my mother who showed up married and with child. 

Except her child was not born yet and it was already known to be dead. It would be delivered in May to a woman distraught and uncapable of knowing the correct way of dealing with herself, her husband or this little weasel. She would also go through the process of being convicted of the crime of an abortion as it was called when the fetus came out not alive. 

Her life was shaped by this Christmas and we never had a nice one, especially after my twin sister born two years after me died. It was December and as I said I was forced to walk in the dark with the last bus as the hospital refused to let me stay in her room at night after my hotel room had closed for renovations and the Jims family had decided we could not stay for  the holidays with him. 

We had not come for the holidays but for the medical treatment she had been promised and the old friends who were supposed to be in town. Everyone seems to have moved out and who is to blame with all the building going downtown. 

I was awoken at two in the morning with a phone call asking for resuscitation, which I said yes to and then teh phone went dead. The phone in the room was not working nor the phone booth outside and the night bell did not seem to work either. Talk about a black out of technology. I had to wait for the light of day and walk a mile to a different bus stop to go up the hill on a Sunday to the hospital to be shown my mother in the morgue as they had not resuscitated her when I had asked in advance since I was not allowed to stay with her due to their increased holiday traffic. 

The one family I did see during this time was the family from India who used to run a hotel next to the older property near the homestead which also had a town named Winters. They claimed the property and our house and now they are living down here and are also running several hotels. They are no relation to Kamala Harris of India although. 

For fifteen years I have wandered back and forth among the properties I spent my first fifteen years knowing my family had ownership. I know my family had difficulty but they never lost their properties but were swindled a number of times and  never got the court orders executed. The place in Ensenada is a French land grant from Napoleon days and the crazy woman thinks she is native American instead of Jewish as her family claimed when they immigrated from Egypt. 

I came close a number of times in getting my way, but got removed repeatedly, sometimes by force. Actually carried out by varies members of the Christian congregation who have arrest warrants but no scruples who still cause trouble because they dont know any better. They have also enlisted over two dozen children to cause trouble for my father and my self insisting on being the real relative.

Many of these are surprising now celebrities such as alica Vikander or felicity jones, in fact almost every new major movie star has come from jims penis which has no sperm and used to have no balls, hence the suggestion he was replaced by aliens, and they have this witch thing going where they get to do what they want no matter how awful it is to someone else. 

Hence, a number of house have been torn down or dont exist anymore, a number of mexican men have sat in front of me and acted as if they are lords, when in fact they are just bastards. A number of deaths have occurred at everyone of these houses where the Mexicans have no idea they are probably Muslim after thoughts of the build up towards 9/11. 

Anyways, I had to give up my cats Hansel and Gretel and live in a shelter to get medical treatment due to the unfairness of some unjust social workers, judges, and others in the services such as bank tellers who simply lie about things just to stay off the streets. I crossed paths with the one girl I tried to adopt but she wont talk to me as jim abducted her and a number of other children. 

Meanwhile, i am being stalked and harressed by a number of Barack wanna a bes, all Africans with no sense and no resemblance except the skin tone. Poor man, I am not going to say he drugged me and forced me to have sex, no matter what the little vixens claim.

I was a good girl who got married at 15 to a respectable man from the other side in Europe who was then told I was not 17, my paper work was wrong, I was deported and tried again a few years later with another friend of the family only to loose all hope of ever getting away from jim's fury nor my mothers mental inabilities.

Well, it has been a long month, and Mr. Wilson walked right back to his spot near Horton Plaza and is standing frozen in time after disappearing for the voting. He was the other Mayor, my father and him were joint mayors when they decided to incorporate the entire city. Unfortunately, as in politics one man had to go down and they chose my father due to Jim primarily being a pain in everyone's face. 

Fifteen year olds feel things very deeply and dont like being forced out nor refused when the obstacle is finally removed nor does an absence of fifteen years in a person life mean much when that person was a force to be reckoned with. One wonders what happened to everyone else during the last decade and a half?