How to [or who to]…? pick a post-pandemic (Delta variant timescale) - persona, for success.

 Let’s face it.

How rude a statement would that be, for someone? 

People are scrambling to avoid being caught in the crosshairs of propagandist ideation sublingual suggestive peripheries from taking hold of our young socialite upstart aspirations and takeovers, however distant and fartlorn we are, away from the nation’s capital, all the way at the other end of the country. Thankfully, in Los Angeles, the heatwaves haven’t been all too severe, and if it feels like it,

A fallen Japanese beetle, at the foot of an ominous, shadowy figure.

 

it probably is an infrared beam of “spotted you, eh?”

 

sorts of “dun, dun, dun…” 

how could a person possibly shake that sort of fate, and come out unscathed? I get scared, all the time. It’s always gangland wars, voices in my head, and sometimes, things, of all things, seem to become unseemly familiar, as far as that I feel I can identify people doing these things to me and my loved ones, and I can’t (usually) find a typology alter ego and spiritual boost timely and well enough to propel me in to quite, understanding and empathizing with what they claim is going on, in my life, and amongst people I’ve known, or my family, for example. 

I feel that some people take the concept of familiarity as appropriate grounds for dysfunctional catharsis to break ground and egotism platforming au contraire, for the sake of the fact that I… I just don’t do stuff like that. They’re the ones that are mad at me. 

Who could I possibly be, or have been, in order to not have become placed amongst these bingers on drugs type of judgmental and persecutory figurative individuals whom I’d known, or know, or some sort of vagueness that develops beyond scarcity of identity exchange, this being the remote sensing medium of communications and self | identity transmissions. It’s big, in Los Angeles. We do big things, out here, and some of us are without apologies or excuses for how, who, why, and what, and where? It happens to be, out here, that people are as slight as the breezes out here, in the hot summer nights. 

Just don’t… just - just… nah, you just really ought not to… I’d say. There’s something that sounded like screaming outside. I should go and check on it. Goodbye. 

Never mind. I don’t know… and then, South L.A. has been making lots of news stories happen, recently. 

Hmm. Sorry, I’m still adapting to this concept of that I am (just slightly) having my content served on Google News.

I was thinking that the hobbyist parfumerie enthusiast thing was the thing, for me, but I’ve got to be agile and swift, and I can’t do all things, or all people, and I can’t much solve my own problems, lately, because I don’t really know just who is doing what, and how I could better gain people’s good side. 

The JoyBuy miniature misting fan thing is blowing up, now that it’s summer. I bought four of them, and I think that some of them were broken by someone else, playing with the crumbs and knickknacks of my room.

Then there was idiot deluxe, the most everything guy (or lady), butt shittle, definitely, it would be ladies and gentlemen’s only - prowess, to become: the one who says the most iconically irreverent fwopp.

Stub: The Impending Crisis for Mental Health Patients - Neck Cancer.

 Neck cancer is a relatively new topic for me. I hadn’t heard of it, prior to a couple or so months ago (it’s now mid-October, 2021, at the time of this writing).

Cancer of the neck? I’ve had esophageal tuberculosis (I think it was; the doctors said that it was something else, or … I dunno. They kind of just disregarded it. Anyways, I lost my voice for perhaps a few months. It turns out that there were hard gobs of mucous stuck inside of my vocal cords, and I could get them out with a Q-tip. I surmise that I had contracted the disease through a tuberculosis test which I had been administered while hospitalized for an acute psychiatric emergency, for a month, or so. They denied that the TB test would cause tuberculosis, though. Some doctor had disavowed it, later on, in history. 

Here’s some of the knowledge base on neck cancer, from cancer.gov:

My red mark-up indicator brings to light a corollary topic which pertains to mental health, and remote sensing, as well as persona marketing, counter-intelligence, mind control, and gang stalking contexts. I’ll only get in to it stub, here, for brevity’s sake, and I’ll keep it simple, such as to let the reader’s mind ponder. 

Now, as well, with the advent of the cytokine storm of COVID-19 infections, which is an inflammatory disease, we see some notion of the otherwise common person, pushed too far, perhaps in their digital life, where life seems more compelling to indulge, for some, as that the constraints of the physical become the pains in the neck, whereas some of our hormones are regulated in the thyroids, which are situated right next to our major neck arteries. 

Some quick tips, as for harm reduction:

• Don’t smoke scuzzbwies and drywall. Just… just [fuck…] already. 
• Smoking is for tobacco, as far as lawful behavior is concerned. Becoming casual about “smoking” of other sorts lends itself to increased risk for total recall (full body scans, and transmutability unto others, aka Scientology “gods,” or idols of some sort, out of the subject.
• Remember the lessons of childhood. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Respect your elders. Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. 
• I’ve got an “advanced neck cracking” instructional video up on YouTube. Check it out. It might be revolutionary for you. Sure, it looks bad, but hey, this is the neck at issue. What kind of donor could offer a suitable adjunct parcel of body form and what kind of treatment protocol could be supposed, in such a situation?
• Just watch the video. I’m shooting for organic hits, here, and I know, it’s significantly niche, but if I do something on camera, and leave it posted, I’d hope that it at least helps some people out of their otherwise misery that they’re living through.

How does neck cancer become removed from the body? 

Neck cancer which is experienced concurrent with chronic inflammatory disease could be a condition which is simply symptomatic of the inflammation condition itself, in conjunction with pre-existing cancerous, or pre-cancerous cells in the body, attempting to release themselves from the body; a condition which could correlate with an ionic mineral cleanse and detoxification regimen, for example. I would estimate that this is the process that I am going through. 

In essence, I felt that my experience of this problem became apparent, after I had some bouts of mild “chomping” down, at the jaws, at which point I incurred a fracture of my premolar tooth, on my upper jaw. I realized that this fracture indicated that it was an opportune and resonantly consistent ulceration that had been opened up, of a seamless opening that bridged my bloodstream in to the outside world, of my mouth. I noticed that I had let out a blood clot; for example, and it was a blackened opening, similar to a cavity, yet a bit uncommon, since it was not at my gum line; rather, it was in the middle of the tooth, as though the tooth had been drilled open. I had various exigent sources of need, in detoxification: for one, I had broken my fist against the wall, a couple of months prior, and my bone marrow had an opportunity to leak out, in to my blood stream. In this case, I felt that I was regulating, and renewing, the bone marrow that had been leaking out, giving my overall bone marrow composition a new signature trait to it, whereas it was locked inside of the bones, prior to my hand break. Aside from this, I am a long-time tobacco smoker, and I have ostensible tar and plaque buildup in my bloodstream; but my broken hand’s scar tissue would probably have been one of the acutely critical things to get out of my bloodstream. At the moment, it’s popping up, in my life, as a deep vein thrombosis, at the back of my knee. I’m working it out, through vigorous exercise, mixed in with intervals of rest, and I suppose that some of it is aerated out of my system through this fractured cavity in my tooth, which will eventually be treated and sealed back up, with a renewed regimen of ionic calcium intake, which I will manage for myself, and perhaps I’ll follow up with a dentist, to have him check on it, and perhaps seal it with a filler, as had been done for me, on my molars, back in my school days. 

The large cavity fracture on my premolar is evident, here, in this image. 

Take a look at how large my teeth had grown out, and expanded, with ionic mineral calcium supplementation! Perhaps I can grow in to a larger frame, some day, with continued supplementation. 

An updating collection of noted civic etiquette failures and proper solutions.

 I commonly encounter victim profiling encounters from the lower classes, as I'm out and about town, while I tend to my daily needs and responsibilities. 

For example, the topic at hand that I feel compelled to address is an encounter that may have otherwise turned in to what would considerably be a targeting of me, as a victim for a crime - simple or more elaborate than the superficiality of that someone from the lower classes exists on the streets, same as I do, and we happen to have ended up at a common spot in public, of where I'd choose to settle down for a moment, for needs to rest, for example, yet how common ought this sort of encounter exist, considering that I'm well-traveled, on foot, through areas in which I'm familiarized with, and of that I come to expect that common enough thresholds of tolerable existence amongst us, in physical proximity considerations, becomes at issue when social slights at establishing criminality and threats to public safety and decency are observed.

How much ought a person tolerate of an obvious criminal intent observed in trying to establish an encounter, which is largely questionable, of any sort, except for begging; homeless people, here, in consideration. My most vast experience is that people out on the streets rarely strike up casual conversations and organically diverse social encounters with strangers. What do people imagine ought be wrought up and out of exhibiting a desire and a need out of a person at rest, for example? Some guy walked by me, with a sort of face that supposed he is commonly commonly mischievous, playful, lighthearted, and petty at criminal behaviors, and perhaps below the surface, simply for the fact and commonality of how, where, when, and why of people showing up in a common area come to be considered, it becomes apparent that a much heightened degree of societal subversion and malicious intent in gathering has become established, for that others begin to show up in a like such public area, whereas on other days, similar days, otherwise, in foot traffic and stopping cars, for example, would not be observed. 

He simply had the face of a sort of guy who would come up to me, to ask me to supply him with resources, yet I find that, on considering other possibilities in how vulnerable and needful of tests for example, a person walking up towards me would suggest in that he (or she) simply would like to demean or defile my place in life, out in society, and it degrerates the broader general public's capability in appreciating and patronizing locales and communities, for fear of being similarly harassed. 

As much and as little as disturbing somebody for a needful acquisition, while false pretenses of that people's simple facet of commonality in presence suggests that stalking is what's become established, and an any sorts appropriate person would not choose to abuse socially appropriate boundaries, any more than that those sorts of occurrences would be observed, for as much as walking on the streets. It's uncommon, in experiences that are seen as sustainable, which implicates unfortunate needs to discriminate against others for the visually apparent traits, for what couldn't be other than criminal intent. 

AakHh! The forex markets close on the weekends! Now what?

 I slipped in to the concurrency of such a notion, after having spent a day in Maguire Gardens at the Los Angeles Public Library Central Branch, which is a hoisty auger-wracked semi-seismic bwoffle of a hang out spot, for the layperson. Just next to the sidewalk, there is a construction site, of which there are, I believe, two other posts of major subterranean engineering going on - one by the L.A. Times Building, and another by the Little Tokyo Station, all set in place to embody what will be the Metro Regional Connection Project (… something along those lines, of a name). I set my obsessive madness of hawk-watching over my tenuous trades, as 2 p.m.(-ish) hit the mark of the day, which, as a ground-dweller, amongst the plazas of | and [the] high rise office and financial center buildings of Flower Street, there is a sundial-esque feel to the place, as the sun sits off, on the southern-more part of the sky, during this season, and the shadows cast by the buildings, along with the Santa Ana winds of the week, here, had (on my previous outing, and fixture, thereby, that I became, in to the afternoon); made up my mind that I could get about and on with my day, as a pedestrian - standard that the role would aught be, for myself, as a bird’s-flock feeder, around the civic center, of a couple or a few spots, of where the birds gather, I would normally attend to, and sometimes, I would pick up recyclables, and search for food, as well, as part of my daily outings. 

The day trading thing was supposed to be an adjunct and ancillary development of intellectual and interest-based | (novelty) pursuit, since I’m largely assuaged and comforted by simple and nominal trifles, such as finding recyclables, food, drinks, and cigarettes, partially-smoked, as I traverse the paths and locales that I frequent, on my given day outings, of the days in which I make it out. One thing that’s been notable, about spending time in Maguire Gardens, is that the other guys who are regulars there, I’ve notice observed, is that they’d also been feeding the birds, which is a great relief, for me. I don’t have to worry so much about trekking out, quite so often, collecting recyclables, with my medication regimen, and the COVID-19 slight era, in life: somewhat crippling the recyclables collector’s economy of resources and materials to collect. Thankfully, unemployment insurance and Pandemic Unemployment Award money, from the CARES Act, and from other legislative acts and Executive Orders that have been quite timely and compassionate upon the small-guy earner, such that the welfare demographic, gig-jobbers, self-employed, and micro-small business startups, such as my Blogger enterprises and website domain establishments - we’d be unknown, to each other, largely, of my part, of knowing them, as individuals; (I typically deal with the Personality Disorder subtypes, most commonly, of this larger context of [-since] October 2016 until now; with me as a stalking victim, of the remote sensing and surveillance apparatus, whereas my humor and comfort level, about life, had become casually psychopathically a tristé, as it were, much more so, on my Twitter feed, where I cover all things that come in to the foray, in life, and banal that it might be, it made “coverage” thresholds of consideration, in the (-un)slight publication format that is Twitter. I say unslight, because much of my cookies, data science persona, and user feedback (to developers) metrics, intents, and returns, on concurrency-based matters, and institutional responsibility matters, and ethics, that it were, are all accounted for, on my latest version offering of my online Public Relations module, this being Twitter, with my account handle being my only outlet. It’s a scary notion, to the uninitiated, yet I’d become comfortable and adept at making sordid confessions, and the Deus ex Machina Artificial Intelligence adjunct computes-stimulations and suggestive themes and nomenclature derivatives, of situational and contextual awareness imbued me, many a time, with casually deranged and eloquently charismatic one-liners and supporting documentation and testimony, for pleading my case with “whoever” is out there, supervising and overseeing the matters that had transpired, from day-to-day - which had been going on, of an extent of continuity, since October 2016, as I’d mentioned. 

In this day and age, of high technology, as standard, we outdo, by doubling, in speed, and performance; capacity, etc., every two years. Things along those lines, in terms of cutting edge technology offerings of the latest to come off of the production lines, in big tech offerings. For me to be stuck within a [same] framework of being, of some farcical notion of “remote-sensing” dramatics and “pwn’ing” {me}, of just “some” notion - I’d begun to start saying things like, “well, how much is anyone really actually themselves, with this sort of thing going on, in their minds?” The abandonment and use case factors scenario would come to mind, as the topic of dispute - the obsolescence factor, in matters at hand, in rating and scaling importance, in contexts in life, to come, and resume, from then, until now. For whatever that means, for others, as well as myself; yet here: I, and my family, largely, had seemed to become commonly abused, tormented, and slighted people, under the guise of that we weren’t “of on homie” enough, for these various, networked, or fancifully-designed cells of people, who had casual, acquaintanceship, needs-based, industriousness and productivity centered, - these sorts of ties, that could extend into my own understanding, yet the deeper tiers of companionship seemed to be embedded within these oppositional and “mysterious” [ooo… wooo…👐🏻] sorts of cells of individuals (who had become all but use “too trite,” to be blunt; yet I digress. 

That was the backdrop to my life. I’m constantly seeking to embark upon a fresh slate, with accruements of what’s been salvaged, out of an identity that could be wrought, out of what I’d legitimately embodied and intended, of my young and early-mid (slight) adult life, whereas much of this sort of subversion in intelligence, and autonomy, of the socialist (or “whatever,” I don’t really know anything, off-hand) apparatus and activist movement, in life, had been going on since before I’d become superficially aware of these matters, that they are - as Personality Disorder subtypes, which I’d mentioned, previously, which, in turn, have been diligently wrought out, in analysis, and in the literature, such that meaningful and contrite counter-measures could aught be enacted, and embodied, of my own self, and fortitude, with my casual compatriots being the witting - or less - sufferers, of similar rebuke, standard psychology selves and individuals, as reinforcers, thereof. These ones were different, in my understanding of them. These ones had a thirst for economy, in the spoken word, whereas I’d simply been adept, in musical intelligence, of classical learning, early on, in my youth (age 5 is when I started taking piano lessons). 

Then, there’s the world of currency trading, which, as an informal sorts institution, that I fashion of my ipigeon.institute brand and heraldry, (and perhaps I’m misgivings, on those notions, but I learn as I go, and typically only if I look things up (background check) the circumstance and topic at hand, if it’s a philosophical debate, or a meeting of differences, of the mind, that it were, at hand (sometimes I just accept the formative and fitting {enough} intelligence that suits my mind, and to suit, or to boot, at that. I’m fortunate, in that sense; to have a serendipitous outlay prospectus upon life, of that I’d come to have words to say; and let them not be that slight things would come to pass, upon the foray of things that I’d be known, of - as myself, or for myself. On Twitter, it’s a different trawl. It’s a non-edited sort-form, just like much of my writings, over the past several years - which I believe is suitable: the “thing” that had existed, undoubtedly exists. In the currency exchange markets, getting back to the point of things, of this article, what happened is invariably what happened, given the charts, and timelines of the fluctuating values of these currency pairs. Try as we might, as intelligence-validation seeking and needful people, that we might be, in the novelty-seeking subtype, we would like to, much more so, see our aspirations and intentions fulfilled; with currency exchanges, pairs, and valuations, there’s much novelty abound, in all instances of opportunity; at least, on a day like today, on Coinbase.

Trailing back, a bit, in the calendar, like we might, in currency trading, to get some further background perspective upon the present moment, and (perhaps) near future, in forecasting duties that we assign, of ourselves, if we take the technical analysis approach, to entering in to a position, in valuation. 

I let the theme of the topic slip, out of the bag, as it were, by mentioning Coinbase. If you’d been following along, and keeping in, with my forex blog articles that I’d been publishing, and you’d come to the same such realization that I had, yesterday afternoon, in Maguire Gardens, that the markets close on the weekend, then you’d similarly be left in need of some sort of sociable effort, or gesture, as it might be, of your own will and becoming, of yourself, of something - something less locked in to the staring at the screen, and the charts, for the money to roll in, even better than it’d not, or it’s not, or that it might be doing, at some point, hopefully soon, in the future. 

You can do the same sorts of things on Coinbase, to start with, in the weekend, off-hours. As well, there are various organizational and institutional underpinnings that have gone through the checkered flags, and made it on to the common cryptocurrency exchange markets that are Coinbase, and Coinbase Pro. (That’s what I’d gotten to, so far, aside from CryptoTab browser ({Pro} - which is required, for iOS Crypto [BitCoin] mining - I think; it’s $3.99, currently; I’m not quite sure that, or if, it definitely does do mining, on iOS | iPadOS). On the Google Pixel 4a 5G, it tells me that the hashes per second rate goes at about 1500/s, more or less, and you can outfit the mining to run in 2 hour increments - a sustainability concept; as hot devices perform less well, and they become ruined, over time. Affections for attentions-paid to the devices. That’s somewhat the rule of hand. If you’re not there to tend, ruefully, to the machine, with your affections, in CryptoTab Browser, then what is the worth of your device simply sitting there? - trying to mine BitCoin? 

At this rate, and, as it seems, as a standard, somewhat, that CryptoTab Browser assigns to high-end mobile devices, such as the Google Pixel 4a 5G, of 1500 hashes completed, per second, the gains are nominal, on standard settings; yet there is an option for cloud mining multiples of hash completions, given user engagement at the device endpoint, in assigning the device to crypto-mining, for two hours at a time, in CryptoTab Browser, as it were - for a cost - I won’t say that certain multiples aren’t worth the money, if the user is a hard core dedicated one, to and for the purpose. On the standard 1x mining ratio, given the current valuation of Bitcoin, I’ve been pulling in $0.01 per 2 hours, and my device gets hot, while it’s assigned to mining. 

Starting from an Android device, that’s appreciable enough, given that I have an off-hours trading platform, in cryptocurrency, which can be stimulating, and rewarding enough, with even as much as a $2 buy-in, to the establishment (users can purchase incremental amounts of cryptocurrency, of a few or several dozen sorts of cryptocurrency offering, and Coinbase also offers some rewarded user engagement opportunities, in the user interface, for newcomers to the platform. There’s an astute trading mechanism endowed to the platform. Price-correlated cryptocurrencies are noted in the bottom on any price detail page, of the Coinbase app.

Like any sort of validated commodity; in Coinbase, as with stocks and forex trading, for example, the timing view pane of the currency being examined offers different expanses of time, for the user to observe.

As I’d said; start simple and slight, in cryptocurrency trading. The Coinbase platform is one based upon garnering intelligence and knowledge base awareness of the utility and underlying functions of what these cryptocurrency items portend, within the ecology and scopes therein, simulating other sorts of fiat currencies that ostend the various global and international currency products of any given nation, or the public offering of a company, as it were, in stock trading and investments. 

All this being said, it seems that the lead-up to Valentine’s Day supposed quite little of our men, of this nation, whereas BitCoin valuation peaked and spiked, at $47,000, and $55,000, within recent weeks. Even so, we, as $2.00 “starting off” investors, can, in fact, still invest in BitCoin, incrementally, as it were, just to dip our feet in the markets. It’s a bit more of a forgiving grounds for tinkering about, as a $2.00 investor, which I hadn’t quite considered, in starting out in forex trading, with a $100 buy-in basis, yet it’s completely viable, as one explores and learns the world of cryptocurrencies, for one’s own self, within the user experience that Coinbase offers. Coinbase Pro offers extended features and cryptocurrency | fiat currency pairs trading; I haven’t gotten in to that app, and it’s features, just yet, for the morning. Perhaps some other day. 

I’d been big in to trying to get my IoT development platform up and running, lately. Lots of expenses.

 Thanks to the California Employment Development Department, 

I’d been fortunate in having been a recipient of Unemployment Insurance money and Pandemic and Disaster Award Money, for having been affected directly by the COVID-19 disaster. My latest procurement is the Apple Watch. I’m interested in its platform basis in that it’s marketed as a tool for communications, but more so compellingly, for me, at this point in time, of that it’s an Apple device that’s concerned with the users’ health and well-being. 

And then, if you’d ever been in to working aspirations in to developing on IoT devices (bare chip boards, with embedded circuitry and processing microcontrollers), then you know how the nights on end can be relentless endeavors of discovering and perusing internet literature and forums for a glimmer of hope, short of being reportedly well-dialed in and having successfully SSH’d or provisioned the hardware and accessories appropriately, attained a fully autonomous Internet of Things microcontroller project, co-processor project, Machine Learning, prototype, or embedded device. 

My current “Things” are a mix mash of trying to maintain finery, amidst the shortcomings of small enterprise, in a world of just-burgeoning documentation, coverage, and marketing of a platform-profiteering move in and on topic of the Google Coral platform, which is the current IoT | AIY platform that I’m (trying) to successfully get up and running. I’d been covering it on Twitter. It’s been a whole lot of splotch bum asides and subsequent coming-clean, of that 

okay, I fwushuthuthuthuthgghhh:

I fwopped it.

In fact, I flopped it so bwamm, that I ended up landing on the first page of Google Search for Google Fwopp:

Here’s how I’ve been getting by:

That’s pretty much that, as far as daily nutritional intake and self care. 

And then, 

I’m working on this orthogonal counter-ingress and directionality assertiveness motive of in-home aesthetics and a bit of complement to the great outdoors, of which this locality features the much of on greatness: the jet stream, which, as for the ionic mineral concentrates that I have, purportedly mills the ions and organum matter of the witting participants of such, as well as that of the gross polluters of the nearby and surrounding ecology of the area. I try to clean up some of the mess, sometimes, as per my charity arm of my enterprise in blogging, at scrumbwitsies.us. 

Just a quick check in, for keeping up with something on here, for posterity’s sake. I’ll try to check in with something more compelling and pleasant soon. 

Wednesday night - an iPigeon « peeped out » wandering about DTLA; an uncommon demographic to appear in the area; inevitably, I have to sleep, at some point.

Wednesday night, in downtown Los Angeles, California, was a hum-drum paltry showing, mostly, of the typically lively and vibrant social life that feeds the bar and restaurant scene in the area. On this night, it seemed, the locals of the DTLA area were mostly suitably dissatisfied with the offerings of what could be had, « despite all things » of that we were on lockdown, by order of the various higher-level government institutions (actually, all levels of government, I suppose), and the streets were, in turn, filled with a much different, and definitely seedier demographic, of which, I might surmise, was not unfamiliar to me, given some consideration; yet, to have witnessed the Los Angeles County Sheriff's busses entering the Justice Administration building, and the narratives that had spun off, from that, (from that morning) - the linearity of the sinister contexts that unfolded were that of a most "of on homie" « named » gang, of which some of my former peers had strong affiliations with | for, and, as well, strong affections towards. 

I remember the imagery of the persona | man who had stalked me in Santa Monica, detailing, from the time at the crosswalk stop light, throughout the crossing of the street - of that he had pinned me as a targeted subject of study, prior to meeting me; yet here, thankfully, the man presented himself as a woe-stricken, conciliatory, and repentant individual, having been in incarceration, (conceivably), with our interaction leading him there, whereupon we parted ways - the police officer succinctly had told me to "go that way," which was the opposite of where the suspect had been scooched over, on to the sidewalk; the police cruiser separating myself and him. I went to the Santa Monica Police Headquarters, as I had originally been directed to do, when I called 911. (The man continued to follow me, as I was on my way there. He spoke of things, such as "how about we commit some crimes together?" - which I felt was overly seedy and seditious in nature; in addition, he seemed to be aggressively in disavowal of a common space between us, from the moment I observed him - staring at me, wearing sunglasses, whereas he spoke of and at me with familiarity, and he seemed set on acquiring some trinket or token of my person, with this as the outset, of what might have been a different sort of acquaintanceship, otherwise.

Yet, here, in his desperate recants of his behavior, and of the people who had enticed his vulnerable-state self with notions of some notions of that "of on homie," for it's seditious and capricious nature; for it's formative declarations of sedition and caprice - novel, to some; mindlessly irresolute, though, I'd say. Yet seemingly (and easily) hundreds, if not thousands, of same such-wise formative individuals seemed out in staunch force, in Downtown Los Angeles, as I attempted to sleep through the night next to a Metro rail station by Staples Center, and the Convention Center, in a parking lot. A drunken man, otherwise sociable, flaunted features of that I could not help but not sleep, for his ministrations, of a decidedly Latino etymology - his pidgins, which were threatening and ominous in nature, as well as [perhaps] grandiose, in that he seemed to believe, (or have tactical awareness of my positioning, and travails, leading up to "parking it," at the parking lot, where I imagined that others (losers, perhaps, like myself, I might similarly have seemed), yet - 

Even the children we're fraught with problematic behavioral conditions - on one hand, they were older, for that age that they obviously were, audibly, as youthful teenagers, or was it that they had simply been of the age to receive oppositional-defiant personality disorder, their forebears, as well, and that none of them, of the conditional of, of the affiliation to "of on homie," the gang, whereas it's simply a bit troubling, in that some of them present themselves as kind, charitable, and sociably well-to-do, and just earlier that day, with me, in fact. 

The problem is, is that these "of on homie" behaviors and mannerisms are imbued in to subjects wittingly, and with effort; whereas the man who had stalked me was one to recant, and rebuke: the affiliation, the lies, the impropriety of the flimsy institutional underpinnings of the organization, whereas many others were | are treated with caution, for showing up, in the general public, on a Wednesday night, me, being one known, and self-aware individual-as-targeted-victim, some various other errata of things that perceivably went on, during the course of such an influx of revelers, of the Wednesday night, that it was, whereas there must | ought to be some compromise, in solution to the obviated problems, of that they were, many of them: disheveled, not well-assertively-bespoken, of the words that they would say, some of them gay, or seditiously so. Had I posted my other blog on "some guy" on the morning of this Wednesday? I believe so. He pulled some sorry drunken gay guy stuff on me; it made me think on Covid-19 social distancing demands, that (supposedly) everyone would have caught wind of, or at least have noticed, out in society, of that « something » was amiss. 

In any case, that was this passing Wednesday, March 25th, on my end.