Imaginen una hermosa mesa puesta en una playa, con toda la mantelería de una mesa de fiesta, color sacramental family orange, con todos los splashes de colores sobre una hermosa tela color flamming Holy Spirit. En esa mesa no están visiblemente todos los que deben estar, pues la Sagrada Familia del Nuevo Albor está ya en el Cielo, pero si está Mikhael, y todo lleno de estrellas de nueva fraternidad y estrellas del Cielo, celebrando con acción de gracias cada vez que hemos elegido crear comunión y decir sí a la nueva vida que resplandece en comunión.

El cielo sigue siendo un hermoso amanecer, lleno de colores vivos, con la luna llena en lo más alto y el sol también, un hermoso sol naciente.

Celebramos juntos (también está el sacerdote de cara de niño que sigue guiándome en medio de este caminar como Él camina) el poder elegir el Amor sobre el odio, el poder elegir la comunión sobre los psycho-social control tactics, el poder elegir el Sí Quiero a Dios Amor una y otra vez, incluso mientras el cuerpo evidentemente languidece y va muriendo poco a poco por la tortura, cada vez con menos libertad para sencillamente existir humanamente. La humanidad sigue decreciendo alrededor, más y más, con el pleno y total aval de las autoridades que también colaboran con los social control tactics.

Mientras escribo esto, los hermanos vecinos del hate house suben reguetón. Les gusta dejarme saber que tienen hackeados todos mis devices y que leen y analizan TODO lo que pienso y escribo. No hay espacio de libertad en este infierno…

Pero mis sueños son literalmente otro tipo de espacio, otro tipo de aire. Literalmente. En el sueño de anoche solo hubo un hermoso acción de gracias. Mi padre espiritual me preguntó si tenía memoria de algún día de acción de gracias que hubiera celebrado en familia. La verdad es que no, no de esa forma. Es decir: todos los días de acción de gracias los he celebrado con toda la familia extendida, nunca ha sido una mesa bien puesta con la familia más cercana, celebrando ser familia sacramental, unida por vínculos que no son de sangre sino de Espíritu vivo. No, le sonreí al responder, nunca he celebrado una comida de acción de gracias así. Curiosamente, una de las cosas que comimos fue lovefull mash, hecho de batata mameya… y más adelante, al despertar, los hermanos progenitores tendrían unas batata chips en el primer piso. Nope, ellos nunca comen batata chips, solo lo hacen por imitar mis gustos. Tanto las autoridades, via digital media, como los progenitores, via psysical environment y también via hacking, están recrudeciendo cada cual en su trinchera los psycho-social control tactics, sin que nadie ejerza estado de derecho como corresponde, porque las mismas autoridades actúan como los terroristas…

pero en el sueño sencillamente celebramos el elegir crecer en comunión, incluso si esa comunión solo puede darse, por circunstancias bien extraordinarias fuera de mi absoluto control, directamente con el Cielo. Quiero decir: usualmente se crece en comunión con hermanos. Ese no es mi caso. En la tierra no tengo hermanos con qué caminar. Todos están muy ocupados intentando controlar la realidad, cada cual por su lado, cuidando el self-image, proyectando falsas realidades… Mis compañeros de camino están en el Cielo, y realmente ya no tengo nada que me ate a esta tierra que no sea sencillamente la voluntad del Dios que literalmente me sigue manteniendo con vida en medio de todo tipo de torturas, crueldades y odios, tanto del lado de los terroristas legales como del lado de los terroristas ilegales.

Yep, soy plenamente consciente de que debería estar muerta hace rato, de que fisiológicamente y psicosocialmente es imposible que esté viva, tanto por lo crudo de la tortura biológica [toxic gassing] como por lo crudo de la tortura psicosocial que se ha ejercido en mi contra, por ambos lados de esta guerra no-declarada públicamente, pero en la que se atenta y se mata —biológica y psicosocialmente— impunemente por ambos bandos. Solo me mantiene viva, y de forma bien extraordinaria, mi dimensión ontológica: ni mi dimensión social ni mi dimensión orgánica debieron sobrevivir todo lo que he sobrevivido a lo largo de estos años. I know. We know.

I know I will eventually die, but I won’t control it. It is not my duty to control God’s Love or to control anyone else. My duty is to remain faithful to His Heart, to keep helping Him grow until my last breath. I am beautifully conscious of my identity as living Eucharist in unity to His Heart, and this alliance is unbreakable. It is even biological, I had been told we share DNA “in the psycho-social dimension”… That means, the integractor is the DNA…

So, we celebrate the beautiful communion that glows in our dreams, the only place this new dawn can shine upon me. Hace tiempo que no puedo ver un amanecer, sea porque estoy en el trabajo o sea porque tengo que estar encerrada en el cuarto de la casa de torturas para no toparme con mis progenitores-torturadores biológicos y sociales.

Como diría My Sister Keeper: planned or not, here I am… here still I am. Wanted or not, here still I am.

Biologically, I am a non-human, being denied every human right, including the right to life, because I am constantly being gassed, Auschwitz style. The toxic gassing had been lethal. I am miraculously alive.

Psychosocially, I am a non-citizen, I do not belong to the “we, the people”, because the constitutional rights are not applied to me and I am not allowed to belong to society as an equal citizen… The psychosocial torture had also being lethal, specially in the sense of the denial of the psycho-social self and the constant denial of my emotions that my progenitors had ejerced through my life. Once again, I am miraculously alive, raised by a Holy Family instead of the hateful family I was forced to remain with by the authorities who also have tortured me lethally in the psychosocial sense, with all kind of psycho-social control tactics and the constant denial of basic citizenship rights. Once again, I have miraculously survived.

Onthologically, I am mother of Jesus Charity, ni mas, ni menos. Fiat mihi secundum caritatis tuam, My Lord and my All. I am because You Are in me. I am who You are in Me: living Eucharist. Our Love is stronger than anything. The bond of our growing-together-in-communion is unbreakable.

So, we celebrate with a thanksgiving feast this communion growth that is an everlasting journey, un hermoso revestirse de un vestido color familia sacramental y también de familia humana. No habrá tortura, ni odio, ni culto a la muerte, que nos pueda expoliar de este crecimiento en comunión que sigue creciendo y resplandeciendo más y más dentro del corazón. De hecho, mientras escribo estas palabras estoy siendo torturada con toxic gassing que causa tener constantes ganas de hacer pee. Ya me forzaron a defecar hace dos horas, y también me pincharon un nervio en la pierna derecha, lo que se alivió tomando decadrón.

Still, here I am, beautifully clothed as the sacramental mother I am called to be, breathing the air that the Holy Spirit grants me to live in Him, for Him and with Him, embracing in my heart the reality where I do belong: a growing-together-in-communion Thanksgiving feast.

I just went to pee, about the fourth time since I woke up about two hours and a half ago. The pee is completely transparent, a clear sign of being tortured by toxic gassing. At the same time, the progenitors get out of their room exactly as I get into mine from the bathroom, another very common psychosocial control tactic, insisting in demonstrate, demonically, how they keep “living” as if the torture they are doing is not happening at all, denying my very right to exist in every way they can.

Of course, psychosocially, this can only happen because the authorities have allowed it for my whole life, the last decade being quite publicly allowed. The torture is always from both sides of this non-told but widely publicly known terror war.

Nowhere before history humanity have seen such attempts to control someone as it has been done with me, by both sides.

I am very conscious of my body being currently controlled and slaved physiologically, causing me to go to pee, to go to poo, to have pain and pinched nerves, just to mention what its being done right now, because the list of torture-caused effects in my body through my life is quite, quite, quite long, from vomits to tachycardia, from diarrea to cefalea, almost anything can be caused to my body by toxic gassing bioterrorism tactics. The fact I have no cancer right now is a HUGE miracle done through the intercession of Charlie and my family of Heaven.

I am also very conscious of being currently slaved and controlled by all kinds of psychosocial control tactics, especially from the government side. What had happened and still is happening in all the jobs I had been is, simply told in very short words, social slavery. What is happening in all the social media I am using and had used is… simply told in short words, social trafficking.

So, I am being currently slaved both biologically and socially. My body is a slave of the effects that are being caused by toxic gassing, and I am also a social slave…

My ontological nature remains as the living testimony of the power of God-Love-with-us that can make all things anew.

I went to the bathroom to pee less than ten minutes ago, and I am already feeling urges to go to pee again. The progenitors do this every time I focus in write and in create and in choosing love and communion instead of reacting to their hate.

I am beautifully conscious, and also humbly conscious, of my mission as His “sociological mother”: to help to grow in communion as the brothers and sisters He means humanity to be. I say “sociological mother” because I am helping Him to be, to do, to grow, to glow and to bloom in this very sociological context of history, the same way Mary did when she helped Him to be born biologically more than 2,000 years ago. We all can embrace that mission, as we let Him convert us through His flamming Holy Spirit in the living sacraments of God-Love we are called to be, in the living icons of God-Love we are called to be.

Yes, I am being conscious of how I am being tortured and slaved, over and over again, by both legal and illegal terrorists… but I am also humbly conscious of the royal dignity I had been bestowed ontologically by Him Himself, noneless…

This is my existence right now: a beautiful dream thar grows inside me, intertwined by all kind of tortures as soon as I wake up, and some times even while I sleep. Yes, my biological and sociological existences are a 24-hour torture… but ontologically, the story is quite, quite, quite different…

Right now it is the third time in an hour that I need to go to pee… and you can smell the coffee my progenitors are drinking as if nothing is happening here, while I need to wake up at four am simply to being able to eat and drink coffee praying the rosary without them interrumpting…

Exactly as I get out of the bathroom, the male progenitor gets out of the room (they are really fond of the social control tactic of getting out of the room as I get out of the bathroom). Como siempre que está ostentando poder social, se pone a carraspear como orangután al salir del cuarto. De verdad, no miento, es tan exagerado que suena como orangután. A la misma vez que voy saliendo del baño, me pongo a tararear para no entender lo que se pone a decir a toda boca, pero en tono bien casual, como si mo fuera fabricado, pero se sabe perfectamente que es fabricado… y como estoy tarareando, no entiendo nada de lo que dice a la progenitora en la cocina. Sencillamente le sonrío a Princesa al entrar al cuarto, la muevo un poco porque se puso en mi lugar de la cama, y escribo lo que acaba de pasar en el iPad que se sabe que está siendo hackeado por ellos y también por las autoridades. No hay derecho alguno a la privacidad, ni tampoco a la libertad de expresión. Todo cuanto pienses, escribas y expreses será controlado y si les da la gana, también censurado, haciendo fallar el device para que no pueda compartir lo que estoy expresando (hacen sonar ruidos de muebles al escribir eso, otro social control tactic muy común de los progenitores, hacer ruidos exagerados en momentos bien determinados).

As I said: fiat mihi secundum caritatis Tuam… hágase en este corazón, Amado, según Tu Corazón… [Beso nuestra alianza de la caridad de la misma forma que lo hace Mikhael en Su nombre en cada sueño…] hágase, Amado, según Tu alianza… yo no soy indispensable en esta historia de Amor, Tú lo eres. No importa qué pase conmigo, Tú reinarás… toda la Sagrada Familia del Nuevo Albor y toda esta familia del Cielo somos Tus amoreros. ¡Que viva Cristo Amor en mí, que reine en mi corazón unido al Suyo! Soy Suya, y eso no cambiará jamás, porque mi corazón ha sido sellado por Su alianza.

Está lloviendo dulcemente más y más gracia que cae de forma incondicional…

Cada latido de mi corazón vuelve a repetirlo: Fiat mihi secundum caritatis Tuam… hágase en nosotros según Tu crecimiento en comunión… como el hermoso sunflower field de nuestros sueños, hágase en nosotros según Tu Eucaristía viva que late en nosotros, Dios Amor vivo y encarnado…

Vuelvo a sentir ganas de hacer pee, a menos de diez minutos de haber hecho pee… ya sería el quinto pee en un lapso de hora y media, tienen el toxic gassing al máximo… a la misma vez que siguen desayunando glotonamente, como el rey al que le chorrea la sangre por la boca mientras come a la misma vez que envía a su hijo a la muerte en Lord of the Rings III, mientras Pippin canta llorando… comen exactamente con esa misma indiferencia emocional…

Comienza a llover más fuerte, más y más gracia que cae de forma incondicional…

Vuelvo a besar mi alianza de la caridad con profunda humildad y asombro ante el hermoso misterio de la Trinidad-con-nosotros que se sigue manifestando más y más resplandecientemente: Fiat mihi secundum caritatis tuam… soy la servidora del Señor, hágase en mi corazón según Su caridad…

Voy al baño a hacer pee una sexta vez en mas o menos hora y media… mientras tanto, en la casa un camión trae una entrega de arena. El hermano progenitor se puso a hablar debajo de la ventana. El perro vino asustado donde mí, porque se pusieron a hacer todo tipo de ruidos furiosos en el primer piso.

Its narcissistic rage.

En todo momento podemos elegir en el corazón crear hogar conforme al plan de Dios, dejarnos modelar por el Espíritu Santo como la custodia viva de Su Eucaristía viva que somos llamados a ser. En cada momento cotidiano podemos decir “hágase en nosotros según Tu Caridad” y seguir formándonos como la ermita de luz que somos llamados a ser para custodiar Su crecimiento en comunión en medio del mundo, transformando toda oscuridad y todo culto a la muerte en luz, y siendo conscientes de que no lo hacemos por las propias fuerzas, sino por pura gracia. Todo, absolutamente todo, es pura gracia. No merezco lo que recibo, pero lo agradezco, porque sin Jesús Caridad no podría siquiera ser. Soy quien soy en Él, por Él y con Él.

En cada momento cotidiano podemos unirnos a Su ofrendar el Corazón, y al ser un solo Corazón con Él, una sola ofrenda con Él, resplandecer como el don del Espíritu Santo que somos llamados a ser: hágase en nosotros según Tu Caridad… hágase en nosotros según Tu consagración a vivir esta nueva fraternidad creando más y más Cielo, creando más y más Eucaristía, creando más y más crecimiento en comunión, pues incluso en medio de sombras de odio y culto a la muerte no deja de resplandecer la inmensa luz de la Trinidad-con-nosotros que sigue creando hogar en esta tierra, que sigue creando comunión viva en esta tierra en la medida en que seguimos respondiendo fiat a la gracia y el poder del flamming Holy Spirit…

Algún día se entenderá que no hay social-control tactic, sea de quien sea —ambos bandos las usan— que pueda contra el poder del Espíritu Santo que no deja de irradiar la luz de la verdad y el resplandor de la fraternidad que viene de Su Corazón…m

Vuelvo a besar Mi alianza: fiat Mihi secundum verbum Tuum… that is the best domestic legacy I can pass on to my domestic church, becoming together the living sanctuary of the Divine Love we are meant to be in Him, for Him and with Him. This is how it has truly being done since the beginnings of Christianism: radiating the peace of His Heart, one home at a time, until becoming together the new Civilization of Love we are called to become.♥️

That is what the family evangelization project is all about, even if only me, along the Holy Family of New Albor, can embrace it for now.

It will be better understood in another moment of history, where there is less truth denialism and more living faith.

Mikhael asked me to integrate in the Thanksgiving fest significative foods of the day. There were two: te Terra Chips and the pizza (today is pizza day). As a matter of fact, the next day we had a whole thanksgiving feast of pizzas! 🙂

Sigamos haciendo vida el orden de la caridad dejándonos transconsagrar más y más el corazón en la Eucaristía viva que somos llamados a ser, para así caminar como el pueblo-familia del nuevo albor que somos llamados a ser, irradiando más y más el esplendor de la verdad con más y más nueva era de nueva fraternidad…

Let’s keep growing together in communion… 🌻

At last night’s dream I received a beautiful spiritual motherhood bouquet (12 sunflowers with the baderas luz wrapped on sacramental family paper) besides a crown of sunflowers… and a domestic cuy, not given exactly by Mikhael… He gave it to my spiritual father, and my spiritual father gave it to me in the name of Jesus Charity. That is how it is meant to be given the domestic cuy: from father to son/daughter. all the stars glimpsed in heaven. I do know: I have a beautiful family in heaven.

After receiving the communion and adoring the Eucharist I was explained that the domestic cuy was a beautiful vocation to be domestic shepperd. I have talked about this before, so I won’t tell now exactly what we talked last night… but it was a very beautiful conversation about out lasting freedoms. No matter what, I will always have in my heart a domestic altar where I can consecrate myself to charity over and over again, the same way I am called to consecrate my home to live charity and my nation to lice charity. I mean, when I have a home a nation to call my own… but meanwhile, I have this beautiful domestic altar in the heart, where I left my bouquet and my flower crown as an offering… because we are all a beautiful gift of Heaven, a gift that incarnates His memory, even if you have no memories of your own sometimes: make everything in memory of Him.

When we talked about our lasting freedoms, you need the context of what I currently have no right to do. The list is not short at all. The list of the rights that are being denied right now to me is very, very long, and I have all the right to say what is not right to do.

I have no right to eat what I want (food can dissapear, or I may not be able to afford it).

I have no right to eat when I want (if progenitors are out the room, I cant eat).

I have no right to drink what I want (the drinks can dissapear, or I may not able to afford it).

I have no right to drink cold drinks when I want (if progenitors are out of the room, I can’t go out to the fridge).

I have no right to wear what I want (progenitors mutilate the clothes and shoes I like more).

I have no right to organize stuff the way I want (progenitors are constantly “reorganizing” my stuff).

I have no right to cook when I want (if progenitors are in the house, I can’t eat).

I have no right to go out when I want (I need to tell them when I am going out, and they may or not may give the gasoline to get out).

I have no right to receive medical services/mental health services when I want and how I truly need them (both SIM and INSPIRA, and even RCM and APS in the past, manipulates the medical service to cover up the abuse. I had been denied systematically labs and psychologists, and given forced medications I don’t need… and at the same time I had been denied treatment for the ADD I do have).

I have no right to go to style my hair and nails when I want (I may or not may be able to afford ir or to find a place where receive the services).

I have no right to take the dogs to the beach (I don’t have car for leisure activities, only to go to job and needs, now wants).

I have no right to take the dogs to the vet and have them healthy (even when the progenitors actually give money to the vet, they also cause the diseases in the dogs, on purpose).

I have no right to communicate (I can’t communicate at all. All social aspects of my life are a transaction. Everything around me is fabricated according to agendas. I can only communicate with the dogs and with mentally disabled persons, the only ones who do not fake).

I have no right to privacy (everything I do, write-think or say is analyzed, seen and monitored. The privacy in my life had always been zero).

I have no right to share when I want to and how I want to (all my devices are hacked/monitored and can’t be dissabilitated at any moment, by hackers that had been doing the same for years).

I have no right to breathe oxygen/pure air (I had been tortured consistenly with toxic air for years, including known cancerigens, and the torture is still ongoing thanks to authorities that doesn’t tell the truth).

I have no right to water (I have to bathe once in a week because is what the progenitors allow me to bathe. I technically don’t have bath of my own because it is not safe. I don’t have regular access to water to clean my clothes. I havent drank water regularly for years because they gave a burning throat water bottle and since then I had fobia to bottled water. Tap water is proven unsafe if not boiled).

I have no right to a legal work with professional and ethical work environment (I had been consistently tortured and exploited in all the works I had been, including the present work. The authorities know it and back it up. The church knows it and back it up).

I have no right to a social life (all the interactions around me are fabricated. I cant connect with no one nor have a life in communion with no one. I am a social object to be lied and exploited, thats it).

I don’t have a right to cultural life nor to an artistic life (everythin I share and develop culturally is manipulated and even sabotaged. None of my work of arts are safe. Some had been stolen. Some had been sabotaged, especially with fungus. Some had been lost or broken or simply thrown away. I can’t be an artist when my materials are stolen and my works are sabotaged).

I don’t have a right to a spititual life (I can’t pray, not even dreaming, without being mimicked and abused, and even tortured, due my spiritual choices. I can’t go to a parish nor work in a catholic school without being harassed and tortured. Even the Archbishop covers up the abuses in the parishes. The Eucharist and homilies had been used for harassment too).

I don’t have a right to intellectual life (my books are stolen or manipulated, my access to WordPress or Microsoft Office depends in if I have the money to get them or not, my writings are stolen or deleted, even if I write by hand. The texts I write on computer are sabotaged with grammar mistakes, if I actually am granted to use a computer or a device to write. I can’t organice thoughts or systems because the intellectual development is delivetately sabotaged).

I don’t have right to personal space (all the places I am are being monitored for exploting and torture purposes. I don’t have a home or a place to call my own).

I don’t have right to private property (My progenitors can move and throw or even steal my stuff at any moment. They pick my stuff to use them for their exploitate purposes. Anything that “belongs” to me can dissapear at any moment, and that includes devices, they stole an iPad).

I don’t have right to financial control (My progenitors can cause at any monent any financial need. For example: if they cause a dog to get sick, I need to have money for that, if they decide to leave me without car I need to have money for that, if they mutilate my clothes I need to buy new clothes, if they cause me with the toxic gassing to need labs I need to have money for that. They have ten thousand ways to control me financially. They monitor my bank accounts when they monitor my devices).

I don’t have a right to independent life (I had been given jobs so underpaid I need my progenitor’s support to merely survive. I had never been given a job paid well enough to have my own appartment, where I couldn’t be tortured. The jobs where I had been as teacher always required a huge investment to actually being able to teach in my style or to even have basic materials to teach).

I don’t have right to access to technology (There were time I was so deprived of resources I didn’t had a computer or access to internet at all. When I do have devices, they are always hacked. Always. What I do in my devices had been monitored my whole life. What I do in my devices is used for psychological exploitation purposes. Even the autorities also show they also know what I do in my devices. The printers had also been hacked so much that the norm is me being printer deprived).

I don’t have basic consumer rights (even Amazon manipulates my search results for psychosocial exploitation purposes. The ads are used for psycosocial exploitation too. Brands play mind games with their ads. If I need to return something I may not be able to do it for the circumstances of the abuse. There were years in which what I bought depended totally on the very limited budget the progenitors gave me. When I buy from eBay I may have packages that are manipulated or if I buy from Amazon packages may be stolen).

I don’t have the right to have my mail delivered (My packages can be returned without my consent. They can also be stolen by my progenitors. I can’t receive mail that is safely given to me).

I don’t have the right to have personal documents (My progenitors have stolen my wallet while sleeping. They have also stolen my medical card. They have also stolen my passport).

I don’t have the right to travel freely (My progenitors stole my passport. I can’t get a new passport without the old one).

I don’t have the right to have personal phone calls (All my phone calls are monitored, by both sides).

I don’t have the right to sleep (My sleep can be deprived in several ways, from loud noises to toxic gassing that causes insomnia, to causing me needing to pee every hour, so I need to wake up to go to pee).

I don’t have the right to legal personhood (My progenitors took by force my legal personhood. I received forced psychiatric treatements based in their lies and tortures, not based in my wellbeing and dignity. I was deprived of every basic sense of humanity while on those treatments).

I don’t have the right to own my body (My progenitors and also my bosses can cause at any moment physiological effects of torture that make me unable to own my body: I bleed when they chose to, I defecate when they chose to, I pee when they chose to, I breathe what they allow me to breath, I eat and drink what they allow me to digest without being vomited, or may be the nausea won’t allow me to ingest anything, I can have attention and memory when they chose to, I can have access to medical attention when the authorities chose to, I can have access to vitamins and supplement if I have the money to afford it, I eat and drink what I am allowed to, I may be caused infections and fungus, especially nail fungus, at any moment, I can remain conscious if they allow it, I can function with a regular heartbeat if they allow it, I can actually walk and smile physically if they allow it, I can think without mood swings if they allow it… my body is controled by torture in ten thousands of ways, it had been so during years and authorities have allowed it on purpuse. The use of torture is also bioterrorism).

I don’t have right to equal protection of the law (The progenitors hace used law 408 to deny my personhood, but I can’t go to cours to defend myself, either from the progenitors nor from the authorities whose negligence is responsible of what is happening here. When I told the free lawyers I was given I was being abused, they told me to take my medicines).

I don’t have right to psychological integrity (Both authorities and progenitors are SO EXTREME in the psychological mind games, narcissistic moves and psychosocial control tactics, including use of toxic positivism, that their constant psychological abuse can be called psychoterrorism. Both authorities and progenitors are psychologically abusive. I can’t go to courts to protect mysef, I am forced to exist as a constant victim of psychological abuse and torture, without never being able to be in a place where I am psychologically safe. If I am at the house of tortured, I will be psychologically abused. If I am in stores, I will be psychologically abused, like being in Costco and having fabricated conversations around me, or being in Walmart and having people with tshirt with toxic possitivity, or even being in the doctor and being toxic gassed precisely in the place I should get medical attention. If I am transtitioning between one place and another, I will be harassaed with broken brake light. In my works I am also psychosocially harassed. I can’t present evidence to any court. I can’t defend myself. Once again, I am forced to exist dehumanized, as a victim of abuse).

I don’t have the right to freedom of information (the information I look in Google is manipulated with ads that are targeted to me for exploitation. When I use social media the posts are manipulated to, in Instagram, in Twitter, in Instagram, in Facebook, in Pinterest, even in Whats App. Notifications in my devices sometimes have to be deactivated because they are played with. Amazon also plays with the search results. I am not allowed to take these social media companies to court to defend myself from their social harrassment, especially with content manipulated with two periods. Either I stop to use the social media for not being harassed, or I must endure forced harassment I have no other choice than to use the social media. There are post that clearly are AI created to manipulate reality).

I don’t have the right to my own reality (Wherever I am, I am forced to “fit” the reality of my abusers. Example: if I am at the house of tortures, I must go to take psychiatric medicines in front of my progenitors, simply due their enjoyment of controling me, because right now there is no legal obligation to do so. At one moment my progenitors actually told me what to say to the psychiatrist about how I feel, I was not even allowed to feel by my own. In the work I know they are social trafficking me and abusing me, but I can’t tell so nor defend me in courts: I must let then abuse me and only tell whatever fits their reality. So on, so on, no matter where I am, I must fit my abuser’s reality, I am not allowed to live according to the truth).

I don’t have right to safety (wherever I am, whatever I do, I am a constant victim of hate crimes, by both my political views and my religious life, or even simple for being me. The progenitors use of covert psychological agression and violence is constant, but it can happen and do happen outside the house of tortures too. I am never safe, not even sleeping).

-I have no right of freedom of movement (wherever I go, I will monitored and even followed. It had happened that the same car appear several times, either in front or in the back of the car I am using).

I have no right to self-care and have a good image (the progenitors can cause image problems at any moment. They can sabotage and steal make up. They can cause my face look full of “psoriatic” flares that are caused due the toxic gassing. They can cause with economic control tactics me being unable to afford going to cut my hair in more than a year. They can cause me being unable to wash my hair, so I am seen greasy. They have played with my face cleaning stuff, so I barely wash my face).

-I have no right to work from home or to have a work space at home (I just got from trash students work thar my progenitors threw away without my consent. They have taken student’s drawings or student’s tests. They have sabotaged my devices, including computers, so I am unable to do my work in the best way possible. In the case of STEG, ASTA and even AES, my own bosses sabotaged or controled what I did in my computer without notifying me, covertedly, in coordination with what was being done at home).

I have no right to hygiene (I may have money to get basic hygienic supplies or I may not. I may have things and alone space to clean, or I may not. My bed sheets are rarely washed, I never have alone time to do it. They have actually mutilated my bed sheets and my blankets/comforters. I may be allowed to clothe with my own clothes or I may be forced to use others if mine dissapear. I may be allowed to bath or not. I may have enough toothpaste to wash my teeth once or not. I may allowed to cook “safely” my food or not, they play with both the gas and the higyene of the food. I may be able to wash my clothes ot not. Where I wash my teeth is always filthy due a clogged pipe my progenitors clogged deliberately more than one year ago. They remodeled the whole bathroom I a way I am unable to use it. The water have fungus and the house is infested with roaches. Everything around me is highly unhygienic. They do play with basic hygienic stuff for their social exploitation purposes. Example: playing with the soap, buying a lavender soap when they have never done so before, doing it simply to mimick my use of lavender in the dreamed contemplative prayers).

I have no right to self-care or to have a good self-image or good self-steem (The progenitors can cause me seen with unclean/spotted clothes. They can cause my hair being greasy due not being able to wash it. They can cause the face being disfigured either with not being able to smile (asynchrony) or with “psoriatic” flares caused by toxic gassing. They have stolen or broken make up, when they actually bought me it. They have played with my face-washing stuff, so it is not safe to use the face soap, so I barely wash my face. They play psychological warfare constantly to belittle my self-image with emotional denialism (they deny my feelings constantly, deliberately, with abuse purposes. They are like a deformed mirror where my self-image is deformed by their narcissism and cruelty. They actually envy my good self-steem that comes from how much God loves me unconditionally, not like them, whose “love” depends on their convenience).

I have no right to love (My progenitors manipulate the meaning of “love” using it to their convenience. At some point the phrase “te amo” was used for social exploitation. Wherever I am, if I love someone, well, he or she will be exploited for exploiting me, or even tortured for torture me, and that includes pets, students and all kind of people, including minor age. I am not granted to even choose a couple by my own, the authorities are imposing Eduardo Verastegui as “love” when I am clearly saying he is not the person for me and he has actually known about the abuse and not told the truth, acting like a “hero” for consenting and allowing torture and hate crimes, besides allowing the social trafficking of minors. I am not interested in people who understand love as manipulation and truth denialism. I can’t choose to love no one, nor have a home and form a family where I am loved for who I am).

I have no right to have a memory of my own (You can understand this quite literally: the toxic gassing does affect my memory and attention, a lot… but there are also other memory factors involved. The progenitors have haved my iPhones, making them unable to connect to iCloud, so I have lost many photos and recordings and videos. I have lost many pictures in myself from albums. I have lost a lot of memory stuff I had from great milestones in my life, like medals and trophies and certificates. I have lost many diaries and intimate writings notebooks, they have stealed them. They have also stealed my very favorite books along the years. They have deleted texts from the Microsoft 365 iCloud, and they have destroyed handwritten poems faking that it was the dog who did it. Above all… the most effective memory destroyer is gaslighting. They gaslight over and over again in such a way that you know that even how they told you were born was fake. They also stole my pediatricians clinical history? which I requested to have to know the truth about my past, although it was highly inconplete, it mainly had growth charts, there was nothing about the many ear infections I had when child. You need to recheck your memory, already affected by toxic gassing, over and over again to be sure the memory that is there is not gaslighting).

I have no right to a human existance, with a home of my own and a family that IS a real family (The progenitors call and project themselves as “family” when they are torturers and narcisistic-sociopaths controlers of my existance. I have no freedom to have a human existance, with a home, a family, and being able to exist peacefully, without being constantly harassed and hated for being who I am).

This is what matters when enforcing agendas matters more than human dignity and rule of law, when “hacer que las cosas pasen” upon your convenience matters more than truth and true justice.

So… at the very end, even when you have so many rights denied… you will always be able to consecrate yourself to live charity, to consecrate you heart to help to grow in communion, to help to grow as the brothers and sisters we are called to be, to help to grow in the state of grace we are called to be, as the domestic Church we are called to be, overflowing with sacramental fraternity. Your heart if the home He, Jesus Charity, need to keep growing in this world (yes, through the Holy Spirit he is still growing)… and we are the living domestic shepperds called to consecrate our hands and heart in unity to His Heart to guide the spiritual family He gives us to joy, to plenitude, to sainthood.

That vocation is as fragant and beautiful as the lavender in the sacramental motherhood bouquet and crown. We have wings that these world can’t see nor destroy. Someday, when I am in heaven, I will have the first bodily intimacy moment in my life, and will be the most beautiful moment ever. Please, don’t understand “bodily intimacy” as “sexual intimacy”, it is even something more basic. My whole life I have been exploited and monitored without my consent, since baby. Even my sacramental confessions had been shared and monitored for exploitative purposes. Imagine the first moment ever I can share heart to heart with someone, in my body in my soul, like the Eucharist, and that moment could only be shared between the two of us. Whatever it can be, a conversation, a poem, a hug, whatever… it would be the first moment ever something is shared only with one another. My first phsysical togetherness moment. In my circumstances, that can only happen in heaven… but meanwhile, I have the lasting freedom of choosing to consecrate myself to live charity, over and over again. So, how did I consecrate to live charity today in my day?

Well, the day began with a contemplative idea about a for-social-profit-only bussiness. Yesterday I contemplated the idea of building all-inclusive bungalows somewhere in Puerto Rico, because we do have beautiful beaches (it can be a for-social-profits-only bussiness too). Today, after reading a news article about dog boxes in Apple News, we contemplated a bussiness called “SatoBox”, a dog box targeted to latino and bilingual homes, whose all profits would go to a sato sanctuary and helping the currently existing non-profits that rescue dogs in Puerto Rico. What happens with street dogs in Puerto Rico is truly a crisis that must be tackled.

Then I went to NUC university in Bayamón. I made a live to test the strenght of my arms. In the highway, in front of me, there was a car with an Apple sticker. That besides the two cars I already saw with broken lights during the live. As I said, no matter how hard is my pain, the social harrassment keeps going on and on. I will probably go heaven of a heart attack.

In NUC University I am scheduled to complete today a CPR course. Really, these courses should be taken in the schools. I am also curious to know how Narcan works. I have heard it can save many lives to know how to use it.

When I arrived to NUC School of Nursings I saw the vending machines and I searched in my purse to see if I got 1 dollar in coins for a drink, because I forgot to bring my Gatorade. I got 90 cents in my purse. A woman that is a maintenance employee gave me the other 10 cents. I NEVER ask for money to anyone outside the house of tortures, but this time I know I have to drink something. I got a Capri Sun juice, but it is for the snack time. Thank you, kind lady who took the money from her lunch box. I bought an Arizona with those 10 cents.

The CPR course I took was designed for medical personel, but I was allowed to remain. I was not asked to complete steps that required medical knowledge, but I did understood what my classmates, all nurses, were doing. The dolls they use for compressions make a click when you reach the required depth. I never imagined you require to go so deep. Its 2 inched, but those two inched inside the chest are like a sink hole. 😯

Here is me taking the course with the doll.

These kind of courses are to be learned with hands-on learning. Really, high schoolers should be required to learn this too. When I practiced the chocking manauver in children it took a lot of time to make the baby cry, but it finally cried.

After going to NUC University I went to a Costco to buy a small shopping of stuff that were mostly in special. Pn the way there was a moving truck. Along the years there had been many times where the false projection of me moving had been made placing moving trucks around me, like now. I had never been able to move, it had always has been a false projection.

This car was in front of me while entering to Costco. Look at the mimicking of the stickers, with colorful scenery and butterflies and all.

The only thing I didn’t found was the spiral ham, and it was because it was in a VERY good price and it was over when I came to the store.

This is what I bought:

Going to Costco requires its special measures after the last time I came, when two persons came by near the food court speaking about never knowing a person that “was going to buy a 1.5 million house in Dorado”. When social harrassment happens, there is always a pattern. That, with the ad game of “I love Dorado” in the highway, can be said is a pattern. Besides that, there was clear mimicking in the Facebook Page of Dorado. So I block the ways they can harass me deleting the Dorado Facebook page and using headphones in Costco, Only due this reason I don’t want to live in Dorado anymore. Anything that is connected to social harrassment in my life will be OUT of my life. Period. Social harrassment is always unaceptable, no matters from where it comes from. Period. So, while I write this, I am eating pizza in Costco in headphones. I had to move once because two woman began to speak too loud, and that always is a warning sign.

You don’t get it. Nobody gets it. Either the truth is being told straight forward, without mind games, without social harassment, without social control tactics, or it is against the rule of law what you are doing. I am not your social exploitation object, or your social marketing object: I am a human being that is being abused, and truth is being denied along justice. You are NO ONE to manipulate the information and videos in your Facebook page targeting me. You are NO ONE to control conversations around me. You are NO ONE to control the timing of the ads I see in digital billboards. Period. Social harrassment and social control tactics are WRONG, especially while you force the person to endure torture and the denial of the most basic freedom.

I always eat two pizzas in Costco, but today I can’t fit the two. Today I snacked a chobani yogurt around 10 am. Snacks matter.

When I was going out from the store I realized I lost my receipt to get out of the store. A couple approached me gently and told me they saw it fall, but I didn’t heard them calling me (due the headphones, that I had quite high, and even being had, I had to move once). I thanked them a lot, prayed grateful for their kindness and went put to the store, to Sams curbside.

At Sams curbside I have had bas experiences with the greetings of the employees, they tell you sometimes “lindo día”, stuff you know is social harrassment… but I can understand that such big stores can’t control what their rogue employees do. I simply am used to the social harassment, I know it is unavoidable to me being discriminated in the way I am being treated, because the authorities had allowed it for so long, without telling the truth, that I can only do nothing about it, until someones tell the truth.

Today, there was no prob in the curbside. This is what I bought in Sams. The shrimps are for lent, thar starts in Saint Valetine’s Day, or as I know it, as the Day of Jesus Charity, the feast of Divine Love and fraternity.

Next, I go to Office Max to print the return label for the Qlink cellphone I do not longer want. I don’t have printer of my own, thanks to the hacking of my devices (they always make the printers fail) so I need to go to the library or Office Max to print anything. Today is more convenient to go to Office Max. I need to wait a little bit because all the functioning copiers are busy. It happens. I simply hear music (Casting Crowns right now). I waited less than 3 minutes. 😁

When I get out Office Max there is another car with broken lights. In total, since the morning, is the sixth car with broken lights around me. That without counting the cars with stickers that are clearly mimicking.

Next stop: Marshalls, to see candles. I have a 15 dollars budget. I need a big candle. Some precautions need to be made when you go to Marshalls. Because you never know if you are going to have a cart or not, and I lost an iPad that way (due not having a cart to put the stuff I was going to buy I left the iPad behind) the iPad must be left at the car when I go to Marshalls. Also, when I am going to park the car, I must do it in a zone where I don’t crash anyone due the traffic.

Here we go, in high traffic hour. As a matter pf fact the traffic is horrible, and while I walk to Marshalls, because I don’t have the headphones, someone yells in a very exagerated voice in a car “hola, mi amor” (another very common social control tactic around me is using the word “amor”).

Other thing that is very commonly done around me is placing people with difficulties walking around me. Here it is, this time a person with a walker besides a dog, while I was walking to Marshalls.

All these social control tactics had been upheld for years. I already know them. As a matter of fact, in Marshalls I must put music in speaker of the iPhone (I dont have headphones for the iPhone yet) because someone is speaking in her cellphone and I don’t want to hear her conversation. That is a VERY common move around me, fake conversations in the phones or between people. But I can’t risk to loose another iPad in Marshalls (I only have headphones for the iPad).

In Marshallls I loved that chest, but I only have budget for 15 dollars. I find a lovely big lavender candle for 14.99 🙂.

Here are the stuff I liked and what I choose to buy.

This is another store where I have had problems with cashiers and employees telling you “lindo día”, even by speakers while you are in the store, while making the announcements in the megaphone. Once again, I can’t avoid that kind of social harrassment that I know it is clearly targeted to me. I simply keep going, knowing that until the truth is being told, I am a social slave without any kind of rights.

The women doesn’t stop talking in the phone during the whole Marshalls line, that was quite long. I had to place myself against a beverages cooler to not hearing her clearly higher voice.

When I arrive to the cashier, the candle has two prices: 14.99 and 19.99 and they cash me 19.99. 23.00 in total.

Here are the pics of both prices. I only saw the upper one. I could never imagined it would have two prices.

That is a scam, but I don’t have time to make the line again. The cashier calls me “corazón”. That is another social harrassment tactic around me: calling me “corazón”. Even the progenitors do it.

I overspend 9.00 dollars. They did the move on purpose. That is what you risk to endure when you are a social slave. I know very well the manager who told me the price was 19.99. She was the one who told me “amor” when I lost my iPad due lack of carts.

Great. Now I need to check if stuff I get has two prices. That is a new move in the social harrasment repertoire of moves. I usually look among the candles that are in special first, but this time there were no candles in special at all.

When I get put of the mall where Marshalls is (Rio Hondo) this car is in front of me. The taino stickers are also a social harrassment sign around me. I am not interested in read what the heart says.

I am a little bit late for my Walmart curbside. I should had been there at 3, it is 3:30 and I am still at Rio Hondo.

The highway is unusually fast for the time (is high traffic hour) and I arrive at Walmart only ten minutes later.

At Walmart there had also been employees that greet you with “corazón” and “lindo día” too. I simply must tolerate the disrespect because the authorities simply deny the truth of what is happening for impossing their agenda.

The Walmart curbside has several things for a girl of the work whose birthday is this Sunday. It is SO beautiful to give amazing gifts to amazing people. She is may he the only girl I am absolutely sure she knows abouts what is happening with me… but at the same time she has many things happenning in her life and she always do the best she can, and I admire her for that, even if she sometimes remain silent.

The Walmart curbside employee arrives. He calls me “amor”. Once again, I must tolerate the disrespect.

This is the last thing I need to do before heading to the house of torture to sleep from 5 to 9 and prepare for tonight’s shift. When I am changing sleeping patterns (I am changing from a nightime sleeping pattern to a daytime sleeping pattern) I use benadryl to change the pattern. The benadryl may work or may not work, depending on the toxic gassing of the room. Yes, sometimes benadryl works, sometimes it doesn’t. Its part of the abuse journey, I don’t own my body.

There is a lot of traffic getting out of Walmart. That is usual at this time. It is 3:48 pm.

I look at a beautiful bird at the Walmart exit (no time to take pics). I am sorry to bot have money to give to a homeless person as I get out of Walmart. I give him my prayers.

There is another car with broken brake lights at the Walmart exit.

Yes, you can see how normalized is the social harrassment around me, no matter what I do and where I go. It had been massive since years. Authorities had allowed it all through the years, everytime loosing more and more freedoms.

I remain with my purpose of the day: consecrate my heart to live charity. I look to heaven, remembering my family up above. Heaven waits for my fiat.

There is another broken brake light while I enter to Toa Alta. Couldn’t take pictures.

Prior arriving to the progenitors house of torture I made a brief stop to arrange the stuff I was going to get up to the room, what I was going to put in the fridge and what I was going to leave in the car until 9:30 pm. I also prepared the iPad with music, because I expected noises.

When I was arriving to the house of tortures I began the usual live I do in twitter every time I get in or out of the house, if the progenitors are around. The live stopped in the moment I pointed a candle they left lit. It is the first sign that the phone is already hacked. They never lit candles: they did it because what happened in Walmart, they are mimicking them.

I took the medicine. They left the medrol pen they had been using for a while for harassment. I was given medrol the last time I went to the doctor (they had been using the medrol pen prior that) due the inflammation that caused me their toxic gassing, this time in the throat.

I went to the bathroom, changed clothes to the work clothes, took four benadryls, and restarted the live while I was giving food to the doggies, before going to sleep.

Right now is 4:55. I need to go to sleep at 5:00 pm. I will sleep four hours before tonight’s dreams.

I began to have flatulences when I entered the room. I haven’t had them in the whole day.

Sweet dreams!

I woke up at 9:30, aproximately. I went downstairs and began the process of put all the stuff that were in the car in their place, eat, take the dogs out, take photos of whatever the progenitors left and put them on twitter, and prepare for going to work. The most llamative thing the progenitors left today was a bottle of their coquito in the fridge that is supposed to be only mine, an a bottle of Johnny Walker. They mimick my “walking like He walked” with the marketing slogan of Johnny Walker: “keep walking”.

Prior leaving the house I create the gift basket I will give tomorrow to the girl that has her birthday on Sunday in the work. I complete the basket with the stuff I bought in Walmart curbside today. She LOVES baking, so her gift basket has baking stuff to make brownies, because her brownies taste amazingly good and it seems to be her favorite recipe.

I left the house of tortures on time to go to work and arrive at 11, when my night shift begins.

Once in the highway, on the way to the work. there was one car with broken light in the highway. Again. The social harrasment around me is non-stop. They have no problem in doing the harrassment in places where is clearly dangerous to take a picture. The picture is blurry because in the highway the speed is not exactly slow, but I actually slowed the speed to take this photo.

Once in the work, I received the shift, and one coworker suggested that one girl that doesn’t sleep through the whole night doesn’t it only with me. I know is not only with me, but I didn’t corrected her, I know that this kind of things will always happen because people see that I am not authoritarian and put the blame of things in me not being authoritarian enough.

They also left this in the bathroom, a coloring book that projects that I am crazy because what I say of the broken lights as social harrasment. It is quite normal to people around me project me as crazy, for a variety of reasons.

Here is the coloring book that they left in the bathroom

As I am finishing the day, I am being toxic gassed in the work, as you can see in the blood oxygen app of the Apple Watch. I made the blood oxygen test because I suddenly felt very high intensity heartburn with a little bit of drooling.

My coworker of today’s shift is new in this shift, ao I am living charity explaining her everything she needs to know to run the shift. It is nice to talk with someone.

This would be, technically, the end of the day. It is midnight. You can see the social harrasment is quite normalized around me. Imagine this very same thing happening over and over again.

Along the day I renovated the consecration of charity over and over again, in the middle of the hate and truth denialism of the authorities. Yes, that is my lasting freedom: choosing to walk like He walked, choosing to consecrate my heart, in unity to His heart, to live charity, to remain in His Love, to remain in His light.

That was an “ordinary” day in my life, so full of social harrassment in every place I go and everything I do… but at the same time, in the middle of all that truth denialism, I am conscious of being learning to conceive Jesus Charity in me according to the Holy Spirit’s gifts, according to God Love’s grace… and that is my everlasting freedom: say to the Lord over and over again “fiat mihi secundum caritatis tuam”, “actualizing” over and over again His consecration to charity in me, His charity alliance in me, in such a way that is His power that is visible in the midst of everything I am and in how I grow… letting Him grow more and more in me.

Yes, Jesus Charity is still growing, and growing, and growing, more and more, because our whole personal formation in unitiy is the canvas in which the Holy Spirit makes visible the Love of God incarnated. That is the lasting freedom in me: the freedom to choose to grow as He grows, growing together in more and more communion… and as we make it through the darkness, we are the living witness of His living memory. As I said before, we are called to make everything incarnating His memory: “hagan esto en memoria Mía”… and so we keep becoming the living Eucharist we are called to be in Him, with Him and for Him.

If you see the nature of the personal formation, it is true, we grow like God Love in our three natural dimensions.

Our body (organic dimension) is capable of growing as God grows, in communion, growing as a gift, and as we incarnate His giftedness with our body, the very human creativity that characterizes our personhood is revealed: we can create communion.

Our being (ontological dimension) is capable of knowing God as we keep embracing His communion, and as we know the Being, the rational capacity that characterizes our personhood, we can contemplate more and more His communion, letting ourselves be known as He knows us.

Our sociability (filial dimension) is capable of relate with other and with God as He relates in the Trinity, in communion, relating as we live charity, so the search outside the self of our being-in-relation that characterizes our personhood becomes a huge living communion net that connect us all, a living fishing net of living charity.

Surprise: yes, can can say to GROW like God… humbly. We will never take the place of God, but as we grow like Him, yes, we can grow best. If you see your everlasting freedom as growing like God, as letting God Love grow more and more in you, we can give ourselves as He does… and so our lives become full of fruits of the Spirit as we fullfill the purpose we have been created for: God Love made us capable of growing like Him; to walk like He walked, through our heart’s unity to Jesus Incarnated. Yes, incarnated. He is not an abstraction: He is an incarnated God in the Eucharist that sustain us as we defend our everlasting freedom.

Yes, Jesus Charity, we will adore You as you want to be adored: with our whole growth… and we will fight for that everlasting freedom, but this is not a fight fought with truth denialism and terrorism, but with incarnated charity, creating home that creates Heaven and that creates Eucharist, creating home according to God’s plan, incarnating the domestic Church you want us to incarnate as domestic pastors that persvere more and more in prayer, offering ourselves as You do.

Years ago I took these pictures as I contemplated how we are called to fight this good fight. The pictures are inspired in the movie Braveheart (you can see the image of Mel Gibson in that movie too).

We will never surrender in this good figh against evil for our everlasting freedom. We won’t let anybody nor anything forbid us to choose to adore Him with our whole growth and letting Him create home in us. So, we become a new Holy Family of New Albor: as we let Him grow in us, we help Him keep growing in this world, in the midst of all our ordinary (or not-so-ordinary, but in the middle of the world noneless) lives.

No matter which is the right that the world and the authorities deny to us, we will keep choosing to give you light (give you birth) in this very moment of history, in this very time, in this very minute… in this very present.

And so, Your mistery is made visible as God-Love-with-us.

Let’s keep living this lasting freedom: to consecrate ourselves, in body, in being, in filiation, to grow like you grow. It is not easy to forget the authorities for what they have allowed during all these years of truth denialism and denial of rights, but as we let God Love embrace us with this “manto de misericordia”, we will receive the grace to heal and to keep walking like He walked in every circumstance, focusing in transforming every present time in a present to His heart. When the moments comes to forgive, we will have the grace to do it.

Let’s keep growing together in communion!