IAMSANE's Blog - DEATH IS LIKE A BEAUTIFUL SUN THE EVER PRESENT THE THING THAT EVENTUALLY SAVES US FROM THIS NIGHTMARE .... LIFE

To where has gone the spark I had for it has without any doubt gone. The spark with which I was able to ignite others has been extinguished and that surely means that I am one step closer to an imminent closing of my life which is an existence in fairly comfortable corners of this hell but awareness of the horrors that take place on earth every day mean that I can never settle for possibly decades of exposure to this stuff. I always imagined I would kill myself at some point. I still do.

I was living in a flat which the council claimed they owned. I was living in the flat on behalf of Rita my friend who died last august. I remained in the flat until july of this year - until the court judge decided that I should be evicted. Prior to the summons I was feeling as though I would have to go away during the summer as the thought of staying in London did not impress me. I wanted to live in my tent in a field. The summons arrived and I began to think about going away, since my time at the flat was coming to an end. Part of me, when it came to having to leave the flat - what had for a year been my home and shelter - wanted to put up some resistance to being told to leave. What annoys me about humans is that when it comes to the Law we mostly accept without question something that fundamentally is very questionable. I needed to get away anyway but I felt like the sheep they want me to be.

That early morning evacuation was only last month but it feels to have happened months ago. Something unexpected manifested as I was leaving my friend's flat. The woman who lived in flat C of the converted house had offered to give me a lift to the station. I was aiming to be out before the bailiff arrives as I did not want to give him the satisfaction of telling me to leave - also how to deal with a bailiff when the overall feeling is the desire to kill the bastards! I carried out my gear to put in the car and on the street were individuals who were there to see that I have left. It turns out to be a council employee/slave with a locksmith and they are awaiting the arrival of the bailiff. I return to the flat to retrieve the rest of my things - feeling like the sheep when I am one of the rebel lions - he who refuses to act as the sheep.

Outside the two men had been joined by a third and when I recognised him I experienced a jolt, as though an opportunity to play the rebel lion had manifested before me, but I didn't feel up to being able to use this information effectively - it was barely 9.15 am and I had no more than 3 or 4 hours sleep and I was grateful that I was getting a lift to the station with all the gear I had to carry to West London on the tube. As I was driven away I felt sick at having not said anything after seeing the bailiff and recognising him. I ought to have exposed him. Felt very uncomfortable about that for days afterwards.

You must be wondering what it was I had on the bailiff .... well, it was sensitive information that could have been very useful had I organised the filming of the event. It would have served me very well if I had decided to put up resistance but had gained a peek at those gathered on the other side of the door - which would have been impossible since I would have refused to open the door to them. No doubt the locksmith would have put his skills into practice by doing what he was paid by the council/taxpayers to do. I would eventually have seen who the bailiff was and been able to disarm him with the claim that I recognised him from the local gay cruising area - I have seen him often walking around and though there are men who walk around or through the graveyard without seeking sexual relief this guy is not one of them. Of course I don't think there is anything wrong, never mind illegal, about seeking sex in public places, but that is not how the Law views this type of behaviour - the system knows the only way to prevent sexual activity outside of the bedroom is to reduce the number of places where this activity can be enjoyed which is why parks have been shorn of areas where men may conceal themselves and communal public toilets have been driven into all but extinction.

It would have been fun to have toyed with the bailiff in this way - if he is a married man my rant would have been uncomfortable for him and I would have taken much pleasure from seeing him squirm - I have since had many day dreams in which I see this legal thug enforcer of orders from above, who indulges in activity deemed illegal, in the graveyard and in these daydreams I have done everything from slitting his throat to biting off his genitals. I am over it now as I have disconnected through my movements from those events, though it is always with discomfort that I recall walking away and not at least telling the CUNTS to "FUCK OFF!!"

I spent a week in west London drinking elaborate fruit cocktails and smoking 'an evil substance' and had a good time with my friend dog before travelling north of the UK. I spent nine days on the east coast camping in a field I have now visited three times. It is always a great relief to arrive there, set up my tent and climb inside it. When I return from living outdoors I feel ill for days afterwards. The worst readjustment is with the return of the toilet. Outside living means squatting not sitting which is a far better position to adopt when passing faeces. I returned from my camping trip and spent three weeks at the parentage where I was able to walk on the moor, to the dam or down to the canal and back up again. I see wild animals as well as farmed animals, and fish in the dam a place I have been visiting since my childhood. My dreams grew intensely focused on Rita's flat after not having dreamt about the place at all. In the dreams I was there but things had changed, there was a sense of activity with individuals coming into and leaving the property. Open doors. These dreams coincided with the builders going into the flat as I found out from the ally who lives opposite the flat, a friend of Rita.

After having a place to live for a year I am now without a home again and now there is no-one who can accommodate me for more than a few nights at a time and I am no longer willing to live like that. I am not able to get a place of my own to live in as I do not have the income and am unwilling to sign up to the benefit scheme, so I must be brave, as I have been in the past, and see what opportunities arise to keep me rolling. In the meantime I am back in London and since arriving three days ago I have not been out. I have been sleeping during the day, eating more food than usual, smoking, writing, composing a tune on my mate's keyboard - my mate has gone away for a few days and I have it all to myself. Am planning to spend september in my tent on the south coast.

Exposure to the court system, particularly disturbing for me was coming across body scanners for the first time, and exposure to the effects of media brainwashing and how effective the NWO are when it comes to getting the public to demand that their freedoms be taken away from them in the name of 'safety'. All this has impacted on me, on my spark. I am sailing close to the edge and if I fall over the edge I think I shall fall to my death - this hell is getting too hot. It is all wrong. 9/11 - 7/7 - 2012. The future of humanity is on the museum shelf.

Today I left the building for the first time in four days, It was greatly more tolerable because I pre-empted the train journey with a couple of spliffs therefore the experience was constructed of both the beauty and the horror. The beauty was the determination of the trees to block out all man made structures in the view from the station platform. The sun was shining - the sky was blue with a few hazy clouds. An aeroplane drew my attention to the sound it was making. This is the horror. As the plane roared overhead I heard the sound of an object falling towards earth - the whistling of a bomb, I heard this but there was no explosion. The trains were fucked up because it was a weekend. Three trains to reach my destination. I arrived to meet a friend late and she I found to be quite stiff, and I immediately felt this as I got into her car. The conversation did not flow freely and there was some conflict over what we were to do. It was not good but I had to see her in order to give her a brooch that she purchased from me. I realise now that when I am with my friend in her car we do not get along that well. When I am with my friend in what was my home just weeks ago we seem to have a better understanding of what is being conveyed.

I picked up more weed and got rid of a table. The table was the cause of some of the tension between myself and Judith. We were going to take it to a furniture shop my friend dog had suggested hoping to sell it. Judith had taken the table home with her before I left the flat having sold some of the furniture in it but not all, her intention being to sell it for me, which I appreciate. But Judith hasn't tried to sell it and it has been in her flat getting in her way and now it was in her car on the back seat awaiting disposal. She made it plain that if the shop didn't want it she didn't want to return home with it, whatever happened to the table it had to go today. Judith is much bossier in her car - possibly she uses her control of the vehicle to control the actions of those trapped inside the car. The shop was open but those who own the shop were not there, a chap who has a bike shop in the back was overseeing the shop. They would be in the next day but Judith was adamant that she wouldn't get a chance to bring it another time. She was keen to off-load the table almost over-reacting to the urgency. She was nervous of the table being in the car whilst we were in the shop because of the threat of someone breaking into the car to steal the table. A guy from whom I got weed didn't want it but a friend of his did so that was how the table drama was resolved.

I am seeing that most people are in a terrible state of mental health.