They tell you what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Maybe it does. They never tell you it makes you develop a phobia to protect your mind against evil and harm. No doubt this productive homeless black woman is efficient in mind and body. But I am still wondering if these people who think they are stronger because something didn’t kill them ever had a near death experience. Are these possibilities even in the same conceptual sphere? None of that racist degenerate shit I encountered on YouTube for instance can compare to a near death experience. I know the very epitome of people not wanting me to succeed because of who I am. My readers, what can YouTube do to me now that can almost kill me. Crazy, some people imagine hardships comparatively is is a sick thought. I have a self-therapy tag in which I share things like this. Another way of sharing. Believe me earnestly, no one can provide psychotherapeutic therapy to you more than you can for yourself. One day I am going to write an analytic book for all of it. Thank you for being here.
My readers, wherever you are in the world, I will never want to hide a book like CTTD in print versions behind some backdoor at a Bluesie jazz comedy fest. Do not make me something other than human and humane with my books. Give your support. CTTD has been a lesson in law. Justice must be achieved. Give your support and hold on to the relativity.
Raising one’s hands down existentially once is a definite degenerative disorder ( a cluster B factor). The degeneracy of raising one’s hands down existentially twice should be listed as a DSM 5 genetic and mental disorder, and the inability to raise one’s hands existentially as “imbecilic throughput schizophrenia”—ade ronke
On January 7th 2026, I was stalked, harassed and arrested by the state police. The reasons for this is, in my view, the intellectual and daring proclivities in my book, A Case in Point. There are other reasons to be stated in this book. If every indication of my life doesn’t suggest this to you my readers, it is calling it: if I wasn’t to be me. would I not be dead? But I am cognizantly alive by my own recognizance. In other words I was arrested for being who and what I am. What is to follow is false imprisonment, and a true story of great injustice and ceaseless attempts at cover up while I meet unsavory criminals along the way. If this hadn’t happened to me, I couldn’t have conceived of it. It happened to me. I must go beyond mere conceptions. PLEASE SUPPORT THIS BOOK FOR PUBLICATION
BOOK ALBUM—AIN’T THAT HOW IT GOES–music mood -1 * Nothing’s Deader(than love) 2 * Bulletproof.
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