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Tag Archives: acab

Meditations On College

28 Monday May 2018

Posted by bleedleaf in bio, blog

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

acab, college, criminal insanity, fake warrants, meditation, unaccountable institutionalized medical abuse and psychiatric torture, unlawful detention, with a decently large sized side order of persisting consequent harassment and hardships

At some point near the end of high school I got interested in eastern philosophies. I use to read a lot more back then. It’s not about faith, and I wasn’t into it because of religious or by what seems to me to be understood as spiritual reasons. But yeah, I used to just sit there and meditate. No one needs any training for that really, just sit there. Breathe, stare into the distance, at a particular spot on the wall or whatever. Let your thoughts pass, don’t pay them any attention. Let them come and go on their own like the clouds in the sky, or waves on a sea. Focus on breathing, scanning every part of your body, relaxing any tension you may find lurking about.

Eventually the senses go on autopilot (whichever ones have you), everything is rested and relax. Like sleeping with your eyes wide open. It’s like you don’t really see the things around you anymore but you know what’s there. You still see around you things that are moving or not, you hear the sounds, the smells, you can still feel from the tip of your toes to the top of your head every part of your body and where it makes contact with clothes, the ground, with the air breezing across the skin of your face as you breathe in and out. You take no effort however in noticing all these things; all your attention is focused on breathing, in and out, on letting your mind stay free from thought, letting them bounce off or bounce through. It’s no matter, ideas go on their way without breaking any of your calm. You just breathe in and out, eyes fixated on that dot in space, remaining just about as motionless as you can be in the torrent of existence.

…

Then the cops show up at the door with a warrant signed by the city itself apparently (cause you smart enough to look at the damn warrant), telling you your life is in danger and they need to take you away to save you from yourself. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way, they tell you, it’s time to go for a ride.

How good is your kung fu? I kinda chickened out at that point and went for the easy way. Also I lived on a fourth floor at the time so…

Obviously the easy way involves cuffs, precautions as they say. It’s for everyone’s safety, apparently.

=-=

interlude

=-=

DRAMATIZATION:

them: “You’re feeling angry right now an….”

me: “Oh no. Right now. I’m feeling at peace with my maker. And joy. It’ll be out on break, while I slowly take you apart, piece by piece, as small of them as I can. And with a smile, because I’ll have no shame when it comes back around, and we leave here dripping in your entrails.”

…

=-=

Anyway, as I was saying. Enjoy college while you can kids, cause you know, at some point you run outa money barely making it at a dead-end job, end up unplugging the fridge cause all it has is old yucky chemical mustard, and cops show up at the door to abduct you and take you to some medical facility for a chat, try to convince you 1 and 1 don’t make two and shits. Then obviously, after sending you to a facility for the criminally insane because you’re being uncooperative and disagreeing with their assessments of you, well, once they release you, wether or not, college just doesn’t feel quite the same after… so yeah, cherish and all that.

banner bag of snacks and propaganda

28 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by bleedleaf in arts & crafts, props, riot

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Tags

acab, arts & crafts, riot, snowballs, soft porn

A pink triangle triforce skull, with assorted head-studded peacock feathers and jingle bells earrings, bag banner:

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Pigs chased us out of their jurisdiction last Saturday, all the way out into Battlefields Park, after our morning picnic in front of the National Assembly, in so called Québec City. The mighty morphing fascist furries had reservations there for part of the afternoon.
Here, a pink triangle triforce skull banner (with matching studded peacock feathers and jingle bells earrings) is waiting for them to skedaddle outta the way so it can approach the racist rally unimpeded. Which eventually happened, after this barricade cleared out, along with the surveillance in the area around the gate, it managed to moved up to some few yards away from the meutons’ procession, right down the middle of a deserted street, as they were going round the fountain to escape the area. (if anyone has pics from that part, please do send me, thx)

#FuckLaMeute

send more kibbles!!!(dafuq!? they caption that as if we right wing? crazy nutters)

Look at that dude here, strolled around all day with that … thing, and a heavyish metal chair that folds up to look kinda like a mini-gun, and only got controlled once by 5.0 (tripods can work too, they’re just not as comfy). I mean, folks need to get a tiny bit creative around here. Even got to taunt the pups and their beasty buddies as they tailed on out, and then still free to use the space and sit down for another snack. The banner’s bag had enough water and food, including power bars, to last for days, but cause the weather being real shitty and all, and seeing as no one else seemed to have been either willing or able to stick around to share it with, back home we went.

#ftp

Very sad about all those detained and arrested. How rude. Even some just there by happenstance. Not cool.
And for what?
So a bunch of fascist fuckbags can take a piss and dump in the pond, whilst their spokespersons do the shitshine show to distract media from their far-right extremist allegiances, with truth-obfuscating, deceptive drivel, and pointless, impertinent rhetoric. 44 arrested comrades, and all the while they admitting no one got hurt and no material damage was cause. Wtf!?

Oh, and although snowball riot was fucking awesome, we should take notice that their police riot gear and shields offer excellent protection against small caliber ice projectiles. Will need to level up those, or come up with better plan for next time.


Hey là, vous le witch bloc, on vous trouve sacrément hot
🔥👮🔫#acab💣adabra💥🏦🎉

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send more kibbleLéonard is a cat, an anarchat. Foren, Forar, ch47th (that’s C-H-4-7th) felis catus summoner of fur and creator of graphic content matter.

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ACAB… adabra

19 Thursday Oct 2017

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-bda-, acab, arts & crafts, cats

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BDA #22

Posted by bleedleaf | Filed under arts & crafts, cat

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Suicide by Fascist Capitalism

10 Monday Jul 2017

Posted by bleedleaf in bio

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Tags

-bda-, abuse, acab, arts, arts & crafts, blog, books, cancer, Capicorn, cats, comics, criminality, DIY, e-begging, ftp, fund raising, handouts, health, homelessness, illness, injury, medical torture, nonconformity, police brutality, precarity, prison, resistance, revolt, survival, violence, words

I’ve always been somewhat of an anti-authoritarian. I was always more of a non-conformist in many aspects. I took the advance classes with the rest of the nerds, spent a lot of time playing video games and boardgames, hung out with the skaters and the punks, partied with the metalheads, the rockers, the hippies, and I even played in some of their bands.
I went to college cause why the fuck not, it’s just debt… after three years and as many different programs, I was abducted from my apartment by police and taken to a medical facility where I was tortured for several weeks before being sent to jail. I’ve pondered over the details so many times already, I’m not sure it’s even worth trying describing it anymore.

I have no clue who my real parents are. I’ve been told too many lies already.

In the late 90s, while I was in college and holding a steady job, I was taken to a psychiatric hospital to be medically tortured, physically, and psychologically through a process I’ve come to understand as gaslighting. I can only assume it was as a result of political and social profiling. Or so the official story goes: my legal guardian at the time having been convinced by an ultra-religious uncle, who decided after having had only a short conversation with me in who knows how many years, and that’s about it, that I was into demons and hard drugs or some shit, and that this was the best course of action to deal with it.

And then of course, after that, everyone is just doing their jobs.

From time to time whenever they felt like it, they would give me some loose, sometimes just a little. I was even allowed to leave, sometimes, by one doctor only for another to have me brought back if I did, and then punished for escaping. After the long weeks spent strapped to tables or locked up in padded rooms, drugged, deceived at every turn and manipulated, mindfucked… I escaped several times, I guess. Police were never far behind to bring me back either way though, whether I fled or was let go.

I was eventually sent to jail for violence against one of my captors. Basically, for refusing to consent to their treatments and diagnosis. For several weeks then, I was moved to a different cage. I was found not guilty of whatever it was they conjured up and ordered never to go near that place again. 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. I’m just lying anyway you’re probably thinking. 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.

The story goes on past the time living the streets, the years then spent being a hostage to street gangs (cause where the fuck did you expect me to end up?), defrauded, beaten and under constant harassment by both them and law enforcement thugs, skipping over other ordeals I’d rather not go into right now, and the mundane employments, the community service work, the back to school schtick, the injuries and illnesses, accidents and personal conflicts, bullshit jobs, bullshit bosses, bullshit bullshiters, to the cancer that signalled my definite retirement from the “job” market just a couple years back now.

I am unable to maintain any sort of stable occupation, again. I never was. I have nothing but contempt for this world of fascist for-profit existence. Because I have to, I live on the credit cards which I managed to get while being a student at university, with these days a deficit of around 500$ each month being as low as I allow myself. My medical situation 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. Going by how things are now I’d expect in a couple years at most. Either jail or the morgue follows, it’s practically unavoidable. Too many triggers.

A total of at least an extra 1300$ a month would be needed to cover minimum living expenses, and all the prescriptions and therapies for which I obviously and of course don’t qualify for coverage for.

 

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, start up a chat, send dick pics and such.

Similar gifts will be offered to those who offer monthly support through patreon (soon-ish)
paypal.me/bleedleaf

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Léonard

A Felin Catus anarchat

Fur summoner, painter, graphic content matter creator and ghost writer.

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