It is 1:19am. I am outside, tired, I have bruises on my back and I have people following me around in cars.

I was told to leave, which I did. I was told I would have help.

Here is the help I received: I sat on a bench and fell asleep.

I am in the slums here.

My hands are sore from carrying things:

I am ready to harm something.

I looked for an apartment, a car, with no luck.

They tossed this card on the ground in front of me like I am a dog, and told me to use it.

They also tossed a silver key in front of me.

Whoever it is I cannot see. But I have someone following me in cloak and it is a black man.

They are trying to set me up.

I heard someone cry out earlier that they did the same thing to him, and he killed a ghost and they trapped him.

I heard the one cloaked talking, and saw him go under a bush outside at CVS, and when I walked over to see who it was there was noone there.

Noone is helping me that is what I am saying. It is free, and they refuse to help me.


So, now I know not to trust the voice in my heart, because it led me here standing in pain for how many years.

I was told not to whine.

Jacob Is-a-reel.

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