And if you think I’m crazy, just wait and read this story.

I gave up fighting a system that doesn’t want me—or my freedom.

I know I’m too American and too wild. And being American and wild in a socialist-controlled country means you’re “bad.”

Bad for not obeying.
Bad for doing things your own way.
Bad for auditing everything, for keeping things in check—just to keep yourself and your family safe—when socialism wants to do it for you.

Damn it—but NO!

So I’m “bad”… without ever being bad.

The system wants you down.
Colleagues want you down to please the system.
Even family wants you down to please some key corrupt official and enjoy a few socialist perks.

And you keep saying:
NO. NO.

It’s my freedom.
My choices.
My life.

And this is how it should be—not dirty persuasion, manipulation, control, and mind games to break me down.

And the CARROT! LOL.

You know me—I said it a long time ago:
F you and your dirty intelligence service games—and your dirty style of interviews.

How many have I had by now? HUNDREDS.

I’m guilty of what?
For being part of a system that messed me up?
Not “socialist enough”?
So I’m just a “dirty American nurse”?

Same answer every time:
F you and your tactics.
Mind games. Intimidation.

Organized crime uses the same tactics.
No big difference.

I’ve had enough of their crazy minds.

And the CARROT—oh, the carrot dressed itself up again, like always.

What can you do with a carrot that plays the art of deception—gangstalking people, messing around?

And me—at my age and with my teeth—I only eat carrots in soup!
Ha ha ha!

Maybe I should start a new career—as a coach.

Coaching intelligence agents, police officers, CI operatives, gangs, cartels, and organized crime members on how to behave properly and how not to be STUPID.

Because stupid can hurt.
Stupid can hurt themselves—and others.
Stupid and crazy!

Lesson 1:
NEVER—and I mean NEVER—stop a conversation when someone walks by you.
NEVER.

Especially if you’re in “action” (whatever kind of action that may be, bros—good or bad).
Keep talking. Keep that damn conversation going.

Because if you stop?
I’ll count the pause in seconds.
I’ll analyze it in real time.
And you’re burned. Cooked. Screwed.
(No more words left for that. LOL.)

What’s wrong with these people?
Are they that confident in themselves doing this?
Or are they just batshit crazy?

Because if they’re crazy and messing around, I can call the police.

Well—at least the ones I already trained. LOL.

Because I don’t even like carrots.
Even in soup, I take them out!
Didn’t they write that in my big “intelligence file”?
“The crazy wild U.S. RN doesn’t like carrots!” LOL.

We can’t protect everyone, and we can’t teach everyone.
But when you meet—within 500 meters—two organized crime members, one intelligence agent, and a dozen cars doing surveillance?

That’s too much.

Are they insane?
What do they expect to find?
Baba Vanga? Mata Hari? Pablo Escobar in a thong?

These people are insane!

And as I walk among them, I keep asking myself:
“Dear God, what did I do wrong to be part of this?
Who did I meet?
Why me, God?”

And He didn’t answer.
And maybe He never will.

So I’ll keep living this overprotected life—on the edge of craziness and normality—still hoping that one day, I’ll have a normal life.

Because I am normal.

I’m not part of anyone’s game.
I’m just different. I was born this way.

It’s my gift. My ability.

So keep your games and your mess out of my life.