anne nakis, spooks, living in lies

October 8, 2008 at 3:01 pm (federal protection, human rights, photos)
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Thirty-six

wed 8 oct 2008          Peskeomskut Park, Turners Falls                                                               

To Matthew and Alphonse (two men in love):

Lifeless, grey, puny mice at my feet are only touching, are only a sign of something true when they come from a cat. Yes, yes, there are forces in the human psyche that want always to work in the direction of hope, but this mechanism we have in us doesn’t serve us well when we are unable to shut it off, to identify the situations where there is no hope. You have sat back for seven months of mistreatment of me, whoever is instigating it. You are still sitting back to this day. Your so-called love has not been strong enough to cause you to switch your consciences back on, and therefore it is not strong enough to interest me. Wrongly and cruelly done.

The good citizens of turners falls, some of whom know about my various illnesses, continue to also  sit back and let me sleep outside. No TFer who knows me, and has known me, comes to visit. Once in a while a stranger does, but what do I want with strangers?. No one offers a couch. They march in lockstep to somebody’s tune. I’ve said elsewhere that I never cared much for the people here: by and large ignorant, self-involved, stingy, disingenuous. What pulls me here now is the river that I love here, and the canal, and a certain woods that no one will even drive me to for a visit, and all the things I did with my animals in these places over 22 years. It is not, and never was, the people, that cause me to feel a bond with Turners Falls. And watching them now, watching them do nothing and say nothing when a woman with illness is left to sleep outside in the cold, only amplifies the feelings I always had about them anyway.

Update 29 August 2009: Was I angry? Of course. At the people of Turners, at Matthew and his colleagues. I was left to so much anxious guessing, because Matthew had never seen fit to give me those details concerning how many people were protecting me, how many people were likely to come to hurt me, how big or medium or small this thing was. All possibilities were open, as far as I knew. Any new face or strange event could be tied into the protection, or not. I opted for the fact that anything out of the normal, the routine in Turners and Greenfield was tied in with the protection. I was wrong about a lot of it, I’m sure. But I was in an Aspergers meltdown brought on by too much anger, anxiety and stress for me to handle (and I’ve read about these meltdowns in an actual book), and I just put everything I couldn’t logically explain into one big pot. I was never delusional then, and I’m not now.

                         ~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~

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anne nakis and the feds?

October 7, 2008 at 6:21 pm (art, federal protection, not human, rant)
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Page Thirty-five

tues 7 oct 2008      Peskeomskut Park, Turners Falls

Please see some previous posts. My blogs are a story, a true story, autobiography, and you can’t really get any sense of that story by reading only one post.

I may have been mistaken in April when I believed it was the department of mental health that was destroying my life, and me. After Matthew told me the things he did about my life, over time I began to wonder if my protectors had had anything to do with my eviction. I still wonder. And it’s absolutely clear to me from ridiculous things that were said and done that the Sheriff’s department and the Turners Falls police, and even the disturbed landlady had something to do with what happened to my animals, and are all keeping quiet.

Update 25 August 2009:  Nothing has changed. The list of people who know where my various animals went and when and where each was put to sleep will not say a word to me, despite my grief, despite my great need to know when each one of my family died and where. They were my family, and I want to know death dates for them, and how they died, and what became of their bodies. That matters to no one, what I feel.

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~   website   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

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fascism didn’t die with hitler

October 1, 2008 at 3:54 pm (homelessness, not human, photos)
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Page Thirty-four

wed 1 oct 2008      the connecticut river, turners falls  (where I live today)

website  ~~  braonthree.wordpress.com

I hope some of you will look at the other journals, , but I always hope that. For too long I thought it was the DMH of Massachusetts destroying me, when all along it may well have been the DMH and friends.  Or maybe these “protectors,” as Matthew has depicted them, just sat back and watched others destroying my life, waiting for the moment when I’d land on the street and be a much better piece of bait.

I figured out the law enforcement, criminal aspect of the whole thing in late June. But I was thinking in terms of local  people  —  cops, detectives, whatever. As I’ve said and will continue to say, when I did figure out in June that the people who were in my face all the time must be there because of some police issue of some sort, I confronted Matthew with this idea and he admitted it was so. But I never thought past local cop-types until Matthew told me something different.

These bigger cop-types seem to have kept me in this homeless situation on purpose, despite the fact that I started in mid-July (through Matthew) pleading to be located somewhere, protected in such a location, and taken off the streets. This trouble in my life, it seems, is connected to the “connected” lunatic who lived in my building, and a dead gangster grandfather.  It’s all so hackneyed, so hollywood, so old-fashioned, and, unfortunately, all too real. I wish I were making it up. I wish I were manufacturing it in my delusional little head, the way the good, uncaring, drooling-for-an-exciting-diagnosis people at the Greenfield respite have it. It’s real, and I don’t want it, never asked for it. It’s real, and it’s ugly, and there’s apparently no escape from it but death. If the big folks from Burlington want to make someone their property, there’s no one at all (so folks have told me) to stop them.

Update 2 Sept 2009: So, on Sept 30 last year I was again kicked out of the Greenfield respite, took myself over to Turners, and slept that first night in the little park. The second night, Oct 1, I slept at the river. With no sleeping bag, I froze in the night-time dampness coming off the river. Well Matthew, what kind of protection was that? And skiffs came onto the water and sat there all night, shining little red lights off their bows. I’d never seen such a thing in all the years I’d walked my dogs in that place in the night. What was that all about?

If indeed I am in the protection that Matthew told me about, then I believe to this day that the way it’s been handled is fascist: I’m not human. I’m someone they use and hurt as if I were an object. No respect for law or morality. But, I’ve been told by many people now that I’m an idiot to have thought I would get respect for the law or morality from an outfit like the big cops in Burlington, Vermont.

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

 

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