that blathering wall of poppycock
Oh. Excuse me. Would you have preferred that I had started with the wall of actual actionable evidence, which on its own may well be "poppycock," or did you wish for an experience other than "blathering"? Excuse me further: when was it that your nuts got into the game on this show? Let's reframe this for context... you're already moving directly into diminishment in order to support your point—kudos—and let us remind yourself... are you even on trial here? Oh, yeah. Right. Sure, I remember now.
So, this is serious business. Great.
you spent your time typing that even remotely bears a resemblance to that of which could be considered "in context."
I have a lot of spare time that can be spent in quiet contemplation with or without context. For example, I do not masturbate myself these days, largely because suffering through the sudden bouts of nausea that flow through my torso when I consider the consequences of what had just happened. I don't even remember what I was compelled to for at all anymore. I once thought it was a pleasurable and healthy way to pass your teeth. I don't know. I really don't. Essentially I saw it as a large brown elephant. It's still in the way. It's taking up space in my car, in my storage box, in the front seat. Why did I need to put this in my car and drive it back and forth at all? No joy in seeing it and imagining its use for a forward time.
You would be surprised by the amount of details I am in position to elaborate on, that is position if not need. I simply do not desire to, truly, in spite of what some have said. Truth be told I have no idea what people are separated from each other by, and I really do not wish to make anything worse for anyone.
Nothing could possibly be worse than where this horseshit has gone. It's been well over a year, and the progress forward in what should have been a reasonably simple project... moving out... has been stuffed up to a degree that I can only describe as "willful foot dragging." I suspected this behavior for some time now, and last night, this behavior was openly acknowledged.
Oh. So you do see that. Well then. How would one explain this over here? And then? And then where? Okay, who sharpens that? Etc. Simple problem solving. It should be.
So when someone can't figure out how to cogently answer questions after spending much of the day doing little to nothing at all, it means that someone is not willing to find out even to themselves what is going on in their lives.
One thing would be, a person is simply busy in their day. Okay, great. Doing what? I have no wish to be nosy. Surely people have privacy within relationship. I certainly feel as though I should have some. But I'll talk about my day. I won't deliberately keep secrets. I would prefer not to. I would prefer to know them and either forget them or share them.
Here's a secret for you, BellGab. Ms. Maid and Innerreach have been friends for longer than I have ever known each of them, I do not know either of them all that well--at all--and for the last several weeks, rather than actually explain to me that she is making time with this person on the side, never sharing their conversations with me, and spending time with each other in conversation on Instagram—spicy—about... well, who knows.
They used to talk about rape a little bit, I guess. Maybe they talked about how she screamed and carried on all the time for the last eight months? I know I called IR very soon after she threw a stick at my head and felled me to the gorund like an oak.
I like IR. I enjoy talking to him, and I've talked to them both at the same time before. For like, maybe five minutes. That's it. He invited she and I to "appear" on his podcast. Together. The three of us. I was tentatively enthusiastic.
Then, of course, she wandered off and spent more time talking to other people--people who were not only free themselves from coordinated, focused efforts on stymying my communciation—but were not being messed with themselves.
Now, meanwhile, for weeks it's been, every time I call this person she shares no details with me, it's as though she has completely blanked our relationship and replaced me with another person. In fact, that happened today: she's got like four phone numbers, and all of them do nothing but forward me to voicemail.
She makes various excuses. "Busy." "Forgot." Oh, do go on. The romance. The joy. The fruit. It's all bullshit.
For one thing, she was in communication with these people before she ever joined the site. For another, the primary complaint I've been receiving about my behavior is that I am too intense when talking about subjects that I have been instructed to simply... not mention.
Imagine my understanding. Refraining from comment, now my speciality. Just shoot me.
#1. It's my response to his punches,
"Punches"? My good sir. Are you not, yourself, the subject of a domestic violence lawsuit in the past? Doesn't a comparison of my statements as "punching" set an aggressive tone in your description of my character in relationship? Why, yes, yes it does... and you don't mind that, that's your bread and butter.
Hang on.
not an act of initial provocation on my part.
You both lied to me in regards to the fact that you had known each other for a long time, and in why you were both talking to me in the first place.
#2. STFU.
First of all, THERE ARE THREE MERMAIDS. This is an important aspect to understand.
1.) Her sister. They both routinely stand in for each other, and as they have their fancy-dancy contact with their ancestors, you know, psychically, they both tend to flip through a lot of personalities and aspects thereof. There's a lot of Geminis around. I don't mind. I like Geminis. She has called them largely, "shifted."
2.) She herself. I met her on Facebook, and when I mentioned BellGab, she feigned innocence, compete and total. She registered at basically no urging from myself whatsoever, in that I said (while believing she knew nothing about the place, when she very certainly did) "This is the most wretched side of The Internet, it knows no lower limit of loathsomeness, you will want to brush your teeth, and your ears after, it's more dangerous than Mos Eisley and 4chan put together." So she blinks briefly, signs up with "Flyingmerkitty" (Imaginative.) and then pokes around on the site... representing herself as having never been there before.
This is key. This is how she behaved with me, OPENLY TO MY FACE, and a great deal of her acting information was simply not accurate at all. I tell her to be careful, the first thing she does is post a link to her Insta with stuff enabled and and the second thing she does is start drinking and finally staring at my face. Oh, no, not that one.
The second thing she does is totally doxx herself with her privacy setttings enabled not at all within weeks of starting this second throwaway account... and blames me instantly for "doxing," right? Becuase instant and loud bellowing is tremendously abusive. It's her brand. Meanwhile, I have gear that has to be equipped now from all over the place... no instructions. No mentors. No documents.
Do I even give a shit? No, not really: I do not. Today, I have come to realize that all of these people focused on my life are focused on my... life. But not to help it.
Who has this much fucking time to sit around and consume content without any kind of turn signals? When did they make that illegal? Why do I even care?
Today is July 17, 2021. I have been observing progress made by various parties. It's all the dumbest shit that's ever been. I dont' want to get in this at all. I thought I would enjoy my time. I don't even rememeber what for. It's always, kiss me here, kiss my three, various parties, sure, whatever.
I can't even think of a good reason to even detail it. You all know what happened: these shitheads though that were out kept going and going and stopped whenever they wanted, and now you're up to 5. Kudos.
