I did not share this E-Update here, due to its explicit nature, but I will now because of the sheer amounts of people, and Asian/-American women, specifically, who have been brutalized and sexualized, raped, and worse, at the hands of men of the majority demographic here and violent, bad men, in general, who just have it in them to do, to spread that rape, for example, has no cliched way about it, other than it's forced when you had no intention, before, during, or after. It is for every one of us to decide how to use our Goddess Power after that happens because, likely, there's no preparing for it. Like me, you may have thought that, perhaps, you were far too astute &/or Protected by larger forces for anything like it to happen, period.
With a world going mad, however, from hurts unrepented for and self-mastery NOT owned by individuals everywhere, and the deterioration of the family structure as sacred to all things healthy, immaculate, and on the up & up, I want to tell you to "just say no" to any male who gives you any kind of weird feeling, if you can help it. As you can see, I was literally floating at sea without a rope from anyone--except my attacker. There is no reason that this should've happened to someone of my Purpose in the United States, in the Midwest, in 2016.
As of the publishing of this piece, though it is now almost a year & a half old, the (East) St. Paul Police have staunchly done nothing about the "helper" I named here and in my original detailing of the situation, citing that I "didn't go to a hospital" and "had a consensual sexual relationship afterward" with my attacker, which is as demonic as the act itself. No one has a right to tell you how to fall apart, even if for a moment. Everyone dies differently.
I was actually advised that it might be more advantageous to getting him locked up if I'd have chosen to "lose it" by doing what everyone else does, which is likely do something highly unadvisable to him under all forms of Spiritual Law. In the situation, I think the other form had already become a joke, after Dubuque and Red Wing. I thanked my advisor and simply said I'd remember that.
Hopefully, as both the young, female Investigator here, and the also-young, female Riverview Center Advocate were, it will become clear thru your reading exactly what happened to me on this leg of my Minnesota Male Predator Tour(, though all the wonderful people I met up there must not be dismissed), how things unfolded, and, remarkably (in a bad way), that this is further proof of the low-I.Q. thing people and, outrageously, authorities do to "victimize the victim," especially if the assailant has ties to Law Enforcement, as is the case here in the person with a serial problem (His father).
My wonder is how many of the representatives of the Sex Crimes unit in Minnesota's lead city have, also, made it their "thing" to prey on, perhaps, the Hmong or Korean-American adoptee community females up there, in plentiful amounts, and call it nothing. At least that would explain their completely dismissing powerful, courageous, and corroborating leads since, as we know, even the most badly attacked oftentimes are so whacked by what's just happened they would rather die inside than let anyone know about it, especially if they're afraid of the guy.
And so, I have no choice but to simply wish all of their daughters, mothers, aunts, girlfriends, and spouses, 100% RAPED. Since it's no big deal, and they clearly don't get it. One way to find out...
Enjoy.
-----Original Message-----
On Being Amy Jin Schmelzer, Authentically, In The United States Of America: Final Words Of Parting
Some of you were aware during my evacuation of my former practitioner's scary one-bedroom apartment, from which I thought I would be beginning my first Power Yoga/spiritual school, that when I was finally reunited with all of my stolen belongings, the family heirloom I'd been given by a special follower of my work in Kansas City turned up as the first destroyed possession, literally within a day or two of Journalist James Foley?'s beheading, missing its head (The wing busted off during a mysterious tip of the same tote after I'd been relegated to the basement here)--a child angel its giver always said reminded her of me, & that it was a treasure in her family, and she wanted me to have it--She knew I'd take good care of it.
This morning, a perfectly fine morning after a difficult past month being back in Dubuque and at Buffalo Wild Wings, dealing with & actually overturning?!! more bullying, bullshit stuff there, after literally just feeling like I couldn't do it anymore--life, that is--but somehow doing it, trying to get the St.Paul Police Department to do something with the rape report I filed upon my return, with the prompt help of Investigator Kate Avenarius, my friends in the Community-Oriented Police, who, as you may remember, also helped me to deal with being alive and bringing my landlord situation last & in the very beginning of this year, to an end, and an advocate from the Riverview Center, still lifting the Unemployment corruption with Kwik Stop and The Dubuque Community YM/YWCA/the System itself into District Court Review, now working with the Attorney General's Office of The State of Minnesota to get the racist old woman at Jule's Cleaners, JoAnn Carlson, who destroyed my yoga pants to own up, waiting on Judge Noel, also at Dubuque District Court, to DECIDE the Oct.17th case I returned here for from St.Paul, to bring Lott and Mueller to Justice, which has been overdue since Halloween, according to his own words on when he would send his Decision out...Anyway, similar to discovering my mail had been thrown out by Sarah-Mom and Sam-Dad & then having my only Marketing interview on the bleak landscape of nothingness destroyed by them, throwing me, like possessed demons, into Safe Strides Women's Shelter for getting upset about it, saying I said I'd burn down the house, which I didn't, but it worked for them to say I did, which I had to help bring down & shutter (Happy to assist), this morning, like I said, a fine day off from the restaurant after 6 days on, where Sam came & sat down with ME at the breakfast counter discussing life & the few details of my staying here that needed minor recognition to be pretty fine & dandy otherwise, turned into Sarah coming home again from somewhere, my getting up, at some point, & stating I'd like to buy the paper products for both bathrooms I use--WRONG thing to say!!! It was one lie, contradiction, & violent bullshit boulder thrown at me after another. It's not MY bathroom (even though she calls it that all the time, & even though, in my mind, it only used to be when it still felt like a place that was pure, before I was brutally attacked here on a daily basis). Etc. Etc. All of a sudden, my having my period is DISGUSTING--No one wants to look at my BLOODY TAMPONS. She needs it to be ready for guests, so I shouldn't even use the garbage or put anything on the counter. I'm starting to float away as I'm being told that I can only change my tampons in the BASEMENT (This is being yelled in the house, out loud, in front of everyone--again, because I'd offered to buy the tissues & the toilet paper). She can tell I'm trying to "weasel" into their house again when I come up & "hang out," like the destitute, worthless piece of Asian-American shit I am (not the bullied-out Executive--or "Ghandi" or "Jesus Christ"--especially because of them), in the morning and have COFFEE (even though she offers it & sometimes straight gives it to me). Tag team--I have no respect for them. I need to stay in the cage--I mean the basement!!! They were screaming & raging to the point where it was clear Sam was going to--What, Sam? Get up out of his chair & kill me? So I told them that's it's over. When she wasn't making faces at me (again), like the dumb, ugly, outcast kid on the playground, she responded, "Oh yeah--That's what you always say!"
Now, on to the rape. I promised I would say something about that, & it's not going to be as flowy poetic as the way I was going to say it, simply because I don't know that anyone out there's worth that time or talent spent. So I'll say--irony: I was going to put something up on the website during the John Miller (who's stalking--I mean "following"--www.WhatItIsPowerYoga.blogspot.com as we speak, on Google) to Brett Albarado (who's only 1/4 Mexican, by the way, depending on which day you talk to him--in case there was even a QUESTION about Race in this situation. I'm more Latina--by other people's kudos--than he is Hispanic. He, in fact, hated his own ancestry until I got a hold of him, after which he not only went to Mexico but started to engage more with other Hispanics without making crap out of his own people, looks like mostly because of my influence. His dad, who's the 1/2 Mexican aspect of Brett's bloodline, was obsessed with meeting me while I was in Red Wing--Never happened. Oddly, I think it bugged Brett that during the 1st phone conversation his dad finally was able to have with me, by his request, he told me about his ancestry, his experience with racial discrimination, cheered me on, told me he thought I was an outstanding person, from what he sensed, & that he totally understood what I've been thru--things he'd never even told his son. He was currently being racially bullied, at 70something? at the Christian camp where he was working in Maintenance, also, on a regular basis) to Grant LaRock's house(-)trek to evacuate Dubuque/Sam & Sarah which said, "Ladies, you don't owe them ANYTHING!!!"--which meant simply that.
Amy Jin
A Physical Example Of The Current Level Of Yoga In The United States Of America
Note: Though questionable at the outset, with definite signs of concern noticed by me within their ranks, since, as alluded to or mentioned in past writings or details on this website, I want to mention that my trust in and friendship with Captain Kevin Klein and his connections within the Force helped me to connect with St.Paul and Law Enforcement there to file the report, once I had reached some kind of safety back in Dubuque, at the time. I felt that their help, as well as the involvement of Investigator Avenarius and the Riverview Center, was efficient and lacking in superfluousness. There are other officers and 1st Responders, also, though less common, whom I have met on this journey who have also impressed me in various attributes valuable to Love Yoga: The Movement and my personal standards of excellence. For the professional love, witness, and wisdom they have shown, beyond the cliched ideas of what makes, e.g., "a good cop," gratitude & eternal protection. May you find a way to teach & spread your amazingness.
From: EternalLove47
To: *The Love Yoga: The Movement In-Transition E-Update List/Everyone At The Time*
Sent: Tue, Dec 2, 2014 2:49 am
Subject: ***Final Words From Amy Jin--Amy Jin & Love Yoga: The Movement, M/12.1.2014***
***Image of the Reading Cherub, With Its Head & Wing Sitting Next To It***
The Gift From The Congregation Leader At The Unity Church Of Overland Park Who Followed My Spiritual Teaching In Kansas City Previously E-Updated About & Written About On The Love Yoga: The Movement Website
Even more bizarre was that it didn't appear ripped or broken off by a chaotic, runaway maniac, as was the path it traveled the night Brett took off with half of my stuff with (My Norweigan & German-American, former 1st Responder superhero) & I chasing after him thru the streets of Red Wing, but that it seemed to be popped off on purpose & perfectly placed at the feet of its body, with nothing else in the clear Rubbermaid container disturbed. As also previously mentioned, the apartment, here in Dubuque, landlord'd by Julie Lott & her father, Bob Mueller, saw a similar scene--We'll call both coincidence--where my trashed apartment with stolen/missing stuff, including one of my 1st pieces of gold jewelry from the people who used to be my parents, also saw the only room that went virtually untouched--my bedroom (other than the stolen bracelet that was laying on top of socks & lingerie in an open duffle bag in there)--receive a...head. A random Barbie doll head with no body laid perfectly just beyond the threshhold of my bedroom, when I returned to complete my move-out, after the door had been left wide open by the landlord/thief Kanndo/fix-it guys.
So today, I mean it. I'm looking into going to Seoul to finally find out who my "real" family is in June, however, now the original extension of hope about there being a way to fund the part we have to cover (This is a "scholarship"/V.I.P. thang), which is the airfare, now there's not. Or something. I'm thinking maybe then I can make connections to go & not come back. Since, as of today, I'm no longer the daughter of Sam & Sarah Schmelzer & will be really clear to everyone about that. I will not be participating in their family events. Aunts & cousins on this list, they were told to contact you and the person who used be my only sister, but I'm quite sure they didn't, to let you know. For your information, I'm happy to continue a relationship with you but with you as you, me as me. Please disseminate this information. Because I will be going by "Amy Jin." And Schmelzer--until I gain stellar representation or have the knowledge necessary to end this--likely in court--once and for all. Potentially find a new family??? LOL--W. T. F. I will, at that time, likely move my Middle Name to my First Name field legally and possibly choose a new Surname, if at all. And hold them accountable for devastating the part of my journey that they have, which is the root core of the worst times of my life on the planet.
My hope is to continue to spread my Messages, tell my story to as many people as possible who may be instrumental in bringing the insanity I have seen, been tortured by, and held back by to a permanent end and so that it may empower people to grow strong in ending it within themselves and where it externally harms their own lives.
Sam and Sarah will now be simply that. They tell me people continue to wonder "why I haven't left yet" and insinuate that there are still piece-of-shit cretins out there who would DARE utter a thing about me now, after everything this life has shown me, in the face of what I have given it--and I'm quite sure they're Roman Catholic hypocrites (from my upbringing?) or people without a God, other than their own insufficient egos, maybe who used to be the "friends and neighbors" that raised me, who are as ignorant and whole-heartedly racist as Adolf Hitler himself, but not a fraction as intelligent or charismatic. And I'm dead serious when I say that, after today, you can see me outside. I'm over teaching or telling or sharing anything, other than what Source God dictates & how, as minimally as possible where it doesn't overwhelmingly prosper me. I will not hesitate to physically or otherwise defend myself, my Mission, and the only pure people I know who are left or who exist, as always, now more than ever without hesitation. I HATE all of you out there who are split, fake, talk smack behind my back, SPAM instead of respond back to not receive these e-mails, or who have run, like fucking pussies, to the wretched pieces of shit now running "yoga studios" in this town--or any other I've lived in, who are feeding your egos and faking their power by stealing from the few rare of us who are actually Pure and Real. I will KILL you if you attempt to further destroy my life, thru the most powerful Gifts vested in me, as a direct descendent of the Light. You do not deserve to live. Your Darkness is already coming to eat you alive, if it's not already.
Similarly, this E-Update List also dies tonite. My concerns have officially joined yours, but at my level, which is to focus primarily, & only, really, on one thing, which is my own health, due, including financial, & self-preservation. I am quite positive the real, non-Extended Family version is going, as well, but I haven't deleted it quite yet. If it does re-emerge, it will be when there are people who are all-around amazing enough to learn from what it is I do and represent and WHO CAN BE TRUSTED AND CAN STAY THE COURSE. One Doubting Thomas killed Jesus. I've had dozens.
And I'm still here.
It never got put up, due to the phone/Internet-less trap of Mr.Albarado's residence, and the subsequent fight for my life in Minnesota.
Then, all those conversations about the room he had for rent where, really, the only exposed weird thing Grant asked me during all the questions about what he sensed was happening to me "down there (meaning Red Wing)"/in general was "Are you tall?" It struck me as weird, but I said, "Yeah...Why." It wasn't a question. He straightened up right away. He revealed he had a Latina, now an Asian, fetish after we'd started talking nightly when I told him I needed to find a safe place to go from David Culver's house in Bay City (after evacuating Brett's eviction & subsequent taking & destruction of my things, stranding me in a foreign state--Need I say "WITHOUT A YOGA SHALA?!!!"), when things got instantly creepy there, as well, & even Grant was getting upset about it all the way up in St.Paul, "Is that guy trying to get in your business & even keep you from getting your phone calls?!!!?" (There was also conversation about, "You don't have 'friends' or a family that cares about any of this???"--& not just by Grant--for years now). It didn't matter. He may have told me on the way up to his looks-like-Brett's-but-a-house, maybe as he was trying not to panic when he noticed there was a cop following him hard, as we were leaving Red Wing, which struck me as strange, especially knowing his dad was a former one. Did this guy steal something recently? Something else? I was just happy to get the hell out of Red Wing/Bay City & the local law enforcement that looked happy to participate & tell me Brett was my boyfriend--not realizing I'd already thrown up my feet the 1st time they insinuated it, not actually SAID it. While they were bullying me, trying to fuck me up mentally. Would've worked if I couldn't see their souls marching straight to hell since those involved dared to look directly into my eyes when they were doing/saying it.
The "spare room"--Another room which, legally, wasn't even a room since it really didn't have a real window--or something--that I arrived at at the butt crack of dawn, like I told him I didn't WANT to arrive at at his vampire hours was full of crap. He'd just lost another job but didn't bother moving stuff out of it & seemed kind of, like, perturbed but then impressed & surrendered to the laser beamness with which I cleared, cleaned, then moved myself into it, demanding a sheet for a door. "Why do you need a door?" "BeCAUSE."
Invitations to sleep with him were then not even invitations but "like DUH's" that I just shook my head at as I set up my monk's cave. "There's a bed in here. It's the only place to watch TV..."
The guy was doing something that evoked the amazement & honor out of me that some of you do--or did--my practitioners & other genuinely good people. He was helping to save my life. And keep me from returning to every other place that had tried to smote me out previously, including Dubuque/Iowa/whereverland. So when he kept trying to playfully make moves on me in passing in his house or made comments about whatever--body, looks, sexiness, blahblahblah...I'd toss him the football back in terms of diverting the energy but keeping it cool between us, making it clear I loved my Path, & that's why I was there, & that I wasn't really attracted to him that way.
Was it one of the 1st nights I was there? I took a break & trusted him to watch the News, which I missed from home, in his "living room" bedroom, conveniently, where he kept the only TV set up, even though there was another one in the living room where I did my practice every day (not set up or welcome 2 be). It was either that night or the night of the rape exactly a week later, since it was premeditated, on September 19th, my former sister's birthday & Wedding Anniversary both (more sick irony) that he asked if I wanted to help him polish off a bottle of Merlot? that he was trying to get rid of. (Kate,) it was that night. Pretty sure now. I was very quietly aware of all the possibilities in his asking & in terms of implications. It was late, I was in crisis, he was heavily attracted to me, I was already fending off physical unwanted advances during the day...but he was acting hands-off now, & the mood felt light & friendly & adult & almost professional. He made a comment about how I "looked nice" & always looked classy, dressed up--how he didn't. I told him I didn't really drink, but since he was a Bartender who was tied into some pretty awesome places in the Twin Cities, & he may be instrumental in even helping me secure income in Food/Beverage, I was like, "All right--I'll try a glass to see what it's like--What kind is it?" Friendly conversation over the state of the world turned, after I'd put my glass down, into his picking me up like a child, & throwing me back (No: 'on') onto his bed. I thought it was kind of funny. I saw him as being like my older brother, which I'd thought for a long time now would've been nice to have, since he was 5 years(?) older than I was, who kind of looked like Adam Levine when he didn't look like a really, really bad version of himself, most days. He started telling me about how hot I was, what he wanted to do to me, tried kissing me, taking articles of clothes off. I kept putting them back on & tried to figure out if it was a situation worth totally excusing myself from or just a wrestling match that would end up with both of us laughing & becoming best friends.
He ended up doing a number of things to me that I was half into but that he was working, with every intent, to break down my resistances on. I could tell that if I was going to stay there, and this sudden redirection of intention (Original: roommates, friends who could help each other, finally same generation, help ea. other find work--Now: ???) was going to persist, I was going to have to figure out what to do--and before Fall turned to Winter. That awareness was already there upon arrival. I realized I was still in "danger." I said something like, "All right. I can tell what you want...and let's do that once. And then, that's it. You keep your promise, help me get my life back, help me get my Movement up & running, like you said you wanted to, & I'll let you have what you want. Once. And after that, we will not be physically involved whatsoever, ever again. Just rolldogs or just cool. That's all." A look of dread spread over his face, "WHaaaAAT??? NO WAY! I wouldn't just want to do that with you once. There's no way." Exact answer I knew would come out of him. "O-kay, then, so then this is it. That's it. Done deal."
When physical advances became more annoying & hardcore around his house, I started not even stopping in to peek at the News, every so often, & made sure to retreat to my now-forted room relatively early, despite constant invitations made purposefully innocent to watch "Jimmy Fallon" or whatever--a movie.
The night I gave him the previously mentioned ultimatum, he kept talking about, "I don't want to rush into this with you--" "What's 'this?'" I kept asking. He just proceeded to talk out loud, as if I wasn't there, "In one week. I'm going to--(whatever he said indicating sexual intercourse)." I was like, "Uh, I don't think so. No."
He's learning more about me, my practice, is somewhat honoring of it, has a great hardwood floor. He's a total asshole in so many ways that most, if not all, guys AND people in my life have not been--much less in regard to "helping" someone in my situation. Whatever. He's not anything to me other than someone who's at least allowed me to stay in Minnesota & try & find work. I minded my own business. Watched as his life got better around me, mainly because I was helping that along in both presence and active assistance.
And so was mine in that I found (almost) full-time work, as he foretold, before he did (& never did).
On Friday night, I may have procured the job at SAKANA Sushi & Asian Bistro (I had to kind of do that behind his back) by then, I was in my own zone, doing whatever in my room. When he came back from the 1 or 2 shifts he finally started securing with D'Amico Catering, or wherever he'd been, it vaguely crossed my mind that the night was the night he'd said he was going to whatever with me. I heard him shower, run around lighting candles. I kind of smiled & rolled my eyes, almost from a cloud, looking down on him. Thru my fort door, he was like, "Hey, you should--(whatever was on TV, or whatever he was trying to get me to do in his room)." I probably responded I was good but ended up going in there to see whatever he was talking about later, feeling safe enough, at the time, to sit on the end of his bed to do so since he was still running around between the bathroom & his room & whatever--the kitchen--doing whatever.
AND, as out of the blue as the 1st thing had been, I was grabbed & pushed/thrown back on his bed, but this time, the tone was different. He took off his robe, which revealed he only had on boxers. His nipples were pierced. He had tattoos. Of the marathons he had run. His daughter's name. I was like, "What the @$#%@#%?!!!" I'm trying to read tattoos & understand who this fella was, while grabbing onto the back of my bra, while saying, "HEY!"--at first, kind of just frustrated, but then on the verge of angry. It turned into an athletic wrestling match similar to the 1st night but more intense. I could see in his eyes that I wasn't even there, to him. My body was. And he was on a Mission that I didn't want to be a part of.
This is kind of stupid--how it happened. Which is that my back was pushed against a wall when, with forearms & elbows & pinning me, then tossing me when I'd change position to try & pull something back on or reach for something else, I thought I found an escape route, which I was definitely starting to decide I needed to start looking for. I didn't think he would try to force himself on me, but he'd already stuck his hands & his fingers everywhere possible to literally make it impossible for me to leave, & when I realized it would be violence to not absorb or surrender to it to some extent (meaning there would be blood when there didn't need to be), my body actually responded to his strong desire to make me enjoy what he was doing so I'd want more of it. He was laying on his back between me & the door & had just tossed the skirt--or my top--across the room, towards wall with the door into the hallway on it. So I headed quickly after it, attempting to crawl over him, assuming he'd just let me go when he could clearly see that I didn't want to be participating at all. Instead, as I attempted to cross over him, he took my hips, kind of pulling them more directly over his & me more directly over him, & BOOM! He pulled me down onto him in a direct hit, and I was like, "NO #$@#$%ing WAY." He's just forced me down onto him in what was maybe several thrusts. He ejaculates. No condom. Wrecking my perfect, clean sex, one way or another, record, and by choice, when it occured. David Culver & his friends had simply called me abstinent. I'd been assaulted, or come at far too aggressively, both, in recent years, but this?!
I'll cut to the chase. I laid back. He could see the disbelief on my face. And then, get this, he goes, "Oh, I'm not finished with you yet! You're SO hot...I'll be right back!" Something like that. I stared at the ceiling, "I just got raped."
Swimming in a sea of energy, building building building. Did not have emotions but required decision. I wanted to die. I gave up on everything then. I was too high to even judge him. Just remembered feeling he was a sick, sick, heartless, LOW being who did not know, would never know Love. And I did. And always had. I shouldn't have told him in some of our earlier conversations I could make myself climax with the power of my mind, alone, using no thought and without physical stimulation. I meant to indicate I didn't need him--or even sex--because I had transcended both. Instead, perhaps, it enticed him to rape me & tap into that. Literally. I was just trying to teach him that there are greater powers in the world, & within our vehicles, than what he currently understood.
I decided if I was going to die, I would go out Loving. So when he came back, I participated--kind of--because I wanted to say, in my mind, that I was choosing to get something good out of it, which was to use touch and that kind of interaction in a way which came from purity, Source Love, and the fire of a woman at choice.
And it continued to build, until maybe the next day--or the next time it occurred, relatively soon.
And so I f**ked his brains out, basically.
And, then, he was the one laying there, on his back, not saying anything. Until his next-door neighbor, Khan, came by, wanting to kill him (and rightfully so) again, for doing criminal trespass creative landscaping on his and the other next-door neighbors' yards, in the dark, at night, and they figured out it was him, and he'd been hiding from them ever since, which I'd already helped diffuse when I first got there (They were all African-American, & it was openly discussed there was racial tension in what had happened). So I got up, ran my fingers thru my hair, & went to the door, "Hi, Khan--What's up?" He was freaking. I said I was on his side & to not worry--Grant had already conceded what he'd done was wrong. He has a MAJOR issue with boundaries, though, I said, & I would encourage him to talk to him (Khan) directly about what had happened.
Done.
I went back & plopped down next to Grant, who was still staring at the ceiling. The mood was completely different. He was all about neurotic obsessing about the neighbor situation.
I was in danger.
Upon danger.
Upon danger.
And had finally escaped, my body still unscathed. To his house.
And he used being younger & barely better looking than all the others to rape me.
So I said this, "Now, I'm going to say what needs to be said, and things are going to be very different."
"Huh--What??"
"We're here right now because YOU. RAPED. ME."
My voice got louder, and decision to love, with my heart screaming bloody murder turned to booming anger, "What needs to happen is you need to speak to someone about why you're an Asian female predator. I don't know who or how many people--I hope to God there are none or not many--you've done this sort of thing to before. And look at why someone who could, potentially, have a lot to give in terms of everything from looks to intellectual capability to simply being a good person, would need to get laid by forcing himself on someone." After I finished my Lesson for the day, I admonished him from touching another woman of my Race ever again, got up, & said, "You're never going to touch me again." It might've been directly after--or within 24 hours--that I strongly encouraged him to crunch some numbers and let me know what he might want me to contribute monetarily to being there to keep everything crystal clear.
It's clear he didn't do that--and because the unspoken thing on the tip of his tongue he kept not saying eventually also disappeared, which was, couldn't he continue to destroy everything that was sacred, rather than charge me Rent?
That's when the Thai girl he'd been talking to online showed up--He wasn't going to "do anything with her" (but she would be sleeping with him in the same bed I'd just told him he'd raped me in a day or so before)--out a nanny job, needing a place to stay, also now illegal, despite my now physical screams of bloody murder that that NOT OCCUR. U all know how that went down. At least my e- pushed her out after 2 days, instead of several.
Ladies, if they want you, and you don't want them, even with your conviction alone, no matter what your body, or even your head says, & they take it, that's. Called. RAPE.
The one thing the Owner of SAKANA S & AB did (who was maybe 26?, give or take a couple years?), when everyone there found out about what'd happened, & they were trying to see about my moving into the "SAKANA house" because of it, when I told him about how I'd handled it, was he just looked me in the eyes with gentle strength & said, "Yes--Just see it as a one night stand." Then he truly comforted me with the silence that followed...when we were both present to the knowing that nothing in the world could make it that, even if we both wanted it to be.
Just like all those jobs & places I've been attacked or discriminated out of. Including the only family I have ever known.
And, because of that, everyone, that's all she wrote.
***Images of the Stalker Candles in Brett Albarado's Apartment That Were of Both Voodoo(, Not Power Yoga) & Obsessed Fan Nature--With My Name "+," Unfortunately, His On Them. Ironically, Just Like The Red Wing Bluff I'd Asked About, Coming Into Town***
On Finding These While Brushing My Teeth At Brett Albarado's House, While I Was There To, From What I Was Told, Open Up My First Spiritual/Power Yoga Shala: The Only Thing Worse Than The Feeling Of Being Forced To Run For Your Life Is Discovering That The Safe Place You Find, After U Have No More Energy Left To Run, Is Actually A Trap
\
Amy Jin Schmelzer
"Every soul comes to give something to a generation, and every generation has a soul purpose. What have U come to show? What will the legacy of your generation be?"
www.WhatItIsPowerYoga.blogspot.com
***Headshot Image of Me Standing in the Kitchen in Asbury***
