They treat me so poorly here at "Averte" and it's because of my-enemies who caused my "Severe Injuries" to my brain and shattered left hip in 7 pieces, sending me to mental-hospitals a total of FIVE TIMES!

My Dad I LOVE MY DAD! he brought an old Bass Fishing Trophy of mine, I received for Meeting you here the Dearest MOTHER Deborah, you wearing the converted tune, “Lady In Red” played instead of “I’m A Barbie Girl” in the universe of melodies so-called songs, taking time so long, Zing! when to sing the sin of Sinatra with his “New York, New York” and the vocabulary tests veraCITY with Circle around the Kay Jewelers with what wedding rings, Frank Sinatra sings his buoyant heart our ears, him singing in a sinking ship but the boys ‘rant’—so it stays afloat for the Oceancraft Parachuted Medical Staff arrive by Choppers and sea-ships—oh I know, I know it all, what they’re called—lifeguards (at the beach) and the Eastern Coasts’ GUARDS with gut-so of a spilled spleen asleep, not now but when, to be with my best friend at night in slumber, some other feather with the whether, the MY “MyPillow” having spoken to Mike Lindell in 2005—getting in contact with him, an email and he was then, a phone friend to the end of his addictions with a photo of a Blue HERRON—him the man who vouched for Trump—where I got in contact with him you see on Commercials—my friend, but one on a “BENDER” in Me-hi-co Viva, Viva Cuando se (seen) paychecks? with what order was taken from me, although, maybe a year or two years, ago, I ordered another one of his own creation, vacationing in the Mexican nation—him being a naughty drug addicted to cocaine, he was SHODDY we talked about how he promised, me—that he would get clean for Trump and he did, Trump’s non-triumphant Republican “elephant” (read my “Elegance”: www.alwayschillen.com/elegance.htm) and peruse what wonderful descriptions of everything “Beauty”: www.alwayschillen.com/beauty.htm that I make to due with no swish-swish basket ball B. Ball the players standing so TALL, like over 6’ tall, albeit but a short-temper, shortly-infused “Terpenes” the Jameson Whiskey out the door and I would only have CBD, 2014-2020 with what THC I went to with my Mom, to NETA, the Dispensary where I had “Financial Hardship” and receiving 30% off stuck key sticker, sucker, stuck-up “Medical Marijuana Approval” that where THREE OF MY DOCTORS WROTE LETTERS ADVOCATING, MY INHALATION—with my intention to get the green-bud legally being freely in Northampton, Mass. and I lacking college classes I had curves in my paintings, like a milk bottle of “The Milk-Man” doing what he can, providing service and posting to all on his Facebook (NASDAQ: FB) now “Meta” I have the upgrade which I see that my www.wrxtbi.com has been interrupted, with my text and photos of my totaled Subaru, all offline (for now), until I find out what the fritz is on the w-w-w my 3 dot-com’s I own and paid for—there’s a House Maid here named Sandy and she cleans for me—washing dishes and monitoring me—any misconduct?—she hasn’t seen a single speck of what I live here and keep my belongings personal-only, like my sleeping with these laptops in (and under-) my bed where I slumber that I have no problem with the “Public Publicity” album on my Eff-Bee “Meta” with what “Business Suite” when I have a nice grey suit here I wear the vest, some days, like I say, “Hey why are you here with my medications up to 2 or 3 hours LATE—the paid-staff sabotaging my mental/physical/vital camaraderie of seeing the “Residents” when I’ve showed some of the them, sworn- they know about me, seen my websites and feeling such D-Lite lifeline lit up bulbs of bushes grown in the garden out front, having bought flowers for their “Office” of preselected derelicts who THE STAFF GETS INTO MY APARTMENT WHEN I’M GONE AND I KNOW THEY HAVE EVIL INTENTIONS ALWAYS SCREWING WITH ME!

But I’m proud to be a “Marquis” who I am French Royalty...