It has continued to be a bit of an onslaught. But we at kitchen table. Jazz radio on. medicinals and coffee in hand. All the horror memories are starting to link hands because the parts of myself that hold them are reaching out to each other. The is lots in the joins between the worst that was and still is positive. Obvious to see we have levelled up against denial. Its rock solid entirly necesarly denial some of it though so we wont know how much there is until we get through it if ever do. The pain shows us so much it doesn't gloss over or get distracted it just give it, as it was, as complete as was consciously experienced at the time. A time when there was no numbing, or amnesiac switches, unless it was wanted by them though. The fuck do I call them. They said 'owners' 'masters' 'pimp' and whatever of course but we don't use their terminology. Decades of media, state, crime, intelligence supported organised efforts to experiment with enslaving whole familes, areas, classes of people, industries, whoever they wanted makes from some really sick puppies with lots of time, encouragement, freedom and resources to specialise and flourish. There wasn't much being trafficked out of the house at the time in 2000-2001 that is never far from our day states. Some names already mentioned. Some not. Wasn't in any state for being painted and dressed up, it was all about pain, being repeated told how by them I was an object, their object. Not human, and had to agree to saying that and repeating whatever they said and do whatever they said no matter how disgusting, painful, degrading. Trained like the dogs some of them trained for fighting, fucking and slaughter. When I was taken out our flat it was to places were there was crowds of rapists, all drugged up on some horrific shit. Paying each other and making bets about what they could or couldn't get us to do, what they could get each other to do. Telly faces, crimelords, porn extremists and whoever I had stupidly talked to, smiled at, or thought kindly of. There was a check succession of them in small groups, paid for the access and know how, skills set. Struggles of course between the worst of the sick fuckers with the usual scenes, usually winning until it became obvious to a whole other bunch that yes they really were going to kill me and it eventually got quieter after lots of money crossed from human hands to a system that made us, and the McCanns, and Jimmy Savile, and the Corrie Cunts, and ALL those DJs.. And Leon Britain, And Cyril Smith, and a whole buch of other stuff that if you are looking for 'evidence; out there and not on here you wont of heard any mention of any where.