March 20, 2014

Where Quine?

I want to go home.
But where Quine? Where?
And to ourselves, how and who?
I want to go home.
Do as you would be done by she lived by that believing the adults believing other kids didn't mean it believing nothing could be this bad and the torture made her believe nothing was or ever would be. 
She is a satellite forever resending the same what now signal to a server that has long since been broken up, sold in parts, or scraped.  Her engineers moved on decades ago. Her programmers as indifferent as ever. No confirmation that the message is received and no reply.

I want my notes back.
But no one will ever have that. The notes are our history to have them back means we have an identity to have an identity means we are not waiting for our friends, our allies our soldiers our money our family our bairns our lovers ourselves and need no acceptance no recognition from anyone else.

We need to bury our dead.  We will be frozen forever with them if we can't. But that need just makes them not exist more. Like us that still need to eat to get up and pee toys that were ripped apart in squabbles between spoilt bairns then hidden by the starving who pick over the remains. You can not bury something that doesn't exist they would say. You can not mourn because you do not exist. But it was always obvious that them with their bank account faces
were the ones who aren't real. Our flesh our bones our DNA our handwriting our intelligence our work is all that is real.  

March 19, 2014

Journalism! Law!? pfft

Its going really well with Exaro!! I didn't want to attempt to write up stuff when I didn't even know who we were talking to and didn't know how much they already knew from blog or whatever so we sent this first..

Dear Exaro,

Thank you for asking us to get in touch over twitter.  As I don't know what if anything you have already read I will assume you know nothing and tell you first of all that I am currently seeing a private psychologist who is treating me for Dissociative Identity Disorder and PTSD as a result of severe repeated traumas which began in childhood and continued into adulthood.  The NHS have never offered DID as a formal diagnosis but described disclosed incidents of serious and organised abuse involving Savile plus others many of whom are in positions of trust and respect as the result of Persistent Delusional Disorder.  I was prescribed anti psychotics three years ago and took them, they did not make any of these 'delusions' go away.  Similarly requests for help with the long term and ongoing depression, anxiety, emotional and interpersonal problems, intrusive disturbing memories etc have often been met with offers of anti depressants that have never helped and 'just get on with your life' type comments and I am therefore no longer engaging with NHS psychiatric services.  

After contact with Yew Tree when the investigations began the familiar practice of police just not getting back continued but persistence did result in me making a statement a year ago next month during which a willingness to be contacted by Fernbridge was mentioned as Elm Guest House is very highly likely to be one of the many places Savile took me to.  After giving the statement the police woman told me that she would get back to me after speaking to the met.  No one ever did. Although when I phoned the NHS inquiry into Savile's activities in hospitals when they didn't reply to an email about support for completing a written statement that that the Met had told them not to talk to me because of ongoing investigations into living persons.  
I contacted my MP late last year, after La Vell was declared not guilty and the Watkins trial was ongoing (both of whom I have made serious allegations against on more than one occasion) my MP met with police but I know nothing about what they discussed other than the police said they will contact me. Due to the level of police involvement in the abuse networks I grew up in and plenty of experience of how high, wide and deep all this goes I have no faith that anything me or anyone else ever says about any of it will be investigated properly or acted on.  It seems highly unlikely that if I could not get police to stop abuse when it was ongoing no matter my age in reporting, the presence of physical evidence or where about in the UK I reported it that they will be in position to do anything about it now.

We have read very little about your investigations due to how overwhelming the triggers are and because we don't believe that the kind of evidence and witnesses that journalists want is going to be found but did email your piece on Sidney Cook and 'the one that got away' to our therapist as we thought it demonstrated the sort of culture we remember and because she was having difficulty believing that the murders we talk and write about were actual events and not staged to terrify victims and witnesses.  

I would be interested to know if you wish discuss anything more but would plead that if you do, you approach us with great sensitivity and an open mind. Also if you wish to continue and then change your minds for whatever reason, please let us know even if you do not want to state why.  It has not just been the police that have failed to return calls or emails after stating an interest and this reinforces a sense of existing below anyone's area of concern and without any rights as was engendered during the abuse. 

Kind Regards,

I thought maybe they would ask some questions about the guest houses, the abuse parties with people from TV and Savile procuring kids or something but got this..

Thank you for your e-mail.

How do you think we might progress this?


Your the journalists for ffs.  Not even a name. Just 'editorial'.  I suspect whoever asked me to contact them on twitter is not Mr Editorial.  I should of slept on it first, shouldn't of put so much in first email, shouldn't of mentioned delusional disorder,  should of said more and been more specific, should never have bothered thinking that someone was prepared to listen to us, to then think about what we are saying and ask us questions, should never of thought any employed person in the UK wants anything to do with the truth.. we were pretty hurt by the lack of any effort to engage with us on any level so rattled this off..

Whats needed is investigations to expose the links between organised crime and the police, social work, medical, media, entertainment, legal, political, intelligence and military professions and how these links and the cover up of these networks and crimes against the vulnerable commited is aided by the existence of secret societies, institutional and society wide prejudices such as gender bias, racism, homophobia, victim blaming and the a lack of awareness and treatment for for PTSD and DID.

Of course none of this can be remotely possible without persuading more people to come forward.  Their anonymity must be respected.  Many fear legal repercussions for talking about crimes they were forced to commit, some are already being blackmailed and are concerned for their careers, many are still trapped in lives of crime or are high profile and everyone fears for safety of themselves and those they care about..

(formal name)

No response.  No response from Green's MP. Still no contact from police despite MP's assistant saying he chased them up but he did say I could contact him again if I wanted.  No contact is better than physical/verbal attacks but ignoring someone when they reach out is also abusive of course.. Is this it then? The best we can do?...

March 17, 2014

Teens aren't all that into My Little Pony..

So we got them a 4s..

All pretty charmed by it so far.  Lots of therapeutic, creative, intellectual uses... Generally smiles around. Poetry, note making, doodling, reading, little soothing facilities all in one place. Not too scared of it either.. Finally allowed tech privileges. Blimey..

Flowers have become more of a thing. What with more baby mothers coming forward. 

They can have the flowers without the hospitals.

March 04, 2014


When the initial "fuck that's us, we were totally awake and totally knew what we were doing so must of know what we were doing at other times to" passes there is always a lull, a dip into feeling pointless, desperate and of remembering trauma. Endless trauma. Complex and organised. Straightforward and random.  Vicious and organised, casual and thoughtless.  Endless trauma.

We figured that our only real allies might be found in the ranks of those that said they put all effort they could into making things worse forcing someone else would be forced to stop it all.  Knew lots of our worst enemies would be there to.  But that was back in the eighties.  When I could be easily stowed away and didn't ovulate.  When all the cameras and playback still had the power to fool some of us into thinking we were being heard. First we had to learn how to not just completely loose it when we saw that walking dead look in peoples eyes then we started to realise that the walking dead look meant we weren't being watched quite so much.  Most people had no idea how integrated we where if we were ok enough to know and had the strength to pretend. Then we started noticing that some of the people around might be quite useful in stopping it all if they had the right help and if we were able to keep some of us safe from all the control and manipulation.  That was the eighties though when it rarely went that long before some other people who came along to undermine the last horror lot though.

Nothing we did ever stopped it though.  Just changed it a bit.  We could dissociate or black out the violence so well but they wouldn't let us stop seeing the network.  I could see how bad things would get before they got any better.  I insured what I could and set up systems that gathered, stored and insured.  I made sure our best thinkers were the best protected.  They didn't care about all the efforts that were being made to maintain an amnesiac ANP they were younger and said they didn't know or care about any of that that.  They were going to take it all over.  This would often make us laugh at them.  Which would often antagonise them. All of us were to see them, remember, and be retraumatised by it into vulnerable states forever.  Them and their victimisation were all we were told be would ever know and we were told that over and over everywhere they took us or allowed us to be.  They said they would always have all the power and money and we would never have anything and always be used by them for fun or to make them money or get them favours. The rest of the world didn't matter because no one cared or knew about what they were doing.  If anyone resisted they would rape them into giving up.  Above all they needed us to not ever look at ourselves because when we did we would remember to much and remember no one has complete control all the time over anything.  Unless it was times when had the most access to us and had being doing whatever they wanted to us the longest.  Then they would take us to a mirror, in my homes, their homes, hotels whatever.  Saying how every time we looked in the mirror we were all to remember them, everything they did, everything they forced us into and how no one helped us.  They really did seem to believe that we would never get away from them.  The found out how we pretend to believe to believe them and worked on that for on and off for ten years.

There was a world out there though and scattered across it are people who invest all lot in our survival but if the parts are severely traumatised and the body in shock all the time we couldn't reach them.  They and when I say 'they' I am talking about mostly white educated British people with Suburban backgrounds.  Many with connections to the BBC and or music industry, those with or perusing careers in media and journalism or politics.  There was lots of gangs of assorted colours involved but they were hired and/or manipulated by the repeat offenders.  Police and professionals from fucked up rings as well of course.  Lots of the intelligence people we talked to genuinely knew little about a lot of it but I still knew it was always either coming directly from people in their profession or their protection and hiding of the real source of it all that was instrumental in maintaining it.  For most of the nineties they were increasingly controlling when parts came forward, working towards having all of us, all of the time.  By the end of the decade we started losing any control over our contact with anyone vaguely friendly at all.

We all know all the lines from Anne Frank and many, many others. Don't think about whats lost.  It's so hard though.  Music is the only break in the isolation for so many of them.  Of course its all laden with rape triggers everything is but some of things are also laden with we survived and so will you triggers as well.  Don't pay for it.  Don't trust it.  Seriously.  Any of it.  We do.  The 90p or so price of the track doesn't really register much in the scheme of things.  It's like forget about Monsanto or Nestle or even bloody Disney or whatever stop paying the music industry music and the BBC, forget about most journalists and have nothing to do with any porn or British Military Intelligence agencies.  Seriously.  Please..

March 02, 2014


Yeah so the unmarked uniforms and vehicles. Russia.  The East.  Braveheart and Word Up out.  Avcii or whatever of course.  Tracks have been paid for, not the Word one yet but its quite likely as when it comes on the radio there are a lot of happy bairns.  The teens need to be more than heard though they need to know are known, hence 'Braveheart'. If we don't know by now we never will. Which is some trick for us to write by the way.  If the teens don't get out of bed and give us more and help with all housework and such we will struggle to live healthier.  What triggers the abuser have laced it with isn't the point.  That shit is everywhere all the time everywhere, Yew Tree and the Coronation Street trials for fucks sake.

take me in I'll take you higher...memories wide open,, songbird keeps calling.. Braveheart init.  They smile and roll their eyes instead of slamming doors and its much better. We go back to 2000/2001 easy with that track. It was the like the last one of that batch.  My time was to be handed over to a few months of porn.  We knew at least some of it wouldn't be happening. But we know what going back to 2000/2001 easy means.  Look further back, try 80s thats when they started saying everybody lives were all mapped out for them and they definitely succeeded in determining mine a fair bit so many not a single note of it is ours, like the voices we hated used to say your not making this we are giving it to you as a gift. Aspects of the music industry still have as much concern for 'informed consent' as the sex industry then...

They keep saying we don't exist, we do.  We might be able to accept the world thinking that but don't let them fool us.  Not matter where you say it you know you will be heard.  They needed to know I hear them, that at the very least a few others will go 'I've heard that before'.  What it triggers in anyone else is beyond our interest to be honest and its not like I can trust the MSM or the internet or most people so there is no point in us worrying it anything bad would never of been our idea and its not like we never tried to fight it.  

I was coming round to it but not in a increasingly aware of being in any particular situation kind of way that can happen to most parts but in more of a waking up to being a person with DID who was being trafficked in all kind of ways using all kinds of means to enforce.  It's like a handing over.  Each part shows the main one what they are doing and why they are doing it and then stays with the main one until they are understood and the main one now knows how to act like that part but is still the main part.  The other part is no longer isolated but knows it is part of a system with lots like her/him and there are stronger parts around to protect them all.  The main part as lost some of her amnesia and therefore her fear that makes everyone vulnerable to triggers.   It couldn't of been that far from our flat in Aberdeen but remembering journeys is always something traffickers are keen for you to be short of memories of.  Another studio.  Wasn't the best but the mixer wasn't cheap and I would find myself staring at it and wincing, thinking of the hours of hell that me and other people had endured for it and knowing it was a drop in the ocean.  Trying desperately to see a way to believe that real change was possible.

We knew we had done all this before.  Found away to get back into the studio alone.  Just to play.  We had stopped doing that just for the music.  Having to delete it all afterwards was sleeve drenched with tears traumatic and giving some of it to someone else to keep safe didn't work either because sooner or later we would resent and despise that they had access to our work when we didn't.  I guess to many it was the giving of the music that was instrumental in the long run to help parts that had to use victim thinking to survive to begin to acknowledging all the glaring exploitation.  Recognising the music as there own or of as standard below their own helped them see how far from useless they were without their 'friends' who were often 'lovers' who would understand that they could only be our friend when we were old enough to explain it to them.

A studio and a half arsed danced track and some rapey fucker.  Well there's a surprise.  There was something in the repetition with this one.  It wasn't repetition. There is something going on with the body, feat are tingling but not in a bad way and their is something in the shoulders and subtle movements of the privileged white boy thugs that on the dials.  She said she was going to do this.  To just hand it all back to me one day.  My flesh and all the industries and social control experiments it was linked to.  Just handed back over after many years of invisibly jumpy up and down on the sidelines in getting embroiled in some bullshit manipulation of other people, other things in order to have a voice.  Of course we fucking protested.  We knew without us she and everyone us was fucked and putting things of was only going to make this worse.  Everyone makes mistakes though.  Especially when your a child and being ritually raped and tortured by people who are powerful in the same powerful social circles that are claiming you do not exist within the frame of the law, who maintain there is no life no deny any human rights to.  Your gonna loose it from time to time. And we were losing in situations where there were well organised plans to manipulate whatever form of losing it we went through to fit the interests of people who traded in unrecognised people and the individuals, networks and organisations who are sympathetic to people who sell children to me raped and beaten into lives that suit abuser tastes.

Like I said. It was 2000/2001 ish and not near the end of that time more like the beginning or in the lull near the middle when the body was ok for a while.  Why did he let those lyrics go through? I knew he was a complete cunt so it couldn't be anything to do with wanting to help me.  Could it?  It was just a line or two and a song title really.  What difference does it make?  The only thing that seemed certain was that whoever he was and whatever the fuck was going on he didn't know as much as we did.  We tried to hide it from ourselves or at least stop it from becoming to overwhelming for a consciousness that took a lot of hits but had learned and refused to stop growing in someway through it all.  But it just became clearer and sharper.  We were awake.  I didn't worry about whatever bullshit signing there was before we left, we were almost all here, someone would know what was expected, we just knew we needed to keep the body safe while the waking up was so ongoing as it was.  Did notice the white shites were back to being complete cretins and I couldn't see what name we signed or anything that was typed (if anything was) on the paperwork as the deed was being done, noticed that and someone strong internally, breaking.  Knew our teens needed it and they need attention.  I have to let them be young.  It was impossible to forget, being so aware of how hard we were working with music and speaking to people to be conscious and how confident this had made us feel and act.  How much I was able to feel in this body and know all that that means.  It seems likely that whatever team is behind Braveheart and in particular wherever the money goes are not very nice people and/or have had some involvement with sex traffickers or are connected to people who are.  I don't know anything about the up front act but I'm guessing they were very very young back in 2000/1.

Word up isn't quite a mess of triggers beyond something about when Mel C did and thinking it was well pathetic.  It guess it was more of a 'could you do this for me' rather than directly connected to stuff like going over and over vocals or instrumental layers that are never kept, blasting you when you are already physically weakened and all the millions of other music related punishment and exploitation.  We don't know about all the other times but at least one time when they played some Braveheart mix at us after we had been thrown in the corner of the studio with the big vocal booth after extended hours of gang rape if not days and when we heard it we felt wrapped up in a cozy bubble and could listen enough to identify different parts within it and when they were taped.  I walked out of there doing my best not to see the people who were there to stop myself from attacking them.  There was too many of them it would mean little but punishment.

We sat and listened with some of the callers during the days after fascinated before telling them we knew what was going on and to stop calling.  Trying to figure out what we could do something about and what we couldn't stop before realizing we didn't need to listen to any of it.  It felt important to hear the parts that abusers on the line had been hurting and manipulating all those years for without them knowing we could hear them.  I guess we grew up.  We knew we needed to use the anger to get us out we also knew we had to stop the anger from pulling us back in by going after abusers that had already been persuaded to leave us alone for the time being.

It did seem to be some serious shit.  Real military shit.  We told the littles that thought they must be the good guys to calm down and other littles that thought they must be the bad guys to pay attention we had control of ourselves.  If felt like it might be more or become more than another abuser led puppet show with fancy props and locations.  I kept looking down at the uniform surprised to see that it fitted because it felt like it should be way to big.  We had done it enough times before though. I don't know who I am. I just know I'm a victim of British Intelligence and they sell me to others. I don't who any of you are or what is going on here but I'm pretty sure I don't like it.  I can't do this anymore.  I have lots of self defense skills. I might be able to explain what I know about whats going on but your going to have to explain to me whats going on here and how your not involved in sex trafficking.. Sometimes we wouldn't need to get to the end before someone would say one of our names.  We would set it up sometimes so the hurt ones would wake up armed and surrounded by people who had never hurt them.  Anything to let as many of us know as possible to not give up hope.  It was ridiculous we had to go to the other side of the world just to contact the other side of my head.

So when we found people that would listen and could listen we would do our best to give them everything we could and be as honest as possible about both our capabilities and limitations whilst making absolutely sure they knew how the British RA networks with the CIA and their sponsors were hitting anyone they liked including them with the same shit they hit me with and very few people were doing fuck all about it.  One of them called us when we were out there.  Probably from a radio 1 studio.  There didn't seem much point in wondering about who told me to take the phone but I remembered being curious at the time as to why I was told to take something from here, deep in BBC/"It's not us." 5 horrors we didn't look any deeper into what came before and after the women who told us to take it than we do know.  BBC/Military Intelligence/trafficking horrors. It was best to act as brain dead as possible.  They had levels of violence against me, others and children especially that I couldn't match and would never want to.  I sensed so much meishness around in increasing amounts we seemed to be getting organised for something big and no one was being left out but we knew the rape wasn't over yet and we had to accept that these men somewhere out East weren't going to be able to stop everything that what was happening to me in the UK.
I said something about knowing I wasn't here by consent because I didn't have weed on me, they looked at bit bemused.  There was some language barriers but their English was mostly good their Scots not so much. We had eaten enough to not care.  I got something to smoke of one of them and went outside. How much wine had I drank? Not too much I thought as had I managed not to knock over or walk into some big vase or something that was next to the door way.  We allowed our selves a quick but deep gawp at the decor down the hall to to fairly grand front doors, it seemed to be speaking to us in a secret loving language only we knew.  Can't tell you about the scenery outside.  We often keep that to ourselves unless we really have looked at it a lot or its really needed.  It is also because we know that its safe to assume people that want to keep in trafficking will be listening or paying attention in some way sooner or later.  When they invest.  They invest.  The scenery, as always, reminded us that we are connected to the Earth and every benign thing on it in an unbreakable way that made me know the physical rape would be ending soon.  We willed in a voice saying affectionately but with some irony 'You've done it now kid. Your on your own'.  We felt that tingling in our feat with that sense of being both myself and strong again, I was beginning to remember we used to be much more familiar with feeling like that.  The air was sharp but not bitter cold and I loved it and every teeny itsy non UK atom of it.  One of them came out smiled and said something that I knew meant we needed to get a move on.  It felt great going back in I knew we would be able to talk properly.

I had thought that we could never properly be ourselves in Scotland, in the UK anywhere.  We tried to test this and thought we have proved it wrong for a while.  Then we started regretting the whole exercise, it had been a very bad idea.  I should of trusted myself.  Maybe its different now and independence would certainly be better than no independence but we still can't accept that this is it.