I as the victim of a family of victims must now take courage and make things easy for the world. The jokes and pleasures we justly deserve.
So now I am projecting a happier picture so we can see how happiness is formed. It is all about balls and that makes us feel like jerks. We are as if being chased round and round. The whole thing is we are the eth
There is not the right image for the right type of people. We must shower the world with the blames and the trials because they are blameless. They did nothing wrong. We have all become the spitting image of us all? As our great leaders show us up.
We as the most selfish society in the whole history of mankind. Steady on it is not true we did not know.
I told the good steady psychologists. She was looking at your tits.
Dishonesty is the right manner of speaking. I am a truthful person and they say truth is better for indigestion. Should be swallowed whole.
"You are giving me nightmares."
"Indeed it cares we have to know the victim."
"Is there just one?"
"I am afraid there is more than one."
This is sad?
"No, it is life."
Victims take revenge by writing and writing what nags them is they write better than they do.
Robbery intent on murder is no laughing matter. You might ask when is the killing spree going to happen? I do not know that is what is killing me.
The disappointments I feel the lying cheat.
When the poison is pinpointed then it can be erased and the person healthy. But the poison can be many.
I am an indecent woman who has crawled from the gutter to make a point about a point. I am a beast.
Someone is trying to rob me and kill me.
I am in a room inside a house which is half papered and done to my own tastes the satisfaction. Sat there in some dozy foolish thing. A nightmare going inside my head.
Is the nightmare real?
I have been attacked true.
Is there somehow no other room in here that says that the house is okay. Impressions of stuff. A nonsensical fool. I sat there waiting and waiting. Wasted and done for.
I fall now and then when there is no need to fall. But was not sure-footed when they did attack. So fell. My fault.
My face has swelled he is not the one who has done that. I cried myself fully.
My body grew old and odd and misshapen because I had to decorate it. Money is so tight it is rigid.
The workmen were mean and did not want to do so because I have exacting tastes. I want value for money and they glare as they go. You have no money.
The greatest sin of all is not having money.
Not now the poison can wait. No, it is there the poison. Asbestos in the loft left too long and the walls are now etching the stuff. Mother speaks and says do nothing the asbestos will go away.
Mum, it is in my part of the house. Soon it will crawl towards your part. She looked flabbergasted then went into action.
Check the book out. In a jiffy, he has to do the job first. The house is it the house which is poisoning you? No, I am speaking about my mother.
Today is mother's death day and the darling passed away when the man who was there in her life did not want her to get into his car.
Did I go? Asking for help?
He did not ask me in.
He disliked me.
A woman who did not do things properly.
Well, then she refused her medicine because the man in the car upset her. I became a recluse. Well, it is not a good start I start very much in the middle and there is not much left to speak about.
He did not get out of his car to find out what had happened.
You do not know what you did to me to us all.
Left us in the lurch with nothing but our bare hands to dig us out.
There was no space for mother she did not exist.
The specter at the table made us all feel guilty because we owned her former home.
The man fled it was too complicated.
He was a jerk. Indeed he worked so hard he needed to sleep. Mafia is some people who know where to hurt.
He made a lot of people happy. He did not make me happy? He made her happy. Julia and her and her. Art and literature and stuffy nonsense called snobbery. Class distinction. Education.
Dad was absolutely in crook heaven.
Honest crooks believe themselves they are worthy crooks and they will not be caught. But that is nothing to what they go through when they are caught out.
That is when she was sent packing to this house where she is still lingering in memories.
The mother's mother lived in the house called next door.
Drowning. I am the image of her because she had a resemblance to the neighbor next door. The other Zeks did not. I was not stupid it was because they were so daring.
The double the person that never was.
Mish mashed into something called a mother when she had no motherly feelings.
Crooks are more daring than they were previously they evolved.
They live with you until they take off and rob and then kill. I am certainly not that. No way. I am an honest woman dealing with chronic thoughts.
She made everyone comfortable. We as the children of the most notorious crooks have the rage that keeps us going.
B is fit and active and has kept the rage of childhood when she said she would control the rest of us. Abuse has led her into a life of crime.
We all deal with abuse in different ways.
I did the constant chores. Mother sat down and ordered. She was like an oracle. The motherly woman was still not there.
The thing was the mother could not work because she injured her finger. She could never work because she was ill and had lost her leg.
She asked not to be anything but entertained.
"I was young." Said mother constantly," what one can do if one tries."
Then life happened to us all. Life with a capital A the Nermin who had done all the work died. Or was culled she could no longer bear arms outstretched.
She could no longer work. Her house was sealed off by the council. She could no longer open her door. Signed out and outer lost cause.
She had a black mark on her door. The next-door woman had a black mark on the door put there by the council. Whores they have that. Is she ill? Her own daughter did not visit her back then. She did not know her.
Was the woman starving? I went with some tins and she was trying to do machining she said she had done her finger in with the sewing machine and I heard a man upstairs and grew even more rigid. The thing was there was something a teenager is always fascinated with.
I did not know what took me into that house. Did not even want to be there sat at the edge of my seat when she offered me a drink thought she would spike it.
Her ashen face grew even more ashen and then she said sadly I am with a visitor. My brother. He is very handsome.
He was running up and down and then racing through as if he were on something. Drugs I expect it was.
I knew him from somewhere.
He with the whiter than white pants? I thought and then left in a hurry the thing was awkward it was my dad.
I left never to return again to the neighbor who helped us through such difficult times.
I was young. Did not want to seek them to find out about such a woman. She had too many secrets all in the sewer. I just did not find out. She was a woman who had a tough life so what?
She could project.