DA 23.
AUDIO & TEXT
Introduction after numerous failures of sound output problems:
I thought that was the platform’s renovation according to which my way of simple voice recordings might no longer work. Actually, when one is about to publish a new post at Substack, there are options given such as text only, video, audio, and so on. I recall there used to be podcast right under the text only option, but the order of choice is shuffled. My choice has always been text only because it is more appropriate even for the Dash About series. The option for text only can be perfectly adaptable to direct voice recordings which I do.
This morning, the sound output didn’t work. So, I tried the option for audio in order to test the new situation which I encountered and to resolve the problem. The format came up was that of podcast, which doesn’t fit the style of my audio & text in combination. So, I changed the password of my Substack account. Then, all went back to the normal as to be settled like this.
The obvious conclusion was, at least for me, that the disruption must have been due to external interventions, either onto my Juliette Masch Writes, or onto the setting of my device. My inclination is to say they’d done both. But they? Who? Let me remind you of the code names… yes, those …. yes, that one and this one and more …..
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I’ve never been such a type as desiring to record everything by whatever means. In the distanced past, I in fact though tried to write diaries. No, it’s never done successfully. Because I’m not and have never been such a person, that’s the reason. Nevertheless, certain things can come up to me. Memory counts, memory matters, one would say.
Additionally saying of myself, I’m not and have never been able to unfold my thoughts with logic methodically. Whether I like or not, rather than that, my intuition (and inspirations) often guide me.
Well, those three, including me, were unrelated previously in absolute terms, but the mere chance made us stand there to converse. My sudden fancy arriving at me at this moment is, well, do you want to know? Why not we would have a podcast at our reunion? But, such would never happen because I’m not such a person and would never been. A chance is a chance. It arrives and goes. That’s all and that should be.
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Those two, they’re anyway and at any event very special people for me at those circumstances at that moment. You know what I mean, I’m sure you know.
Not allowing me to give self-indulgence overly, but the worst could happen when bad people, protected by secured higher powers, saw the situation in which I was as having been in fact their focused target as number one.
Oh, this is just a movie shooting. Pour gasoline and lit fire on.
Oh, this is just a movie stunt. No one is in the vehicle. We need to hire big wheelers on the site to ride on the upside-down to catch up the shooting schedule.
In such possible contexts, she must have been sent by God to let me out of the upside down Mini.
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Who’re those bad people? They’re led and financed by Code names, mostly by “Paul”. All cover ups, then and now, are by “Pearson”, “Shiba/Shiva”, “Stéphanie/Stephany”, “Jennifer”, and the local state widely significant code name that is “Tiffany”. One can more than tentatively assume that all those are homicidal psychopaths.
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FWPD invoice:
This is an exact image of the official invoice I received from FWPD. I covered the date, the claimant (that’s me. Juliette Masch is my penname), and the street name.
So, the Mini and I traveled on the guardrail acrobatically about 50’ or 15 meters approximately.
I dug out the document yesterday from a pile of file binders. I had recalled the traffic control was more expensive than $1000. It turned out that that part of my memory was not correct as you see. The full payment was covered by the insurance.
This invoice citing the cost details is Page two of the FWPD letter sent to me. The cover letter specifies that I made the damage to City property.
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Missing important documents which prove my life and me:
From FW house:
My very first green card issued by the Federal in 1991.
Two official letters notifying my employments: one is by La délégation du Québec à Tokyo; the other, The Swedish Embassy in Tokyo.
My expired Japanese passport covering those years.
The photo copy of my Massachusetts driver’s license covering those years.
Other personal mail which I received.
The original MA driver’s license was taken by the FW motor vehicle office when I switched my license from MA to IN.
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Arrest or PC? Anyway my stuff was gone:
More missing important stuff with my backpack when I was taken by Police in the city which I am now in. When? In the winter 2018. Where? This city near Boston.
My wedding ring inscribed the date of the marriage: ….. 1991.
My bank ATM cards and credit card.
My small notebook in which scattered memos of various things, including the password of my very first Facebook account which I had deleted. There were also handwritten copies of my digital submissions to NYT.
Names of some other online accounts which I ceased to use.
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My body was swaying, so they called Police.
Speaking of it, I lost my confidence of the material of the built-in on which I slept, covering myself with a blanket. That must have been wood, or the condition’s too harsh although everything in the cell was already very very harsh.
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Later, I contacted the same Police. I was told that was PC.
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You got the reason for my distrusting leftists:
(fr)
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Bye for now:
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DA 23. by Juliette Masch (1/14)