Update (2/8/1972): the ‘wind’ inquired, and yes I can verify it did look like an adult woman by the name “Crisara” mugged me at Mar A Lago in the 1970s, or what looked like Mar A Largo and there was a large group of people from California attending. I may have been mugged by others there also with the excuse they were afraid to mug the adults. It really surprised me, because I may have been aware of others–working adults in various places already as false surrogates. I was secure in my self as a small person, and youth in the equation with the adults I was meeting with. At the time, I just looked like a youth that didn’t belong in adult places anyway! However, those muggings must have stuck, especially when at important places with a lot of witnesses. KEEP IN MIND, I GOT MUGGED at the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion before I was a teenager, maybe before a pre-teen. My back and neck were broken before I was 10 years old. I’ve had all kinds of experiences in my youth telling me “OTHER ME PEOPLE ARE WORKING SOMEWHERE ELSE” including HAND SHAKES–no mugging involved. It surprised me that people kept coming back to me “to mug” instead of mugging a migrant who had already worked and was returning home soon anyway.
Original post text:
In front of so many important people I’ve lost count. I have NOT KNOWN those people all these years by email or in person either. I was NOT ASKED to “study something” in preparation for THESE DAYS. So I do not understand what this is now. I am so dead, and I don’t feel good. I’m actually ill. It is obvious I’ve been made “lame” so I am not ACTIVE nor ACTIVATED for in person, in public visiting with peoples. I actually do get tired writing here.
AND ONE MORE THING!!! If you thought of me as a pilot, I was killed before I was 15 years old. I do NOT, repeat… DO NOT… have all the same brain cells. I had a lot more a long time ago. Writing non-fiction is not creating and problem solving.
And… Had a memory in recent day or so. I did visit Mar A Lago with a group. I did not get to sit down and enjoy a lunch with them. I got mugged. Not joking. I was badly attacked. I’m not certain why I was there for that, but it happened in a dining room. I simply should not have been there. I should have already been at home. I guess “social time” it was not. Doubt that I was a teenager yet. “A borrowed youth.”