Suicide by Fascist Capitalism

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This is in sorts a declaration of intent. It should get reposted as I update the details and find time in which I can work out a final version for my donations page, so it may still containt some inaccuracies. Feedback and friendly chatter is always welcomed.


 (9 Aug @ 12:08)

In the late 90s, while I was still in college and holding a steady job, I was taken to a psychiatric institute to be medically tortured through a process I’ve recently begun to understand as gaslighting. I can only assume it was for being profiled as an anarchist.

I need help with this, still. After all these years I’m still trapped inside that prison. Most of that time spent burying it inside, trying to survive in its shadow. I want, I need, to tell this story and come to terms with it. If only for myself so I can move on.

Until such time, nothing I do does more than just add to this torment. My situation is only getting worse, and the pain of isolation and exclusion only furthers it, fueling a hatred for those who’d have me get involved with their lip service solidarity while only being dismissive, associating me with this group that cause or some other in insistent refusal, dismissal, silence, turning a blind eye and deaf ears to my own cries for help. This system is run by incompetent fools and fascist liars.

I’m always someone else’s problem, until it’s time to call the cops in
and let the shrink experts deal with it.

I need verbal communication. I need a human voice, a conscience talking back to me and echoing me back to myself, to sort this out. Machine communication and words on a screen…

( Spending 99% and more of your time inside this barely 350sq foot apartment, without any meaningful relationship or social interaction, isn’t all as cracked up to be or as fun as it sounds, at all. )

I do not find this entertaining. I want to disassociate myself from this. Your culture of fear, terror, war and violence. I’m fucking sick of these politics, these games, the sordid circus of our fascist for profit existence …


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I’ll turn 40 years old next year.

Along with recently surviving a battle with cancer and several other injuries and conditions which recommend treatment -and severely limit my abilities, I also survived being tortured in the late 1990s by medical personnel at a so called psychiatric ward, my legal guardian at the time having been convinced by an ultra-religious uncle that I was using hard drugs, and that this was the best course of action to deal with it. Hard drugs like atheism, and anarchism, with the occasional reefer.

I was pressured into admitting suffering from what amounts to lies and fabrications, and into agreeing with false narratives about my person and events which had happened to me already. At times, I was restrained and given hallucinogens against my will, and called a liar when I refused to admit suffering from hallucinations, insisting the injections were to help me stop having them. Never before or again in my life. (Even as recently as 2015 I was dog whistled by a pain doctor claiming some cancer treatment options were closed to me because of these “hallucinations”. I was forced to delay chemo because of it, refusing to proceed until that asshole was barred from all access to me, which they only partially complied with.) At times I was told to confess to having lost contact with reality and told to never read sci-fi novels or bibles again, bibles I repeatedly insisted having never opened for the life of me outside of my pre-teen years at Sunday school. Locked in the little interrogation room to think about it, the counselors checking on in passing if I’d reconsidered and was ready to be more rational on the subject and agreed to consider their “advice”. Though I hardly ever read anything, they disagreed, and aggressively insisted it was what was fucking up my mind. That’s where all the conspiracies and ideas about people out to get me that I didn’t even know about or believed in, though they insisted caused my paranoia, came from they’d say. Getting the “good cop bad cop” routines from nurses and therapists with bloodied knuckles. Threatened with further treatment if I refused to sign consent to receive further treatment, and to submit to whatever their recommendations for my condition would be, whatever they decided it was. And more insane scenarios and all around weird shit (including other patients…) for several weeks.

All throughout being repeated that all was for my own good and safety.
Everyone is just doing their jobs.
Could’ve been worse.

From time to time after they decided it had been enough w/e, even as I refused to cooperate with them or to agree with their assessments of the situation, they would give me some loose, sometimes just a little. Once I was even allowed to leave by one doctor only for another to have me brought back for escaping. After the long weeks spent strapped to tables or locked up in padded rooms with only a plastic jug, after all the psychological abuse and the pain of restraints or confinement, the forced injections, the violent coercions, straight up torture all nice and light –nothing more than scrapes and bruises, I still followed through with some threats and attacked first best chance I got. Seized the opening no matter how small the opportunity, testing their limits. I escaped several times, I guess. Police were never far behind to bring me back either way, whether I fled or was let go. As bad as it was, I follow the news, I think it’d be easy to name other mistreated prisoners. I would definitely not want to diminish their suffering by comparison. A handful of months is nothing compared to years or even decades of similar and more intense abuses.

I was eventually sent to jail for attempting on the life of the person I was to ask permission to leave to. For several weeks then, I was moved to a different cage. This current nurse in charge had refused by claiming I was a danger to myself, that I still hadn’t signed the release and agreed to the medications, and my answer to that was kind of an angry “you mean I’m a danger to you.” Two of the medical personnel involved were granted restraining orders against me. I was found not guilty of whatever I was there for and ordered never to go near that place again, given no recourse or compensation, no possibility for justice. No one wants to hear about this, that’s the story: it didn’t happen, it can’t be real, I need help, I need meds, I need to get over it, no one wants to hear about this. In any case, it just follows the same “there’s nothing to be done about it” from referral to referral and back again to some different uncivil servant only interested in which box to check and where to stamp the rubber.

Because I always rejected their diagnosis and medications, and still do. Even in prison they had to force them on me, with their delicate violence gently shoving it down my throat once they realized I could fake it and just spit the pills back in the toilet later. I do now however keep some morphine in the cabinet for rainy days, which they started offering after the cancer treatments, refills whenever I can, just in case.

The story goes on. Working class life. Never managed to save more than a couple grand at once, which went on computers. The list is long: from factories to community centers to offices to construction and demolition work to kitchens and generic retail stores, warehouses, various trades and apprenticeships. This is a fast forward to a couple of decades -and several violent altercations later- past the years spent basically being a hostage to street gangs, defrauded, beaten, under constant harassment by both law enforcement and thugs, skipping over ordeals I’d rather not go into right now, and the mundane employments, the injuries and illnesses, accidents and personal conflicts, to the cancer that signalled my definite retirement from the “job” market.

I am since unable to maintain any sort of stable occupation, again. I live on the credit cards which I managed to obtain while being a student at university in the mid 00’s, with these days a deficit of around 500$ each month being as low as I can manage. My medical diagnosis barely allows me beyond basic welfare support, which by itself doesn’t even cover food, shelter and utilities. Without that credit, if and once they take it away, the streets, with everything that entails, is soon to be the next stop. Either jail or the morgue follows, it’s practically unavoidable. A total of an extra 1300$ a month would be required to cover all the prescribed therapies, treatments, and minimum living expenses.

All that would mean starting up a yearly gofundme type campaign of roughly 15 600$ a year, plus some other amount to cover for what would then get cut from the welfare checks in retaliation.

Donations of 15$ or more would get you a hand-bound notebook if you so desired, blank or with your suggested content printed inside, simply email bleedleaf@riseup.net with your details first. Once the initial production models are used up however, I plan to raise the minimum to 25$. A few of the newer books, made of new paper (blank on both sides for double the usable pages) and natural wool, are already available.
Donations over 10$ give you the option of ordering a Capicorn, or any other available –bda-, for free. Again, please provide with details by email or message first. Feel free to ask any question you may have.

Similar gifts will be offered to those who offer monthly support through patreon (soon-ish)

paypal.me/bleedleaf



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(what follows isn’t directly related, from several year later, after several moves and from a different city. Another one of those anonymous pings, the great reaction judging social cyber experiment at work, another fuck you answer…)

C’est important. Ça raconte d’où je viens et où je m’en vais.

Je sais pas par où partir pour une traduction, ça m’est venu en anglais. Je reçois jamais de feedback, c’est pas une blague que j’en demande.

Ça contient des choses qui hors contexte je ne répéterai pas.

Sur ce qui est des violences, des menaces et des injures de la gens internet, pour ceux qui voudraient m’en prévenir et me sermonner,  d’un côté comme de l’autre, voici ce que j’en pense:

J’ai été témoins de meurtres à sang froid. Tout bonnement, sans artifice et délibérément, avec intentions déclarées, tout filmé, on ramasse un pauvre rien à la rue. On est sympathique avec lui et on l’invite au gym. Là-bas, son crâne est aussitôt défoncé en étant brutalement frappé à maintes reprise sur le dur planché par l’élève qui passe son examen, puis on traine le cadavre encore chaud pour le garrocher dans un conteneur à vidanges pas loin dans la ruelle.

Rite d’initiation et avertissement. C’est ça les black ops. On en a même fait une vidéo qui fut publié en ligne. Les peu de mentions du crime dans les médias cependant laissent entendre au mystère, et les déclarations de la police ne font que rajouter à la terreur. Les informations de tout le monde étaient pourtant là, et les enregistrements indéniables. Le tracé de sang lui-même aurait difficilement pu être moins subtile. Le message était clair.

Les tops commentaires sur le clip à ma dernière connaissance? “Un n* qui en tue un autre. Who the fuck cares!” genre.

Ces gens sont toujours libres et vivant.
Ça ne fera même pas bientôt une dizaine d’année de celle-là.

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Les p’tit pitous qui grognent sur internet pis qui sifflent dans la rue, trop peureux de se dire sans se cacher, j’en ai rien à chier de leurs menaces. Mais vraiment rien.

Arts Department Overhaul

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I spent a long time pondering over exactly how to organize the various things I wanted to have on my arts blog, from painting, sketches, drawings and digital constructs, furniture, designs, texts, texts set to music, videos about music… stories, songs, images, and poems for people places and sometimes even for things that don’t exist, or that do, or that sometimes one then the other… It’s a bit of a mess, there’s a lot of overlap, but the runes are a good place to start saddled in riding a fine line between sci-fi fantasy and reality, not entirely fiction yet not at all made up.

I’m working on a general introduction page for the specifics on the types of xenography and lore used in the rune carvings involved in most of the works I’m referring to here. What they are, where they’re from, how they work and stuff like that. I’ll post the link to it somewhere over here once I’m done, maybe. It won’t be till a while though as I’m not currently done with the mundane cards and little booklets which will be included with each signed piece (and which have in them a glossary of sorts along with parts of said general introduction… ), and shouldn’t be for a couple months still, mostly. Sometime before the next year I guess. I’ll slowly have a few here and there ready as time goes.

I have enough entries to get it rolling even despite that, mostly from the “Shapes” collection, the -bda- series, and a few odds and ends in between. Going over these entries and building up the visual arts section of the blog and website, that’s pretty much what’s lined up for the next couple of weeks, and more. Plus there’s always that unexpected to prepare. For, to prepare for.

Speaking of which. There’s also a special project that’s near completion. It’s basically at the final stage, waiting on the ressource logistics related stuff to move forward with production and distribution… (there’s a working model in my kitchen, shhh). Having a useable image of that one finally assembled is basically what’s holding me back on a couple of things.

(SPOILER: it’s an air-freshener device)
That special project should be done before the end of this summer, and I should be able to set up the page using the prototype long before then. By then I also should have the dozen or so already planned out items either ready or missing minor details for completion. It’s hard to be more precise when there’s such a variety of factors to deal with… hand painted one-time pieces don’t require the same attention, and because their card-certificate and manual won’t need to be itself replicated unlike the digital and print variety, they don’t get elaborated in the same way.
All these things need to be hand written, hand bound and signed.

So enough with the chatter and distractions… other entries in the rune section of the arts catalogue won’t get this much of a fluffed up intro, if at all, as in meaning it’ll probably be much more brief once all that other stuff is out of the way…

Capicorn

If you read this far might as well keep going before looking at the piece’s write up. Seems like it’s part of the recommended intake, what’s coming up next. It’s been designed to provide soft entertainment while your monitor refreshes, and research has proven it to be effective in improving satisfaction when consumed prior to consultation.

The following is a dramatic reconstruction based on the testimony of one satisfied customer who installed Capicorn on a tile leading up to the entrance of their house.


DRAMATIZATION:
Details have been changed to protect the ignorant.
The impossible doesn’t happen, otherwise it would be possible.

Warning:
The following material contains content matter of a graphic nature, reader discretion is advised. Like, seriously… stick to the mundane facts and look over some less elaborate – more sober – entries. This one here in French, the digital-guin (penciled actually), has been available for a while by now: it’s something yellow that hangs in the bathroom, and that’s all you need to know. All those in the Shapes collection are also usually much lighter on the brain and should be ready for browsing soon.
I’ve debated over this enough already, Capicorn is the better frontrunner on this one. There’s nothing else like them.


(Shh… it’s starting.)

-“Jesus fucking Christ Alllmighty son of eh… Marie Mother of God Sweet fucking Mercy what the Hell is going on!!”

A tallish person in a suit, holding a briefcase in the left hand and some kind of pamphlet in the other, is standing as if frozen mid-stride on the side of a road near an opening in some bushes where a small path laid in stone bricks leads up to a house on a foresty hill. Someone comes in from somewhere behind the trees, holding a gardening shovel in one of their gloved hands, their face in a deep shadow cast by the large straw hat shielding them from the bright morning sun rising over the horizon behind. They walk along the path and stop to stand besides the paralyzed pedestrian.

-“Oh, hi there. Beautiful day isn’t it?”

-“Beautiful day!? Wtf is this? I can’t move, like at all! except to talk, apparently…”

-“Are you stuck there? You don’t seem to be moving at all.”

-“Ugh”

-“Mmmm….”

-“Yeah. Mmmm…”

-“Do you know who you are?”

-“What does that even mean? Holy Shit Hell! What’s going on? Of course I know who I am, what the bloody fucking hell? Look at me! I’m frozen mid step. I can’t move! (except to talk, for some strange reason) Anymore helpful questions?”

-“Yes, possibly. Do you remember where you were going, or what you’re doing here?”

-“What I’m doing here?! Are you kidding? I’m stuck here! I was walking along, going up this road, and here I am now in full rigor. As stiff as a board and somehow managing to stay upright. I can’t even blink! It doesn’t even feel like I’m breathing anymore either. Planted here like a statue staring at that stone in the ground. That’s what I’m doing. That and wanting to not be stuck like this anymore so I can get away from here. That feeling is getting stronger by the minute and you’re not helping.”

-“Interesting.”

-“You don’t say.”

-“Hold on, this won’t hurt one bit.”
(gently pokes the trapped victim in the shoulder with the end of the shovel)

-“wha… Oh. Wow. Blessed be the Lord that feels good! phew… Ok, thanks but ho… wwhawwddd di … ddd .owwWWWWAAARAFPHGAGAGGAARRRGG!\!!$\%%#!%!#!&&%*”
(collapses on the ground both hands clawing frantically their head at the temples, obviously in great pain)

-“Oh, right, that part. I always forget about that part. I don’t know why it does that.”

-“…”

-“Anyway, looks like it’s over now. You’ll be fine. Say, you wouldn’t mind telling me which eye that was? Which side you felt that pain in, would you? That’d be very helpful, thanks.”

Small booklets, papers and pamphlets fly everywhere as the briefcase hits the ground and opens after its owner jerks up, wildly flings it away and runs.


THE END


And that’s why it’s hard to keep reliably accurate statistics on these things.


Here’s a look at some other pieces I’m working on a page for:

Not sure which one I’ll finish editing next, this should be in a couple of days I guess. I’ll publish the pages as they get done, and update them as the cards and booklets get finalized. I’ll hit the blog again by this time next week to sum up where things are at overall, after which I might not get the opportunity to post for a bit…
… already feels like July is just around the corner.

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send more kibble!!Quick post to update on the new eh… things, yeah. Things. Like these three new additions to the picture gallery (click for full sized image):


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The classical guitar section got boosted up by a video. Managed a decentish practice take on some Tárrega arrangements, updated the typical daily song list.


And that’s about it for the most part. Haven’t moved at all on the books front, though it’s what I had in mind for the weekend, and anyway supply far exceeds current demands for them. Additionally, going by this year’s number, currently stocked inventory is abundant enough to complete all orders forever so… like, no rush.

If you haven’t looked here in a while you’ll see a huge difference in the sidebar and menus, and if not well you might see some minor changes.

I wasn’t going to make a listens post or list for this week but I’ll mention a couple things. Like Rustbelt Abolition Radio, which I hadn’t clicked on yet when I made my post last week, and The Rebel Beat podcast I’m listening to while writing this.

In any case, to reduce mouse clicking attrition check out the list of co-conspirators over at Channel Zero Network. If you like what you see on that list, you might also like hearing they recently started up an uninterrupted audio stream from a mix of episodes from all of these shows. … !!! Yeah, go check it out.

(ed: wp is totally fucking up with the tweet embeds with this theme so… (does a weird blockquote thing idk))


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Weekly listens

So… wanted to get this done yesterday. Now I got even more listens coming in, listening to something right now! (Which I’ll pause and switch to something music while my attention is here)

Mostly just English podcasts and such, plus the arts history show Artracaille which is in French. Music playlists tend to be all over the place. I’ll start with that one then, since the shows I got noted down are all from last week, and use it as the time marker of sorts…


This week Artracaille was about a German artist, named Käthe Kollwitz, who worked with painting, printmaking and sculpture. The previous week was on a French printmaker, caricaturist, painter, and sculptor Honoré Daumier.

Sub.Media brought us Trouble #5 this weekend. Movement Defense Against State & Corporate Surveillance – You are being Watched
A fifth Burning Cop Car has also been set ablaze.

Another Honest Government Advert, this time on Wealth Care, from The Juice Media.

The Rebel Beat posted a special about Suena A Revolution and a summer playlist over on spotify.

There’s two The Final Straw episodes on this timeline: the one from the 25th with people from Radio98fm in Athens and the one from the 30th with an interview with author Margaret Killjoy on her book The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion.
Their blog also posted an archived episode from 2011: “On this, the anniversary of Sante Geronimo Caserio’s assasination in 1894 of French President Carnot, Bursts shared music about Caserio’s attentat (propaganda by the deed), music about Ravachol, about dynamite, about insurrection. The music is varied in style to say the least, but tied to the theme of direct actions.”

Horizontal Hostility came out with a 5th episode. This time with talking points around post-leftism, fascist creep, and Wolfi.

The week’s episode of Kile Line covers the recent demonstrations outside the Workhouse in St. Louis, Missouri.

Radical People Podcast came out with a first episode on the Tar Sands Blockade and Tree Sitting campaign of 2012-2013, I was just listening to ep2 called “Meat Anchors” about climbing and banner drops before writing this… fun stuff. Criminal dumping tho, I agree kinda stinks to go on record for…

Solecast #46: “Repression Is A Battlefield” talks with J20 defendant facing 75 years of jail time.

Revolutionary Left Radio put up an episode about the crisis in Venezuela and the Bolivarian Revolution.


I’m probably forgetting a few. I only started noting them down over the weekend but I’ll see about jotting this all down as I play them for the next posts, and there mostly all recurring shows anyhow … I can’t think of anything else for now.

I though ending the post with some more video links. BadMouse released a critique of UBI. Dick Coughlan has a new Racist Website Safari Hunt up as well as a more personal video explaining his health issues.

I was also discovering this Kevin Logan fellow and his “Decent of the Man-osphere” series which was kind of interesting… but then both his channels got deleted one then the other. So that’s that.

And this channel here, I also only recently found out and have been going through, which just recently published a nice take on immigration and the fall of Rome.


And that’s about it, since a week, for all the peeps and places I regularly click on these days. It’s Going Down is where I heard about many of these podcasts for the first time, so it’s a good idea to check them out. Speaking of which, I’m a go and turn back on this one here.

Lueur d’espoir?

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Dans une catégorie de réponse: pour n’oser dire rapide, empressée ou sans hésitation, d’où la source que j’ose espérer humaine se présente pareille à elle-même, qui semble saisir l’urgence de la situation.send more kibbles!!


Vous n’en n’êtes pas tanné de constamment parler à cette machine?

Et le retour, ne l’saura t’on jamais assez, sincère:

Vous pouvez partager, faire circuler, en rire sordidement au bord de l’abîme en relisant du Marat et ajoutez mon nom au chapeau de qui ont gravement besoin d’une révolution.


violence, survie, prison, privation, résistance, révolution, insurrection, illégalité, torture, non-conformité, piratage, précarité, brutalité policière, itinérance, maladie, blessure, documentaire, profilage, capitalisme, criminalité, déclaration, abus, anonyme

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Chasser l’impossible

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“Tu fais quoi?”

“Je chasse des créatures impossibles.”

“Wow. Comment tu fais pour trouver ça?”

“C’est pas toujours facile. Comme la plus hostile et dangereuse bête de tous, la plus meilleure violente hostile, la grosse tête à trophée ultime, la plus horrible et dangereusement mortelle à affronter, ça va prendre beaucoup de monde pour l’abattre. Tu peux pas t’imaginer la paye qu’on va s’faire avec de celle-là. T’as envie? Embarque, on s’en va abattre le capitalisme.”

“Cool. J’ai jamais vu ça une capitalisme. On va faire comment si on l’attrape?”

“Eh ben, soit on la dessine ou, j’sais pas, on se sera trouvé des idées rendu là.”


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New Books

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Léonard looking spectacular as usual

These past few weeks haven’t been very productive book wise, but now that all the medicals are over with (at least until the next ones, which aren’t that far away sadly) things are moving along better. Turned out I’d forgotten my good needle and the materials for the covers. Dropped by a store after the last appointment, and the “toned tan” sketch paper I found there is actually better than the one I was using back home. The color is closer to the brown of the spine’s cardboard, and gives them a nicer look than the beige pages. Although in any case both are fine.send more kibbles!

I’ll keep using the new ones for now, until I get back home, but then I’ll save them for the books I’ll make with new paper, as in blank on both sides which basically means double the pages once they’re cut along the folds. As of typing this I have 13 of them completed, another one only missing the finishing touches, and another one still in the early stages ready to start threading which I’ll probably do on the road. I should be back home either tomorrow or the day after, by the weekend at the latest. I’ll take a break from that once those are finished, making it a total of 15 so far if I include the cruder first models, and excluding the half-dozen or so already given out.send more kibbles!!

Not much else to say for now. This place is nice to visit, I’d certainly wouldn’t want to stay anywhere else when I have to come down here for these checkups etc. I try and be the best guest that I can, which isn’t that hard, seeing as my hosts are so awesome. The cat still isn’t a big fan of going outside though he loves looking out those windows, and I haven’t tried letting him out again. He often lays near the door but just walks away disinterested whenever anybody goes in or out.

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He really seems more affectionate out here this time around. Still sleeps as much, but way more playful and cuddly the rest of the time. If I’d had recorded me petting and brushing him since I got here last week, I’m sure I’d have at least 4-5 continuous hours of footage. This place is bigger than the apartment, and he’s not that used to having other people around. It’s kinda fun, he follows me around almost if not all the time, coming to sit next to wherever I happen to be :)


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Spotted this little buddy strolling around in the yard. Shinning bright and intense red under the noon sun, it contrasted so much with the lawn that I saw it walking along from several feet away. So tiny! I thought for a second there I was seeing a dead pixel IRL :Dsend more kibbles!!

Managed to capture it here going across a patch of mud, after rushing back in to get the camera. I’ve seen those before, recognized it once I got a closeup look. A little chigger. Cute, but not at all friendly, not at all a fun guest to have around, and another great reason to avoid letting the cat out- although he did get all his shots and usual preventives against that shit.

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Yours Truly

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“If what you’re telling me is true, and I have no reason to say otherwise, then your story does (not) need to be heard. Most importantly only if you need to say it. You have to find people who will help you do that, you need someone who’ll have your trust, and an undeniable bias towards your situation. That I have to communicate with you like this is therefor an obvious sign that such a person is not me.

If that’s what you want, and you can get the attention of those with authority in this matter, with the unaptly termed powers of justice, you’ll need to be prepared to tell everything in detail. Everything that comes to mind. I can’t imagine this will be easy. You have to be ready to expose everything, no matter how uncomfortable it might make you feel. You’ll have to describe in minutia how it happened as best you can, you’ll be saying everything you remember about these events to people who don’t want to believe you, and possibly never will. Everyone will try and judge you. You’ll need to be prepared of course, you’ll have gone through it over and over again by then.

No matter how hard it will be, and whatever the outcome, if you see this through and either way, your stand won’t be forgotten there and you will find all the strength and support that you need.”

Yours truly have nothing to fear