I've had the chance to get back to basics or rather becoming myself again. It's a strange thing that physical exhaustion can do. The body being limp with the emotional and physical pressure can do to anyone, especially when the mind is totally hyperactive.

Now, I want to get back to Wanda. It's been years since I have blogged about her I felt safe, albeit a suspicious safe,  but safe nontheless. Wanda's crimes had caught up with her. But with her criminal history you would think that she would never see the outside again. I naively thought that would keep the world safe. My job was done and I could sleep soundly.

Fast forward to a few years later and bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'd had enough time to cope and ready or not, it was time to check up on her. They didn't sentence her for years in prison for the many crimes she had committed. No, not for her because she happens to be a special case. I chocked down a scream. I have to find out what happened. I dug deeper and contacted a few people from my old investigation days.

I should have just left it alone but there was a part of me that couldn't bear with that level of ignorance. So I kept on my pursuit. The story is that she had plead insanity. These trips to mental institutions had been well documented and it was decided that she would re-enter another mental health facility. If she did her would communed to a smaller sentence and she would one day be able to rejoin society if she agreed. She agreed and went to an upper class one.

This is where the justice system fails. I remember as she had me scrubbing her floors, that had gotten off the hook in other states. I remember those long nights where I was imprisoned. She claimed I wasn't safe on my own and when I contested, she had told me that she was not safe alone because she's going to hurt herself. nothing can make you feel more like an idiot then an easy con preying on one's good will.

I'd like to think that justice could win one for the good ones. But with Wanda, this was never the case. I remember in my many sleepless night of her telling me how she got off of many a crime because she knew how to work the system. They wouldn't put her away for good, ever because she was simply misunderstood. Ok, that last part was bullshit.

She made the the same plea as before and just like before there, she spent time in a mental facility and "made a recovery." As such as these things are, she was released. I trouble myself in the middle of the night that my phone might ring that horror my lie on the end of the line. I think sometimes in the middle of the night that I'm being watched.

It sounds paranoid, manic and possibly diluted but  this wasn't the only time that this has ever happened.  It was the first time it was a woman (I hope to god I'm right on this) that stalked me. The men seem to be plenty but that's a story for another blog post.

More than anything, I know I can survive. I will survive. What plagues is me is that justice was not done. They let her out to do to others what she had done to me. I have at least a moral sense of who I am and for all I lack, mentally durable.

But what of the others? Could they say the same or will history repeat itself?

Finally, everything is ok... well mostly

Hello Precious readers,

I'm back..... 

It's been years since I last posted anything  and believe it or not, it's been for the better. I brewed and stewed about what happened with Wanda. I even became afraid to step foot aside because deep down inside I felt as if only the bad was waiting out there for me. People pretending to have my interests at heart got a hard rejection. 

It became a problem and nothing helped. When I did go outside, tragedy stuck and this time, there would be no safe place, no escape and no one to talk to but police and authority figures. Even the friends I held so precious, left me and in the end I simply got used to it. What was the point if they were all going to leave me in the first place? 

I came to the superman problem. People absolutely love you, when you can save the day and make their world better. However, when things happen to me and I need it  help you can almost see the smoke outline of where they used to be. 

But that never bothered me too much because it happened so much that it fell into the category of rampant independence.

nut that's not really the way to go. I stopped. stopped writing, stopped painting and stop talking. after all what was the point? however, the last two years changed the way I thought. there are so many things out there that need the love that I kept locked away. for those of you who followed my blog, l knew that I had battled depression everyday. but this week I found the strangest thing. I was smiling. 

It wasn't that fake smile I plastered on my face to get the day over and down with. I found my own happiness through all the death and rage. 

I'm stumbling through my own emotional zeitgeist and missing the most important point. The reason I decided to start this blog to begin with and her name is Wanda.

so here is the low down. I was hired to set up an art gallery but it wasn't close to the truth. After kidnapping me, stalking me she attempted to sell e into sex industry and attempting to make my life a living hell; she became incarcerated. even though her locked away gave me a sense of peace that maybe she would never hurt anyone ever again.

It without a doubt allowed me to have the ability to trust anyone again or myself for that matter. It ruined my interpersonal for many years. Left me thinking that any kindness given to me was a manipulation tactic. it was only until I started working my present that I came to realize that being kind and being genuine wasn't necessarily cause a collapse.

I did come to find that Wanda did get released into in to the public and is attempting to do what she had one to me. I had to come a fork in the road. Do I go after her or do I let her go so that I can continue my work that has made me so happy?

It wasn't an easy choice. I choose happiness over the vulgar rage I still harbored.

Does this mean that I won't watch her like a hawk? I don't think I can give up that habit so easily. I will not give up on my own dreams for someone whose not fit enough to be dirt on my shoe but I won't allow someone who was as naïve as I was. I won't allow someone to get suckered into a terrifying sacrifice to chase a dream better place than one person serving on a silver plate.

So my precious readers, 

Is it time to give up the ghost on an idea of vengeance?