7:01 pm

It's me.

Not Polly.

No.

Me.

Anyway.

I spent a lot of days fantasizing about the game Quiet.

Not since the last entry. But closer in these few weeks.

So, in this Game of Quiet. It takes place in Polly and His' past. In another Alternative Universe where Mono-Gate (the events of the previous entry) never happens. Anyway. In the game of Quiet. The goal is to remain quiet.

That's it.

He found it odd his wife just wanted to be quiet. As a "game". He got unsettled and defensive thinking this was another one of her little tricks.

It was.

The first ever round of quiet he'd turned down to Polly's dismay. There was no way he was gonna have what could turn into loud sex- at his parent's house. They were there for the thanksgiving weekend. Polly's idea. He wondered if it was just for the game, but with how "familiar" she was with his parents. He couldn't truly tell.

But regardless. Actual quiet sex he was down for though. Which Polly turned down to his dismay.

Polly turned him down on purpose because of course she was dtf. They both knew this. Her husband was her husband after all.

She'd forgotten about that happening though, Polly, until about a year or so later. They were spending the Christmas weekend at his older brother's house when he'd asked her to play Quiet. Now Polly got unsettled and defensive thinking this was another one of his little tricks.

It was.

Regardless. She agreed on the spot to one up what she though was him being a fucking pussy the last time. Quiet was her game after all. It wasn't until her hands were tied apart to the headboard of the guestroom's bed. With him under her, and her looking down at him with her wrists almost to her ears, did she realize that that was going to be difficult. In the middle of a soundless night. Not even the bed creaked. She had to remember that the lady and the man of the house were in the other room. And she zones out thinking Why the fuck is their room right next to the guestroom?

Being tied up was not in her vision of the game. Looking down at his beautiful face. Polly watched intently as He went over the exact same rules as she did once. With not an ounce of gloating on his face. He went over a rule she'd just remembered that she forgot. He was taking this seriously. More than her. A some point during the reiteration she zoned out and pictured an immediate jackhammering which she would keep quiet through. Because it'd hurt. It's easier for her to stay quiet through pain than pleasure. She thought piece of cake in one way. And not so piece of cake in the other. But he's knows this. And she doesn't know he knows this. So she's surprised when he starts very quiet and slow. With just his hands gyrating her hips into him. He's not speaking. Looking downward. Breathing very lowly and slowly while he worked. With seeing that, Polly remembered that the rules apply to both parties. And he's winning just by catching her off-guard like that. And by keeping quiet. Polly though, was already heaving slightly. She had to remember she couldn't move. If they're caught. That's it. She loses. So, she steadied her breathing, and got quiet again.

She felt frustrated knowing she gave him rope to tie her up with.

Metaphorically.

This was her idea after all.

Her game.

15.10.2022

3:55 pm

Didn't finish last night's entry. I kept getting horny when I didn't want to be.

Also.

I was high.

Weed. Didn't stop smoking it. Felt like I was going crazy last night. Then woke up this morning feeling fine. The noises outside, that I hear when both high and not, really got to me. I'm holding up better. But man, the screecher's working overtime these days. I think Richard or Lester's mad today. More than usual. They're always slamming their car doors super loud in the morning, afternoon and night. You'd swear they live in the middle of nowhere.

Anyway.

I thought about researching spirituality. Me. Not Polly. In the form of doing spiritual research. With being from the Caribbean, specifically from Trinidad and Tobago. A Very Afro-centric and Indo-centric twin isle, a twin isle impeccably versed in Spirituality. It's very hard to tell what's normal and what's not. Especially in regard to my life.

I don't feel like talking any much more about that.

Another time.

Anyway.

Ms. Wilson at HDC fell for my- I dunno-. I can't think of a word other than trap. I don't think it's a trap. Just feels like what I did. Otherwise. Ms. Bailey, the manager. Told me they have a relationship with the killers and criminals at the governmental apartments. She didn't call them "killers" and "criminals". That's what I'm calling them.

And yes I am a criminal too.

I dunno about the killer part yet.

Anyway.

That alarmed me. What Ms. Baliey said about the relationship. She said it like it was normal. She even used the word relationship to describe the "union" or whatever. From there she'd swapped out with Ms. Wilson. Which was convenient because she told me all the wrong things. I will start off with honestly saying I made a gamble on whether or not I'd be taken seriously. The coin landed in my favour. I told Ms. Wilson about the possibility of Danielle renting illegally in a governmental apartment. Ms. Wilson asked me what the apartment number was and the address of said apartment. I didn't know. But what I did know was the name of the apartment's real owner. I suggested HDC run through their database to find the owner's name. Which I gave to them. And thus, they would have the apartment number and address. You're welcome. She brought up some bullshit about owners having mortgages on apartments legally and can thus rent them out if they want to. I said, well how can we be sure that's what's happening?

5:14 pm

Left to take a smoke and come back.

I'm thinking about The First Man. Adam. And how he said it was easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than a rich man to see The Kingdom of Heaven.

Like he's going to heaven even when poor.

Anyway.

Thing is I know it's happening. Danielle ran me through the process of her business. How she got the apartment. The risks etc etc. And I was happy for her. Until I saw police and two paramedics at that same apartment. With me hearing I was being taken to St. Ann's Psychiatric Hospital. Located in St. Ann's. She told me I could stay at her apartment for at the very least. A night. Or until I'm on my own two feet.

Because she couldn't see me homeless after I chose to be.

And then BOOM instant lock up.

Thanks Danielle.

PS. I only got good sleep their because I finally got to sleep on a bed.

So thanks.

Anyway. She had my cellphone for 5 days while I was incarcerated.

WhatsApp conversations with Him were gone. I'd noticed a few weeks later.

I'm paranoid about that.

But. For the most part. Prepared.

Anyway, so I thought what can I do with this?

How do I benefit from knowing her business?

And at the very least not get Danielle in trouble.

But not because it'd be bad.

But because it'd look bad.

I knew Ms. Wilson wasn't gonna give me shit and avoid all the suggestions given to see if a crime was being committed at one of HDC's housing units. If my sister has moved due to them taking me seriously. Well boi I'd be hella surprised. And not sorry.

If Ms. Wilson is still working at HDC I'd be hella not surprised. I'm not sure about wherever else, but that happens a lot here.

I worry about Baliey and Wilson saying what I say and said isn't true. What happened isn't true. The first conversation I had with Ms. Wilson ended with her advising me to seek an apartment elsewhere. That's odd. She didn't wait a while before saying that. An agent working at HDC told me flat out don't waste your time.

I thought Oh so they know.

They know they're wasting people's time. They know that the apartments are FLOODED with illegal tenants. And to be fair. Had Danielle actually let me stay with her. I'd have been an illegal tenant too. To me that's not truly the problem. I could make more than that a month just by picking up bottles. It's that cheap. It's like $200/monthly rent. And they're still lots of other "illegal" tenants (as in they own the apartment units but don't pay their rent). And they don't pay their rent.

With the relationship and the high crime rate in the Trini Projects, the only course of action for HDC, appears to be to turn away, and turn away, without telling them, citizens who actually need emergency housing away from- idk- domestic abuse, there's people who were thrown out of homes, people who just chose to be homeless than to lose their sanity in an extremely negative environment. Okay, I'm self-inserting too much.

I know.

Anyway. Danielle doesn't get thrown out. I truly hope. And I have evidence of HDC refusing to investigate the possibility of an easily investigable crime. I have circumstantial proof that what I was told, I was told. HDC's co-operation with the underworld-

Google that.

The word underworld.

See what it says.

Anyway.

It's very obvious.

Anyway.

Win-Win.

I slung all the stones.

I'm all out of dogs.

But I'm never out of stones.

Anyway.

I'm mad because The First Man. Adam. Is the result of the original story of Adam and Eve. Where now, men don't listen to their wives, or any woman in their life matter of fact. Because Eve + Apple= Woman = Don't listen to her bro.

Anyway. That's besides the point. I can't stand it here. Living with him. I've been studying his abusive patterns. It's an everyday occurrence. And he doesn't even know how to love-bomb properly. Came asking me if I wanted eggs this morning. I told him I didn't feel hungry today. I'm still shaken up about him attempting to manipulate and gaslight me into thinking I wanted to go back to St. Anns. Especially with him lying about travelling to another country when he knew he wasn't gonna. He blamed that on me. Saying he couldn't just leave me here (at his house) by myself. He kept preaching hail over highwater about me having to find a place to stay. I thought okay. So I messaged him on WhatsApp about when he planned to leave and instead of replying, he called me to give me a date. Sometime in what was late September 2022. That's all I needed to know to call bullshit.

Otherwise. Today I was able to get stuff done thanks to the Risperidone Dr. Edmund prescribed me.

I immediately got put on Risperidone after finishing rounds of Zoloft, Seroquel and Dogmatil, in that order, and the latter being the last thing I was on. For a short while. I hate it by itself. Did not work for me. But I found a whole card left when I thought I was out of it:

I was glad actually. Having found a remainder to wean off the Dogmatil properly while amping up on Risperidone. I wonder why that's not practiced otherwise. Even if a course lasts only for a short time period. Weaning should still be done if you ask me. Anyway. I heard it's good for ADHD too, the Risperidone, and it is. I'm obsessed with completing tasks.

I even made the time to make some eggshell powder. For spiritual protection:

It came out great for going in the blender instead of a coffee grinder or mortar and pestle. And yeah, I do that. The whole spiritual protection thing.

I have a theory for another time.

Anyway.

I made what I call pan-egg with what was inside those eggshells. It looks exactly like a pancake but isn't:

It's eggs, milk, and coconut milk, with grated cheese. Fried just as you would a pancake:

To me, it tastes like a flavourful coconut sausage. That's the best I can describe it.

I'd finished updating my Destiny Board, which I sometimes call a Vision Board, Victory Board or Future Board:

I did this before the Risperidone. But I'm glad I finally got it done after literally having the cutouts and board on Adam's old T.V. for months. On the back of some, I'd written Grabovoi codes here and there. I gave each a Godspeed for my petitions.

Anyway. Therapy at Pembroke Street's Mental Health and Wellness Centre still sucks. They still don't have the Concerta I need. Called St Ann's last week. None of the governmental pharmacies have.

I think it's safe to say I'm not a fan of Dr. Edmund. as I'm not of Dr. Hamblet. Or Oscar Hughes. Oscar Hughes is.... I dunno what he does at the Wellness Centre. I'm still uncomfortable seeing him when I do. No matter how seldom it seems. I was looking for advice on whether or not it was a good idea to fuck Jason. As a consenting 24-year-old. I'm embarrassed I indulged in what was his description of a vagina wanting to grip it's.... The penis inside of it. I had responded that I don't need to grip. Not sexually though. Picture me saying that with a straight face. I honestly just wanted to correct him. But in response to that I could see some of his animalistic urges sweep across his face. With a slight jolt forward, then backward. Like he got tased a little.

I remember looking up at the clock behind him and the really skinny nurse who, as with Dr. Hamblet, asks me if I hear voices. I saw it was getting late. I needed to head to the bank before it closed. I remember leaving the conversation feeling confused. And angry. I got held back from going to the bank earlier for nothing. All they did was made having sex seem like it makes me "less valuable" as a "woman". You know, all that Bible bullshit.

Well, the real spoiler alert. Couldn't fuck either way. Jason has a girlfriend and yes, I had to ask.

Same with Steve. But he has a wife. Steve came after Jason. He also came with 32 senior years of which I did not but did not mind:

I got annoyed thinking Steve would at the very least. Knowing better as an older man n' all. But nope. Being older just means you have a wife instead of.

10:42 pm

I was pleasantly surprised to see kiwifarms.net up and running after The Verge reported the website's complete removal from the internet a couple of weeks ago:

Source: https://www.theverge.com/2022/9/7/23341051/kiwi-farms-internet-archive-backup-removal