Blue Moon
Going to need the air con vans, reception. Saw to look on the guy when we checked in. We figured he would be happy to help. We were not wrong.
How much of this can be do without asking CIA guy for help?
its brain surgery, I have DID, there are lots of people who dont want us doing brain surgery, any ptsd person can tell you a nasty trigger can stop you from doing whatever it is you are doing, they would be planning on making it impossible by blasting us with triggers relating to traumas we had not processed yet.
Basically I cant do surgery unless all the people we are most scared of are being watched very carefully. Gotta sit down with different people and list the people we are most scared of the things we are most scared of them triggering and will already be doing. This was looking more and more like a very good idea.
We wouldnt of been physically able to have these conversations before. We wouldnt of been able to motivate ourself to have them now without a specific task, something to focus on, a shared goal.
Everytime we slipped we thought of Margo saying in a shocked voice that the old black guy singing and playing the guitar looked like Jimi Hendrix and how easy it was to answer. She wept. We wept and sang.
We cant write up properly today. Too sad. Too broken.
We remember how we couldnt walk past that van. We remembered we were down, being carried in up the steps surrounded by hate that was thicker than dark and the heat and the nature night stenches.. Then we were up and being pulled away, shouting in our best Brit street rat "Jon your fucking dead. And you to Ollie. Noah your not my fucking brother."
We didnt make it out of Tuscany without any sexual torture. We desperate tried to tell ourself it was possible sitting rocking on the bed in the wee room in Skene but they knew thats what we were doing and made sure we knew they were planning on being there and destroying our chances for the next ten years. But we got their shields and cloaks and a whole lot else from them and exposed their whole history to people who mattered to us but we had plenty ways and means of doing that without us being tortured of course. Seeing the way the lads wept and held and each other up as our older lads held us up and applied local anaesthetic after the rescue. And comparing it to life here.
We did the surgeries, always training others, whenever we can. But not that night. We had statements to make instead. Between listening to the ripples of fire arms and shouting across the park and beyond. We look at the stars whenever we can and they noticed and it was decided to not give a fuck who else might be listening and take the interview outside.
"It's fuckin with the programming you see.." we attempted to explain. "We're told that no matter where we are or what we do we are Louise..theirs.. but before and during that Sirs, we were getting a whole bunch of really practical education. from other sources." They were looking at us waiting for us to explain further so we pointed up at the stars. "We're not in fucking Scotland.." and with lots intoxicated exaggeration "anymore.".
We could feel them smiling without looking at them. My neck was getting sore from looking up for so long in a plastic camp site chair so we slowly straightened and stretched it out without wanting to look to closely at them. They were burning even hotter in the dark. Against themselves and their people, against all rapists everywhere, about these rapists in particular and everything in play that meant we all knew that these particular rapists would be leaving the site in comfort and returning to their creative and interesting middle class lives when we were running on space and sources for refrigerated trucks and vans for the dead most of whom had never got the chance to get near us while us living would have you reigns tightened around our necks and weights on our shoulders beyond breaking point.
"Those American's really didnt want you lot to know they were here but there was no way they would stand back and do nothing when we were in that sort of pain and distress when they could do something about it. God bless 'em"
And first time since we got there we heard a soft laugh from one of them that we really needed to hear.
..
"It's like it was with her Sir" He said. Pointing to me. Maddie draped over his shoulder again for about the third time that day there had been another serious attempt to snatch her back in sex trafficking and surgery rings. "I know." Says his superior quietly and looks back down at whatever he was doing and said something low we couldnt here from where we were. Guy turns round and walks of. We know he would be storming off proper if wasnt for the clingon. We are hoping. Willing him under our breathe, come on man wake up..
He hesitates mid step when just about the past the restaurant and for a nano second that you wouldnt of caught if you didnt know him and where not watching him very closely his whole fucking body froze. We saw it gave the hyper vigilant Maddie a little start before he walked off. Just a holiday maker with a bairn.
"By jove I think he's got it." We said sneaking up to the "superior" once they were out of range and folded our arms and stared at him. "Your very unlucky Sir this is a very bad time to be getting involved in that game." and smiled at him. He started to say "what game" but our head was to the side and we were squinting at him with all we had. He pulled his vicious face and was about say something abusive and remembered in was fucking surrounded and wasnt going to be getting any air support..
..
They hadnt been in there usual spots for a day or two. Someone saw we had been looking at the empty chairs for a while. "Bad sign?" He asked as he sat next to us. It was all feeling very real. "No. Definitely not a bad sign. Maybe even a good sign." We looked over at him, our throat quite dry. "It might mean we have been promoted." We both sat in silence. Before we took a deep breath, "Either way it makes no fucking difference today or for years. So there is no point wondering about it." We got up to go to see to Pablo and he went of to deal with whatever park job he had to do.
How much of this can be do without asking CIA guy for help?
its brain surgery, I have DID, there are lots of people who dont want us doing brain surgery, any ptsd person can tell you a nasty trigger can stop you from doing whatever it is you are doing, they would be planning on making it impossible by blasting us with triggers relating to traumas we had not processed yet.
Basically I cant do surgery unless all the people we are most scared of are being watched very carefully. Gotta sit down with different people and list the people we are most scared of the things we are most scared of them triggering and will already be doing. This was looking more and more like a very good idea.
We wouldnt of been physically able to have these conversations before. We wouldnt of been able to motivate ourself to have them now without a specific task, something to focus on, a shared goal.
Everytime we slipped we thought of Margo saying in a shocked voice that the old black guy singing and playing the guitar looked like Jimi Hendrix and how easy it was to answer. She wept. We wept and sang.
We cant write up properly today. Too sad. Too broken.
We remember how we couldnt walk past that van. We remembered we were down, being carried in up the steps surrounded by hate that was thicker than dark and the heat and the nature night stenches.. Then we were up and being pulled away, shouting in our best Brit street rat "Jon your fucking dead. And you to Ollie. Noah your not my fucking brother."
We didnt make it out of Tuscany without any sexual torture. We desperate tried to tell ourself it was possible sitting rocking on the bed in the wee room in Skene but they knew thats what we were doing and made sure we knew they were planning on being there and destroying our chances for the next ten years. But we got their shields and cloaks and a whole lot else from them and exposed their whole history to people who mattered to us but we had plenty ways and means of doing that without us being tortured of course. Seeing the way the lads wept and held and each other up as our older lads held us up and applied local anaesthetic after the rescue. And comparing it to life here.
We did the surgeries, always training others, whenever we can. But not that night. We had statements to make instead. Between listening to the ripples of fire arms and shouting across the park and beyond. We look at the stars whenever we can and they noticed and it was decided to not give a fuck who else might be listening and take the interview outside.
"It's fuckin with the programming you see.." we attempted to explain. "We're told that no matter where we are or what we do we are Louise..theirs.. but before and during that Sirs, we were getting a whole bunch of really practical education. from other sources." They were looking at us waiting for us to explain further so we pointed up at the stars. "We're not in fucking Scotland.." and with lots intoxicated exaggeration "anymore.".
We could feel them smiling without looking at them. My neck was getting sore from looking up for so long in a plastic camp site chair so we slowly straightened and stretched it out without wanting to look to closely at them. They were burning even hotter in the dark. Against themselves and their people, against all rapists everywhere, about these rapists in particular and everything in play that meant we all knew that these particular rapists would be leaving the site in comfort and returning to their creative and interesting middle class lives when we were running on space and sources for refrigerated trucks and vans for the dead most of whom had never got the chance to get near us while us living would have you reigns tightened around our necks and weights on our shoulders beyond breaking point.
"Those American's really didnt want you lot to know they were here but there was no way they would stand back and do nothing when we were in that sort of pain and distress when they could do something about it. God bless 'em"
And first time since we got there we heard a soft laugh from one of them that we really needed to hear.
..
"It's like it was with her Sir" He said. Pointing to me. Maddie draped over his shoulder again for about the third time that day there had been another serious attempt to snatch her back in sex trafficking and surgery rings. "I know." Says his superior quietly and looks back down at whatever he was doing and said something low we couldnt here from where we were. Guy turns round and walks of. We know he would be storming off proper if wasnt for the clingon. We are hoping. Willing him under our breathe, come on man wake up..
He hesitates mid step when just about the past the restaurant and for a nano second that you wouldnt of caught if you didnt know him and where not watching him very closely his whole fucking body froze. We saw it gave the hyper vigilant Maddie a little start before he walked off. Just a holiday maker with a bairn.
"By jove I think he's got it." We said sneaking up to the "superior" once they were out of range and folded our arms and stared at him. "Your very unlucky Sir this is a very bad time to be getting involved in that game." and smiled at him. He started to say "what game" but our head was to the side and we were squinting at him with all we had. He pulled his vicious face and was about say something abusive and remembered in was fucking surrounded and wasnt going to be getting any air support..
..
They hadnt been in there usual spots for a day or two. Someone saw we had been looking at the empty chairs for a while. "Bad sign?" He asked as he sat next to us. It was all feeling very real. "No. Definitely not a bad sign. Maybe even a good sign." We looked over at him, our throat quite dry. "It might mean we have been promoted." We both sat in silence. Before we took a deep breath, "Either way it makes no fucking difference today or for years. So there is no point wondering about it." We got up to go to see to Pablo and he went of to deal with whatever park job he had to do.
