Sunday, November 24, 2013

Understanding Trauma ... Part I

  In one of my previous posts I said I will explain and talk about my trauma due to the circumstances I have been falling and dwelling into during the most recent times of my life. I personally strongly believe in therapy. I mean, professional therapy where you go and talk with someone who is professionally trained to help with whatever disorders or fears someone might be dealing with, acutely or chronically, at a given time..

  I must disclose up front that I have never had a history of mental illnesses nor anybody in my family. I did grow up with someone who was abusing alcohol in our family, but that was pretty common in Communist Romania, giving the fact that the drinks available were mostly dirt cheap vodka and some home-made wine. No wonder I hate vodka so much! In my mind I've associated it with the Communism, as funny as it may sound...



  However exposure to people drinking Vodka I had, I have never been exposed to manic, depressed, neurotic, uncontrollable addictions or sexual behaviour while growing up. I said it before, I grew up in a quite hermetic environment, and I grew up slow, not fast... However, due to my incredible and painful recent financial fall, here in America, I became vulnerable and dangerously exposed to predators and I've learned (very unfortunately) first hand by observing their "template"behaviour. I came to me that any criminal behaviour or potentially criminal behaviour seems to be rooted in all kind of mental disorders (as a personal observation and conclusion!). The ones that I believe could identify so far were narcissism, ego/megalo-mania, bipolarity and some serious compulsive addiction to alcohol, drugs, sex or buying stuff, lots of stuff to fill an emptiness inside....

  I am now past 40 years old, yet, I often surprised myself carrying an amazing  left-over (?) amount of naivete which I believe it's been my blessing and my curse. One of my absolute peak of naivete was to believe that my very own people,the Romanians, would not attempt to steal my identity, nor attempt of poisoning me - see the cocaine post, nor to  allegedly attempt to drug me, and ultimately, as I imminently felt in several occasions, to kill me or set me up in a fatal accident...

  When my financial crash became imminent, my mother called Dr. Serban Cocioba (see my previous post about his role as a "connector" in here) and asked him as any desperate parent would have to another parent close to the events, to help me get over this enormous danger rising in front of me: eviction, homelessness, financial crash, etc. He had the total lack of consciousness (often called psychopathy, right?) to promise my mom that "Will do!", while he knew well in advance that I was targeted to be stripped of my American citizenship, identity, and ultimately, as I suspect now, in the light of more information, be brain washed, drugged up and thrown into one of those underground and illegal prostitution rings....which have plagued New York ever since the Eastern Europeans organized crime set camp here, in South Brooklyn,  back in the '80s. They might not be visible but they sure exist, and I have not seen it, but I "felt" , or I should say, I sensed  it's chilling "breath" on my back neck since I have lived this drama...

  ** Here, I might insert that I have titled it Part I because I can only write for so long without throwing myself into a panic attack, so I ll go through this subject in smaller sequences, not because I want to build up expectation from you  but because this entire chain of events have been  tried me similar with an American soldier deployed in the unknown Vietnamese jungle during the Vietnam war....and we all know, as have been greatly documented, how the survivors came back to the country when they had to cut that war short....And, no, I'm not exaggerating. Some of you may not fully comprehend it, because it's hard to understand something you don't know. Clearly, I can relate to this....but I know there are many of you who fully and completely understand what have been happening to me and who, I believe, have even a better understanding than me about everything....



  My trauma is definitely layered on many levels and it was provoked by different persons, and was aimed to shatter my mind and personality on different key points, by inducing a set of horrible negative emotions, which were supposed to virus my system, similar with a terrorist Trojan Virus which is supposed to totally fuck up a computer network.

  What saved me and brought me so far was that, without modesty, I came to understand that I have been intellectually blessed and although I was telling this by doctors and educators since I was 7 years old...I thought they were referring to my memory and capacity to understand, learn and store information; mostly school related information. I had to live through this ordeal to understand that those capabilities were applicable to any surviving situation, and to actually admit, that yes, I was gifted. I am ready and happy, in the future to submit myself to any diagnosing, measurements and professional therapy to have those skills measured and possibly put it back into a good use for the society.

 However, I will have to wait until I can do it with real professionals, rather than with potentially terrorists organizations. And there is an episode, that I will talk about in the following parts of this blog, in which "those ill intended organized people" tried to declare me crazy, so they could easily make me look delirious, and that nothing of what actually happen was nothing  more than a figment of my imagination. No, it is not a figment of my imagination! And I have this deep belief that there are trained professionals who understand all that I am going through and  describing and who have seen this happening before, many times, and have much more information than it is currently available to me about how those types operate. This belief has kept me on going....It's a positive thinking from which I draw courage and energy...

  Please, if you learn something from me, learn about the Power of Positive Thinking...I beg you....

  One of the most traumatizing "needle" was Mariana Baciu herself. It was very hard for me to accept and understand that a woman in her '50s, coming from Romania, just like myself, who chameleonic-like  changed her appearance and behaviour to appear as a respected mother, business woman and "Lady" (as she is called around here) could possibly unleash such (allegedly) attempt to kill me for not giving her what she needed from me (my rights and citizenship for her grater goals). This is incredibly hard for me to understand. That a mother which appear (keyword: appear) as someone who is nice, on a first superficial look, can demonstrate to me such a split personality and behaviour. Someone who appeared to me initially as a perfect hands-on mother for her own offspring, could turn into something else, and didn't seem to stop short from nothing to destroy another person's offspring ....and all that without me really hurting her in the first place....All is been generated out of her Belief of Entitlement that she can have what and when she wants, and that she is above the Law, as well of the other mortals.I have many times thought about this disequilibrium in her thinking mechanism....

  I remember a few years ago, one particular highly mediatize story about a woman who was/is a bonafide mother of four kids, seemed the perfect "soccer mother" of an upscale Westchester, NY suburbia, yet she was IN PARALLEL an well established, successful  Upper East Side Madame pulling in million of dollars out of an illegal prostitution ring. And don't confuse it: not an introduction agency in which the girls will meet prospective husbands, or ending up getting married, NO! It was a downright sex market. Then, she will take her madame "coat" off, in the end of the work day, and will go upstate to take her kids to soccer games, bible study, parents' meeting and play dates. I was so puzzled by this story back then that, even if I don't know her personally, I hoped she will rotten in jail for many years....as I think she certainly served time, even if she was well lawyered up to get her off the hook...

 So, when I saw this split signals and contradictory behaviour coming from Maria Baciu (so pretended philanthropist , made believe more as a predator, criminal strategist for illegal immigration, all in once) , and you see what happen to me as I described in my previous posts, I also came to assume that this kind of orchestrated, well-oiled machine of terror must have been well practiced prior me "popping" into the scene, and it will,, most likely, perpetuate itself if not stopped, after I myself would be removed and saved out of it. This type of versatility does not describe an amateur. Even a naive like myself, I was able to finally see the writings on the walls. And I don't need a Phd in psychology to understand it, my minor in it, seemed to have giving to me enough information to work with.

 However much I thought about it, there is a point where I cannot go any further, and I hope I ll have a trained professional explaining to me one day.... How is it possible to really live and react on two different levels? I am totally blown away by this... My intelligence cannot stretch as far to make me understand it...or maybe my conscience is not capable of such stretch? ....



 There have been many people who hurt me, or I have came to detest in my life, but I have never ever fantasize on physically harming them. I would be terrified to the idea of complot to kill even someone that I deeply hate. Example:  those personages that I came to hate these days, and who really terrified me and terrorized me. If I would have the means or the opportunity to kill them, I would never ever, in a million years be able to "push that nuclear button". Not on them not on anybody....I never brought my mind to even imagine on doing such a thing, left alone to put in in practice.

  Sooo, ...would I like to see them going to jail ? Of course. Jail is not a vacation. To a minimum those who hurt and terrorize people would get the exact thing in return during a jail "vacay". Over there they could and definitely should experience some of the feelings that I myself have experienced as their victim: fear for my life, fear to eat that my food could be contaminated with some drugs, fear to smoke the loose tobacco I have smoked for years that it would have AGAIN cocaine mixed in it,, fear that I could be set up with anything, fear that I will be made-believe crazy so nobody would believe that what I have been experienced is actually REAL,  fear that I am being drawn to made-up law suits with the intention to scare, intimidate me, shut me up, and made a villain out of a victim, fear that I could be physically hurt, kidnapped, or thrown on the streets as another homeless, ....

  I will stop here. But not before I will repeat: I wish that the persons who lied, scared, jeopardize and endanger my life and  attempt to stripped me off my own identity will one day received exactly the same being done into them.

  When that time comes, I ll have one simple question. How does it feel???

  

  I'll be back.


Monday, November 11, 2013

The Time To Give You THE PLOT Is Finally Here!!

  My story came to a point, similar with some of those indie movies we like so much, for being so real, and truthful to life, where after I started at the beginning of my interaction with Mariana Baciu, then I gave you an idea of the following three months, and now, I will jump to today, and of course go back, and write about many other events which need to be recorded, anyway.

  In order words, I will answer as much as possible in only one post of today, to a basic question: "Why did Maria Baciu, and her very "organized support system" had unleashed such a torrent of terror, harassment, vandalizing, and ultimately the attempt to kill me or to create the stage for me to kill myself by an accident (as I explained in my post The Cocaine Episode - How I Almost Got Killed......) ???



  Here is the answer in one sentence: "She wanted my American citizenship, and implicitly to use my entire identity, and to manage my identity just like she manages those buildings. She really needed someone to married her home helper / bodyguard / hit man (maybe? apparently) / caregiver for the old and paralyzed husband, Petru Baciu, who at the time of his stroke, was still the principal owner of  "Petru Baciu Associates" with 75% while she was the owner of only 25% of the business. This helper, who allegedly is her boyfriend, too, according with some sources, was very trustworthy to her and I will write a post only about him, and his psychological profile, the way I had learned it myself, and without pretending that I am psychiatrically diagnosing him, by any means.

  This individual, whose name is Vitali Balatel, is from Republic of Moldova and it was recommended to Maria Baciu by no other than Cristian Sofinely, the super of this building, who is very reliable and "trustworthy" (as she told me long time ago) -- I've also talked about him, in my previous posts.



  So, she had laid out all the details: had him divorcing his wife who is a simple, hardworking homemaker with no less of four (!!!)  kids, but who is "in luck" considering that her husband "secured" this amazing job with a very wealthy lady in New York, making as much money as a recent Harvard graduate in the American standards AND tax free, since he was in a visitor visa since the very beginning, not to mention the "benefits" this job came with to him. Yet, about himself is not clear if he ever went through high school all the way, but even in Moldova, like in Russia you can buy a paper which will attest that you went to college, still by any account would be possible to ever produce this kind of an income in the dirt poor small village of Moldova Republic, nor  in America, where really skilled, talented people, with college education, or even masters, are unemployed or under employment, due to the disastrous economic world crises.

  So, this all was masterminded my Maria Baciu, just like she does with everything else, playing "God" , while manipulating people lives and finances and behaviours.  All she needed was the American citizen girl to enter this sham marriage and allow her to be in absolute control of her identity. And here, I am entering the story: being recruited by the Romanian doctor which I only find out after I moved here, that it is a ex-con, being convicted for insurance fraud, and about who Maria Baciu boasted during our landlord-tenant trial: "I met her through my personal doctor of 20 years".  True!! It would have been impossible for me to ever meet her, because I generally stayed away of Romanian community and lived in Harlem, Manhattan, rather than in Brooklyn or Queens where they have created a nucleus of the community. However what brought me to that doctor, Serban Cocioba, was the fact that I was in my last year of college, I was financially distressed, hitting towards a major financial and life disaster if I couldn't get employed even before graduation. All my financial resources were dried up and I thought that a doctor must very well connected to many people, naturally, and it will be able to recommend me somewhere even for a menial office job. At that time I had no idea about his conviction, I had no idea that he had been financially "bailed out" (underhanded, of course) by Maria Baciu, and he owned her allegedly a quarter million dollars, next to many services in return. And there are many pay-back services...(!!), but this topic needs a stand alone post.



  However, to finish giving the whole plot away....It was very difficult for Maria Baciu to find that person. Most Romanian who get their citizenships through lottery, or most often, through sham marriages, as soon as are in the possession of the permanent green card, even before the citizenship it's granted to them, have already plans, "on the tube", of marrying someone else, to recover the money they paid to get it, or they will re-marry their real spouse to drag them in and the rest of family. So, for Mariana Baciu finding the right person was really an uphill task.

  Now, Dr. Serban Cocioba has talked to me about the topic several times during the past few years, about people needing it, and the "money to be made", but he always approached this subject  in an "accidental" , "by the way" manner, to "check me out" where I stand on this issue. I mean, that's how they saw it: I was divorced for 10+ years, I was an American citizen, I lived alone with a dog, no family, no commited relationship, and I was beefing up my education going to a college in the middle of Manhattan, while I was poorer by the day. My last boyfriend who was very supportive was in 2005, and I had no interest to get into any relationship with a dead end, or someone that I was simply not in love with, and clubbing and one night stand were never, ever, my circus.

  So, beside that they thought I am either autistic, damb or down right crazy, they still thought of me as being   that perfect "candidate" for solving their problem.

  They carefully "hunted" me and watch me how I got evicted from an apartment I couldn't afford anymore, and as I was still unemployed, recently graduated and with a semi-boyfriend who's mother always wanted him to be a social climber, and she didn't even wanted an immigrant like myself to come near his son, let alone to host me for few weeks, or few months, although there was not only their apartment where my boyfriend lived with her mother, but there was also a grandfather who is living alone in a large place in Brooklyn. But, no, she wants a certain "game" for her boy, and she did not allow him to help me out at the moment of my eviction, although he had  basically spent 2 years, almost daily with me, and nobody forced him to do it. Plus, his drinking vice was definitely getting under control since he met me. And funny enough, he would never had the need to drink while in my apartment, but as soon as he would go back to his mom place he would just get waisted. Yet, her mom refused to admit all this. And I wouldn't worry anyway about her beliefs.At my eviction time, of course, he made his choice: his mom in front of me, and there is nothing to analize about it. Some boys are just close to their moms, I guess. He helped me, through, loading my things in the moving track, with no destination, and then he went back home to shower, drink and sleep, while I remained in the truck with my dog, looking for a safe parking lot where I could rest, if that was even possible.... Some people, I've met are absolutely blow minding!!

  So, here appeared Mariana Baciu. I was technically homeless for the first time in my life, without a place to go,  but not exactly living on the streets of New York but in a rented truck with my dog, for 5 days. I mean, I have been to fashion school, mingle with a bunch of very snobbish people.and that very day I had to spend my whole night, as the following one, and the following one, a total of five nights .... in a rental truck, with my dog who was so upset that she stopped eating....and while I was absolutely frozen and trying to not loose my mind under that kind of stress....I myself I have a nice collection of beautiful clothes, I'm well adjusted to society, educated, and healthy...yet I had no hard cash, unemployed, with a dog, stressed out and scared, and with no family in United States, just a semi-boyfriend who announced me that "American people don't help!". Of course it's bulshit. America has been the most generous country in the world, but I just didn't run into the right American guy, and I had to get evicted to learn that the hard way.

The one old lady that I was supposed to live with, also recommended by Dr. Serban Cocioba, conveniently changed her mind about my dog, and Serban Cocioba announced me that if I want a place to sleep then I shall drop my dog at the pound. It is amazing to me how this people felt entitle to make choices about your life and your pets life. I adopted my dog from a pound, and saved her. She has became my American family, and is my American baby. She loves me unconditionally. How could I ever just discard her? ...This should give you an idea about the way this people think. We see in TV how firemans risks their lives all the time to save pets caught in fire, or floods, yet this educated Romanians which are living in AMerica for many many years, still believe that the life of a pet is disposable of a moment notice. Well, later I had to learn that my life was disposible for them, either, if I don't comply with their requests, so a pet's live is just a joke on their perspective. YET, THERE IS A BIG EXCEPTION: if the pet in cause belongs to their childrens. Hypocrisy and Double Standards are OFF THE CHART for these individuals (more about it later, to)....Wel, I guess I have lived with American people for too long, and I forgot about the primitivism and luck of empathy of Romanian, Russian, etc, not to mention, that at that time I had no idea that I was seriously "targeted" and "groomed" for the ultimate goal of marrying with Vitali Balatel and pave his road to citizenship, and ultimately to his wife, kids, etc. I was already "assigned" for a supreme purpose. If I can be excused, here, allow me to squeeze a "The can go fuck themselves!!" from the bottom of my heart....



  Eventually I met Mariana Baciu on September 12th of 2012. I parked the truck, I left my dog there and I went to see her. When I stretch my hand to say "Hello" she left me waiting, pretending that she didn't see my hand. I mean, for her I was another "disposable" and little that I knew about her arrogance, back then.



  She told me exactly what she wants from me. But she added that "She might not need me" because she is already working in renewing his visa. She also told me that I have a big defect of being financially unsolvable but that's why she will sponsor "us" making appear as we are a young couple which is being sponsored by close friends, till we get settled. Blah (That's me vomiting!).
  She also said that she would help me anyway with a room, not an apartment,  because she is a philanthropist (yeah, right, see my post...Yeah,....I Want to Stay Alive....Is That a Problem??...) and she is known for "helping people" from the community which are in distress.

  That same nigh I moved into a small room, which is on the ground floor of one of the buildings "Petru Baciu and Associates" owns. This is an old building who used to have tones of facilities room on the ground floor, like, porter room, mail room, etc. all those rooms have been converted, some are used as wearhouse, some are for the personal laundry room of the super, and some are like a living quarter used to host ...temporarily ...fill in the blank, whatever...
 The promise was that she will move me upstairs in a large apartment, which I saw, and YES, it was humangust compared with the studio that I lived in Manhattan.

  Only 5 days later, after I finally got into this "transitory" room it was made clear to me that the marriage needs to happen, ASAP, because by the time we get the license and made the marriage, he would risk becoming illegal, being that his visa was not renewed, although that Im sure, now, that she turned every stone to make it happen. I mean, she was able to have the mailman acting as a private currier, and thousands of people cases being "cleared" so that we will have a "totally private" trial room. It must have been that the Immigration told her to fuck off at that time, and I was ordered the marriage. And I was not confused about the pressure on me!!

  However, in that very same day of the marriage I had a nervous meltdown. I had never done anything illegal in America, and I didn't want to start then. Lucky me,  later I found that getting married then was not illegal, especially considering the underhanded blackmail, and psychological duress that I was at the time this was imposed on me.(here, I need to write a post of some people who "decided" that psychological duress is when someone hold a gun to you. Of course, this judge, left intentionally unacknowledged the very fact that psychological duress is exactly that: psychological not physical. More about it later, in details).

  Next day following the marriage, after she treated me with lunch in a restaurant, she sent me to a lawyer to submit my documents. Since I never got married in America, I had no idea that couples go to the lawyer, after few months.

  Then I was ordered in the sweetest voice, to go to bank with this person that I am married with, open account, get ready to move into my large apartment, and prepare to sign a myriad of  papers which will make everything look rock solid and real, most importantly. I'VE NEVER SIGN ANYTHING. I went hysterical. I called her an architect of humans smuggling and mastermind of illegal naturalizing. I told her to back off my identity and she should never ever touch it. I had not submitted my life nor my citizenship to her, and I think that what she got from me, until I get an annulment, should give her enough time to put him on the plane back where he belongs with his 4 kids and wife and find a proper home care person, if thats what she needed.

  She responded in a sweet voice that she advise me that I should never do anything that I don't feel comfortable doing (like I didn't already demonstrated that I know it!) and that no apartment would be made available for me, but since she doesn't need that facility room,  and she is known to be a great philanthropist, she maintains her statement that she would have helped me with the small room, so I can stay there till I get old, or whatever. I remember that I laughed, and responded that it is a nice wish to be there for the rest of my life, but I have better expectation from my life. I thank her for charity and told that I accepted it.

  And then.....the terror, vandalizing of my computers, internet access, multiple forms of harassment, attempt to murder, attempt to lock me up in a mental hospital .... started. The hell broke loose above my head. I learned that she doesn't "operate alone" . I had people appearing into my life under the fake pretence that it is accidental, and they are just friendly neighbours, when in reality everybody had a decided role to  play master plan. Reminds me of the Stalinist, Communist ..."WHO IS NOT WITH US, IT'S AGAINST US". and how did I dare to not accept to submit my whole identity to them??? just like communists they felt as they can go grab whatever they need from a human: citizenship, history, private property and ultimately THE IDENTITY of a being on this earth!!!



  It all culminating with taking me to tenant-landlord court, where she had a judge working just for us for half day, in a private setting, and he acting as part of her defense team (see this post Ka-ching, Ka-ching!....Is this a good thing?....).

  Not for a moment this judge as the other judges that saw us (two others - I ll get there, too)  had ever signal that they will contact the DA to report this civil case brought up to their knowledge to simply cover a seriously potential criminal case.... almost like a doctor will only treat the bullet wound, while guarding to let any details about how that bullet got in there, get discovered or reported to the proper justice or law enforcement department which deals with this specific topics). I must be naive, but I have experienced a level of corruption here in America, that under no circumstances, before it, I would have ever believed as possible. If I would ever heard or seen this thing happening in America, I would have discounted it as a lie or a blockbuster Hollywood movie. I was obviously very ingenuous...and so my mother, actually, who always told me that America is not Corrupted Neo-Communist Russia nor Romania, and I will not be hurt without any protection from the people who are paid  and trained to do just that: watch the health of society. Well....she might me a naive lady, as well....



  And this is the plot. Now, I'll have to take it piece by piece and elaborate on each part of it.

 Currently I am still married and I couldn't find an organization to handle an annulment. I can't afford a lawyer, and they did not allow me to handle it myself, as people do with their divorces, at all times. Could it be, that just like they have someone at the Post Office, at the lower civil court of Brooklyn, they also have someone at the divorces and annulments who is there to block me what is a fact: That I need to annul a marriage who never existed, and was pieced together only by Mariana Baciu and Dr. Serban Cocioba, taking advantage that I was very vulnerable, and scared beyond what most people ever experience in their entire lifetime.
  I ll have to explain to those of you who are not familiar with emigration (well, I'm becoming an expert, in my process of protecting myself and my identity) why Mariana Baciu and her wide network of lawyers, still did not give up on making him a bona fide American citizen. There is a "crack" they are trying to squeeze him through: creating a big fakery file and presenting him as a "battered spouse". A divorce will help them. An annulment will stop them short. I dont accept the divorce formula, because this will imply that this marriage actually existed. I only saw this dude 3 times in my whole life, for few hours total. And he was constantly reporting to Mariana Baciu over the phone about the process, getting the license, marrying and seeing the lawyer. If I see him on the street I don't even recognize him well, or instantly. Yet, I have a marriage certificate, which i demanded from Maria Baciu and I got it (because she felt entitled to keep all my documents as well). This marriage was a fakery, obtained with psychological pressure, and it never existed. i want out of it through an annulment. I also call on her for what she did to me. And I document the broken hell unleashed upon me because I had the nerve to protect what is rightfully and legally mine: my identity. Well, this set her off and if you read my last 10 blogs, you will see how my last year was mostly dedicated to keep myself alive....And this is not an understatement by any standards.

  I'll be back.

NO. LOVE.






Wednesday, November 6, 2013

"You are so fucking crazy!!..."

  That "you" in the title was ME!!!! For the first time in America that I am trully verbally assaulted by ....a FEDERAL EMPLOYEE!!!!! who is at fault, himself!....

This is how I felt: BROKEN!!!!!

Me, feeling as a broken doll under the almost tackle of Mr. Mailman on the sidewalk today. I can't believe it!!


  And this sentence came today, at noon, in plain daylight, from the mouth of a federal employe: the Mr. MAILMAN of our area (zip 11230 !!)

  This tall, black American gentleman seemed a sweetheart when I moved here and I introduced myself and asked him to deliver my little or no mail that I will be getting here. However, as the saga of covering up crimes continue....remember, the saga in which I fell as a fly in the milk?? ....more and more people come out of the woodwork and seem to be involved to some degree in this story. 

  I mean ....The Mailman????? Let's get serious. This is a federal employee, who makes a decent but secure income and has a job for which many of those 7% + unemployed would kill for....

  This gentleman, delivered to my hand (HAND DELIVERY!!!) the other day (last week, on the 31st of October) two envelopes, coming from the (soon to be) famous attorney of Maria  Baciu. The catch was both envelopes were not meeting the time for response requirements set by the judge (I'll get there in the next post!) and everything was iffy, to say the least.....AND BOTH ENVELOPES NEVER SEEN A POST STAMP. They obviously were given to him hand-to-hand (I'm gonna skip all the math permutation available) and he passed them to me just like that....

  My question was not "Why are you guys keep insulting my intelligence, and treat me as a second hand citizen?" - although that would have been a totally valid question to ask...

  My question was even more basic: "IF YOU ARE A FEDERAL EMPLOYEE, why do you deliver hand letters which obviously did not go through the postal system? Why do you do this, jeopardising your safe job? Why do you do it when you are on the clock, paid by government,  and ultimately by the taxpayers?  What do you have to get out of it? This is not only unethical (that's a slap on your hand!) but that's downright illegal. You are serving me HAND-TO-HAND court papers, which have no evidence they been mailed in time, and they are using a federal employee as a private courier, yet, he has not sworn an affidavit of service, and I doubt he ever  would, since he was on the clock of his regular, government job."

  His answer??? Pretty scary! He stands at over 6" and he almost shove me to the side, trying to get the two envelopes from my hand, and with a pen in his hand, he was trying to cross the stamps, while yelling at me : "I void the stamps, I'm the postman!!"  This was happening on the sidewalk, noon, broad light, with some passers by....

  I had a panic attack ever since....because after having a "masquerade" private trial, now the mailman is so involved into this??? I mean, if that doesn't make you realized in what danger I am and how this organization operates, I doubt you would realize from now on...The MAILMAN??????? I mean, sorry for repeating myself. This is a government secure job. If a guy is doing private deliveries for the company "Maria and Petru Baciu Associates" located in Queens...and represented by a lawyer located in even much further, more obscure area: Flatbush of Queens,....could you help not wandering how many "services" like this has he done in the past, and how many more is he up to, in his future government career???

  And then, he loses his temper completely, and almost tackled me from his over 6" to my 5.3"???? Trying to aggressively scratch the stamps with his pen....and "void" them on-the-spot, on the sidewalks of New York City??? 

  If I'm sleeping wake me up, pleaseeee!!!!.....This is a big metropole, "financial center of the world"...blah, blah, blah....in the best country of the world...blah, blah, blah....I'm getting sweared on by the Mr. Mailman...and almost tackled to the side???? Noooooo!!!!

  Tomorrow I'm going to meet with his supervisor at the Post Office. I will find his name and let you know. I will file a proper complaint. And if they covered him up, then......you got the picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


  I have been terrified by this event all day long....WE are supposed to be in court again, on Nov 18th...and I hope to make it!

  Here are the envelope and the court papers Mr. Mailman (which will have a name and surname tomorrow!) hand it to me AGAIN privately, just like the trial in the lower court was....


P.S. Tomorrow I will write more explicit. Today, I am in such panic surge that I can't even edit what I wrote. Please excuse the typos, if any...

  Wish me that I'll be back......This was supposed to be a future novel, and it's turning into a "scream for help" blog....And I didnt even share 20% of what it had happen to me from my interaction with Maria Baciu of Queens, former Maria Baciu of Botosani Romania....Someone help me out: how can a woman, naturalized American only 30 years ago, has the power to corrupt all this born and breed good Americans, with decent jobs, who are generally known for puritanical, God worshipers???? No, I don't have a complete explanation....Maybe you do......

  I'm loosing it..... I have the truth on my side. But has she got all those federal employee on her side, already??? 

[** All photos are enlargeable if you click on them. Please notice his attempt to scratch the stamp off as I was pulling the envelope towards my chest to protect them...]




  And the time sensitive court documents delivered to me LATE and WITHOUT ANY POSTAL STAMP:







  


Saturday, November 2, 2013

Document, Document and Document Even More...

  Here we are...on November the 2nd of 2013....

  In the beginning of October I wanted to write about some painful experiences of my recent times, during what I wanted to be a "writing marathon". I got "sidetracked" from the "race" I have created for myself by a malicious attempt to have my blog hacked....

  And then, unfortunately, I slowed down for a bit...only...I've paid immediate attention to some  things, like filling for an appeal with the Appellate Court and some other things which I would be happy to trade out of my life, once and for good, and put all this rubbish behind me and close this chapter, while moving to a safer better place in my life...

  However, I believe that pushing things to the side doesn't mean healing, but allowing them to grow bigger and wilder, while pretending they do not exist, until they blow out again, later, at a time when can hardly be contained. I am aware that my blog currently is hurting my prospects of working for corporate America, since the corporate world is too well known for playing safe. Any HR personnel reading my blog, will nix me from any list of potential candidates. So, I made them a service, by not cluttering their inbox (they get anyway applications in the thousands!)  and temporarily suspending my job application. After all, in life you got to get your priorities in order, and I have always praised myself for having a very organized and well structured thinking process. I might have dealt with trauma, and post traumatic stress disorder, but that was not due to the fact of having a confused mind. I actually managed to stay aware that I'm dealing with trauma, exactly because I was always able to rationalize what is happening to me.... And, maybe, because Universe has this unwritten law that before any great beginning, everything outdated has to fall apart....maybe this motivates me to focus more into creating a business of my own, something which I'm passionate of, and who knows...hopefully...

  So today I actually thought to google "anxiety" as seen by artists and I found this art work which I thought was really close of how I would pictured it myself, if I didn't have the words or I couldn't write about it...

I would like to give proper credit for this art work, so if you know the author, help me out, please...

  Many times, in the past, I wondered why some people come clean about dramas in their lives...I couldn't believe that it helps to heal, since I never really had the need to come clean on anything. I've never had overwhelming secrets. However, today I am writing from a different perspective. Even if your drama is experienced from the position of a victim, I would seriously advise you to talk about it. Actually especially if you are a victim of any kind of abuse, by keeping it secret you empower your perpetrators. It's been researched and documented by social science that being a victim of any kind of abuse: financial, sexual, physical or any form of fraud DOES NOT automatically make you stupid, or irresponsible, or unfit for society. Many people are embarrass to admit any abuse inflicted upon them, and they think that by keeping it secret and dealing with it alone, will eventually get a closure and then they might even heal and forget about it altogether. However, Einstein said it best: energy it's not made nor destroyed, it is only transformed. Well, I didn't exactly quote him, but that's in my own words what he said. So, this applies to our lives, since that's exactly what we are balls of energy. We do not wipe something out to create something brand new, we just transform what we got. The best of us, transform pain and abuse, or trauma, in experience of life, wisdom, strength, kindness, tolerance and power. The other ones, not so best, transform it in vices, hate, frustration and poison everything around them, including themselves. The ultimate courage is to talk about it. I finally understood it! And although I am making a real effort to share some frighting experiences I have had lately, I am discovering that each time I get myself to write, even if not as fast as I would like to do it, due to the emotions that surface while I am recollecting the events, I feel better and lighter, which means I get to carry less "ballast" into my future healthy life, for the sake of myself and my future family...

  This post may seem quite philosophical, quite general, but it probably explains to the best of my abilities, my motivation of writing about unpleasant things. Beside, I have been literally keeping myself alive and documenting everything, knowing that Internet is very unforgiving and whatever is published remains documented and it will endure probably forever. Or at least, that's where we are now, technologically speaking.

  So, picking up my story where I left it, in the previous post, ....after Maria Baciu allegedly with her "ready for any" handy-men tried to hook me up on drugs by providing me an unsolicited generous amount of crack cocaine and even going the extra mile to convincingly (and very secretively) mixing up into my tobacco, so I could, if they were lucky enough, smoke myself into my own death, and after proactively wiped out my external hard drive, destroy my laptop so I could be a body with as little history as possible....the next thing I'm getting from them, only a short 3 weeks after the Cocaine Episode was a letter in which I am told:

CLICK TO ENLARGE PHOTO
 And it came in this envelope, stamped by postal office on January 11 2013 (it might look like 22, but my printer is not high performance, it is January 11), and ironically the USPS, added a "Happy New Year" for it's customer, out off courtesy. Only if they knew...that as a Christmas "present" I was almost sent to the outer space to meet with Santa over there, instead of waiting here on Earth, for him. Maybe I could have help him out sorting the letters? :-)



  In so many words, her skillful lawyer, about which you will hear more in my future posts, is threatening me to use the system and to twist the letter of the law, to make me afraid to even speak about what it's being done to me. In those many words, the letter is nothing else but a machination of scaring and discouraging me to even talk about my own life and what I'm going through....or as this funny is quote states:


If the laws could speak for themselves, they would complain of the lawyers in the first place.  ~Lord Halifax


  I rest my case, for now.

  I'll be back...

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Sunday Thoughts....


"There is nothing to writing ...
All you do is sit down at a typewriter...
and bleed..."

                                          - ERNEST HEMINGWAY




Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The Cocaine Episode - How I Almost Got Killed...

  Tonight I will literally force myself to write about a horrible episode when I was almost killed. And, of course, if you've read my last post Yeah,....I Want to Stay Alive....Is That a Problem??.  you already know that all the misfortune that came my way in the last year were "not" man-made (tongue in cheek!!) but accidents or some sort of "aliens" from Mars may have came by to do it, and they chose me..."Right!" (another tongue in cheek!!)...

Let's get help from the President to show us how a tongue-in-cheek looks like!


  However I will keep this episode short but to the point. So help me God!!!! The only reason I am doing so, is that just going to that moment in time, in order to bring it out and write about it, have elevated my heart rate. I kept on telling myself all day that I need to get myself to write about it, and the more I tried to program and motivate myself to do it, the more I noticed my hand shaking about revisiting that moment in time....

  In order to write, especially autobiographic, to be accurate and to paint a clear picture so any reader from any corner of the world gets as closed to picturing it in his/her mind exactly as it happen,...I ll have to revisit this episode. That is very painful. Although I stayed at home the last couple of days attending to a seasonal nasty flu that I got, I was really scared of the moment when I had to bring this episode to light..I think I've wrote it in my mind several times, and each time I got to the end of it, mentally, of course, I felt as it was not even close to what I felt than...

  Here, I'm gonna squeeze a joke, to stay true to my natural funny-self...then will get back together and I'll publicly talk about an episode of my life which took me as closed to death as I had ever imagine...

  Remember Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City? Remember how she comes home, and writes her column mostly about life, love, dating, sex in New York City? Well, here I am! My name is not Cary but Alexandra and I'm writing about Crime and the City, and I hate doing it!


  From the bottom of my heart, I hate it! I'd rather write about fashion, exhibition, museums, collections, art, designers, up-and-coming artists, events....etc....that's where my heart and soul is...But, if writing about this misery will keep me alive, will keep other future victims alive and...ultimately will make justice and protect future girls and boys from having their life arrested, manipulated, ruined or their identities stolen from them....and then discarded while the perpetrators will happily move on to their next victim...then, if I'm able to counteract it,by all means it's worthy revisiting an episode which was beyond terrifying...


  Basically, if Id' say I never got drank, I would lie through my teeth. I have, countless times, mostly socially. But, I'm hardly a regular drinker. Maybe that's why I get drank after two beers. I didn't practice it often enough to build resistance...
  Wha'? Yeah, I tried weed, several times in my life. Maybe 25-30 times in my entire life. Usually socially, too,...someone had it and I share. Never bought it myself. I wouldn't know from where or how.
  Well, cocaine?? NEVER!!!! I was so scared of this word that even when I attended parties where it was freely offered to me, I never bought into it. I can't explain exactly why...It was just something which always scared me...From my experience with weed, I don't handle social drugs very well. I am told I am supposed to relax but it does the opposite to me. So I figured if weed would drive me crazy when everyone else gets relaxed, then what cocaine is going to do to me???? Omg, I think I'll pass....

  And I have always passed it. "Not for me, thank you very much!"

  However, this is not what the little "invisible" people that live(?) work(?) here, in Mariana's Baciu building had in mind for me...

  Remember that I didn't comply to her demands? I guess that was an offense...
  Did I ever mentioned that since I moved in her building everybody, as I noticed, calls her "Lady" with the out most respect and fear, in the same time. Reminds me of Corleone, he was going by the name of "Godfather"...Strange!.... I remember (how can I forget?) that she "made" a thousand people who were looking for justice in the Civil Court of New York, just like myself, vanished! And we had a whole court room for half of day for our trial, with four people in attendance. What a gift from the taxpayers, to some virtually anonymous citizens...Wow!! ...not to mention the entire masquerade of that day [see it here: Ka-ching, Ka-ching!....Is this a good thing?....] ...So, why would I be surprised if everybody seems to hold her in deep veneration around here? Please keep in mind that most habitats of this building are nurses, handy men, constructors, and home attendants. Roughly 85% of them, living in 200 apartments, which sometimes are shared by two families, to save cost. Most of them are first hand immigrants, non-born americans, but some have citizenship, just like myself. So, if she gets court staff to dance around, so to speak, metaphorically,....could you extrapolate it to imagine the piousness that she receive from those fellows immigrants. and multiply that with a hundred for those of them who get to work or do gigs for her, putting hard cash in their pockets, and feeding their families. The Pope himself would be envious for piousness I've witness around here...No, I don't buy this. I might be born in Romania, but I came here to live and think and act and react like a true American. I am as Americanized as they come! I don't venerate nobody. That's for the citizens of underdeveloped countries. That's how they create tyrants and dictators  and then ask Americans to go help them out. Yeah, ...Anyway, back to those tenants on Mariana's Baciu property, mostly  Russians and Romanians, have been growing up in those countries where if you achieve wealth, you receive respect. How you achieved it, it's not of the matter. (trust me, I come from there, so I don't speak from the history books).

  To preach to them that in America nobody is above the law, at least as we are taught in schools here, is to risk being considered ridiculous and retarded. There is a Romanian saying that "Money have no color" and I came to realized that many of those people that I encountered on this property are a strong believers in this concept. It is unfair, I know, that they managed to come and take advantage of this country and it's system, while many other young, talented kids who would have a lot to offer to this society, cannot get themselves here....Could be that they are not unethical enough??? Will explore....but not all at once...in small bites...

  So, from the very beginning I have learned that nobody on this property makes a move without express permission from the "Lady" herself (read Maria Baciu). I couldn't get a nail in the wall from the superintend (her right hand, nonetheless) Cristi, or the guy who fix the garbage, Titi, or...or...., etc, if the permission was not granted from the "Lady" Mariana Baciu. No wander she made a Queen of England like appearance in court!  In school we called it micromanaging, here I'd call it feudal irreverence look-alike. I wander if she achieved this type of dignity all by herself or there are others propping her from behind. This, too,  to be explored. No fear, no holding backs...they already tried to kill me last  winter, sometimes between Christmas and New Year....

  That was after my hard drive was wiped out. So, I stopped keeping a journal, because I didn't know how skilled they were to break into my computer again. Although, they did eventually, two more times, and that's how I started carrying it with me non stop. Well, at least I give my arms an work out :)

  So, I was an on-off smoker. And due to my limited budget especially during college, I started buying loose tobacco. Because I wasn't smoking it fast enough, I kept it in refrigerator to prevent from drying. I would keep it for months, in a row. And when I felt like smoking I would roll myself a cigarette, and I was pretty good at it. That winter morning, only few days after my external hard drive was totally wiped out, I rolled myself a cigarette. I remember looking and feeling that tobacco, and thinking that it cracks in an unusual way, when I was rolling the cigarette. I thought, for a split second, that I must have kept it for too long. Must have been expired...(?)...I also noticed that I had a bigger quantities that I thought I had. If that came from "Santa" I can assure you that that "Santa" was very generous and not holding it back! Yeah, fucker Santa!

Smoking Kills! and YOU!! better believe it!
  I went out, light my cigarette , puff, puff, ....and to make the story short....within a minute I thought I was levitating. I was smoking nothing else but crack, which was criminally placed and mixed in my loose tobacco. At first I refused to believe it, but I felt the metal taste in my mouth, which reminded me of the taste of a boyfriend I had who was doing cocaine socially. And then, I totally spanned out of control. I only smoked a half of that cigarette. I said I had no prior experience with cocaine nor crack, but I'm not an idiot either. I didn't live in a monastery. I lived on two continents, I met lots of people, and I have seen a lot ... I also noticed how smoothly and white that cigarette was burning...Everyone who smokes tobacco knows that if you don't "nurse" it it goes out, and it never really burns smoothly. I used to keep on lighting a ciggarette several times, before throwing it out, half away through...Everything was completely out of the ordinary that day, and I was recording every details, while trying to tell myself not to believe what I see or feel. It was straight from a thriller, again, just few days after the computer shock. I was loosing it completely...
  I came back home get the tobacco from refrigerator and immediately threw it all away. I was literally shaken, I couldn't control my limbs at all. I was spiraling into an uncontrollable anxiety. I was fully aware but I couldn't control my body. I wanted to go to hospital, but I was aware too that this is exactly what those criminals who tempered with my tobacco wanted. Actually one of them that I called on that Sunday...told me to do just that. At that time I wasn't sure if he was part of this "cooperative" where they cooperate for the benefit of each other interests (to put it elegantly). I knew that I was  was set up to do exactly that! Getting a record that I'm doing something which was actually induced into my body without my knowledge. Later i would explain you in great detail how that would benefit Maria Baciu, and what was she planning to use that type of "man-made" record and trap that was lied to me! Will get there, too.
  Back to that day: I suffered without going to hospital because I knew that who put that drug into my tobacco must have had gloves on...and the only fingerprints on that envelope must be mine. And, I had that tobacco envelope for at least five months!

  I called my mother....for two hours I screamed on the phone that I have been drugged up and that they want to kill me. My body was like electrocuted. I have never ever in my life experienced such a thing.

  I didn't know what to do to get under that effect, but I was afraid to ask for help because by then, after the computer episode, I knew that they wanted to harm me really bad, and to make it look as an accident. So, to the minimum, I wasn't going to follow the script they have crinminally written for me...

  Eventually I collapsed, tired of shaking and screaming. I woke up to be surprised I was alive. I looked like shit, but alive, nonetheless. You need me to help spell it out? Some criminal hands entered my room, put cracked into my old good tobacco, and almost kill me in an overdose.

  For the record: Cristi is the only one which allegedly has key of this room, as I know it. I was not to change my lock, being told that is for emergency reason, and honestly I didn't mind it at all. It sounds like a good reasoning to me. Plus, I didn't have the budget to pay a locksmith and buy locks. At the end of my college I was already broke financially.  Yet, I made a record in my mind that nobody around here takes a piss without express Lady's permission. Now, I am not a district attorney and my job is not to ask questions nor to make justice. Yeah, I'd love to see that one day, sure. No doubt!  And I can venture the guess that each of them will point to the other and say they don't know anything, the other one must know. It's called passing the blame. Santa is sure not going to show up to defend himself. So, he might miraculously be held accountable while totally absent...  What I know is that not all of them can afford big fat lawyers, unless they will get a subsidized one from the benevolence of some "charitable person". I'd like to know who planned and conducted this plan of killing me, sure. I'm entitled to know it, to the minimum. Why?? That's a question I already know the answer, I don't need clarification. I am uncomfortably ethical and I have no intention to make some quick money by endangering my freedom nor other people lives. Like Mariana Baciu said long time ago, without knowing how right she proved to be: "She is not a good candidate" . And that came from her own mouth! Amen!!

 Today conclusion: My duty is to live and protect my life. I am not suicidal, by any accounts. I did everything to stay alive. So, that bullshit that I would ever want to kill myself is never gonna stand. Anyone who ever knew me can testify my optimism, my love for art, beauty, and fashion. I didn't even started to enjoy life, yet. I just prepared myself so far for the life I want to have. Yes, I had financial bumps in my road. But I've never had a dilemma about if I want to live or die. Although, in a different post I would talk about the depression that I experience after being traumatized like that. I came to understood why the soldiers come back from combat fields with Post Traumatic Stress Disorders or PTSD. Yes, our bodies can only take so much. And I know mine took a lot. And the proof that I have overcome a great deal of stress is that I am able to write al this, today, as painful as it feels....And still believe that I made any planned murder more difficult by living in her property, which now, by going to court, has been implicitly documented, and that stage, past winter, when she could have said that she never knew me, has long past....Living here, it actually shorten any lead, just as I said before, and had "put" me in a very safe position...Will explore....soon...
   My job is to stay true to the facts. To seek justice. And to help other potential victims which do not have a healthy body and mind as I do, next to a solid education and life preparations I received growing up, which have come very handy in my life journey...I personally have no mercy for criminals, in any shape and forms they may come. Psychopathy or Sociopathy shouldn't be an excuse for those ones to roam in the society freely and harm other's lives and careers, most of the time, as I came to learn, all seeded in an uncontrollable greed for money... All these troubles, man power and waist of an expensive drug must be motivated by something. It sure is!!!

How???


  I will come back....


 ** That was very intense, it took a lot from me just to write about it...Phew!!...