July 09, 2011

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I make so much out of so little. News of the World getting shut down, the press all over the press, like any of it has anything to do with what happened to me. The press/police/thugs all selling and swapping phone tapped information, where I'd be, how injured I was, how regressed I was, who was pimping me, who was planning on pimping me. Which famous fucks where being ritualy abused which were organising it. All that information from taps about child abuse, rapes, murders, fraud and fuck knows what else just deleted. Not titilating enough. Repeating what I knew was essential for me to keep switching personalities. I had numbers I would phone up and just upload it. Clearly, without emotion, sometimes anyway. Who, what, when, where, why. Get it all out it didn't matter who to as long as it was out of me. Dreaming it would get out and I'd find away out that wasn't becoming like them, dreaming there would be public apologieses, arrests, jail sentances, the kids in homes that dont bullshit them and maybe even compensation. The real fantasy isn't truth though its the belief that relationships could be repaired and that it wasn't changed me completly and utterly.

I got some private apologieses though, they count for something when geniune but not hellish much.