Our company still has not moved us into the garage in the same building. Getting to the garage after work is now like playing rugby: everybody with hands on shoulders, the big men on the flanks and front.

The legitamte homeless people, the real downtrodden ones—not the zombie stoners who pack up—are really getting hammered. Its horrible. Every time I look outside or come and go from work since the kids got out of school, I either see some homeless person limping, broken or beaten or in the process of being swarmed by these twelve and thirteen year old kids. One man was just laying bleeding and still. I wanted to cry.

A local businessman was beaten almost to death earlier this week. They didn't just take his stuff, but beat him to a pulp. I've seen hundreds of attacks, dozens of cops, but never an arrest. One of the cops told us it doesn't matter, that it's a waste of time locking up minors because the judge lets them out the next day.

My day care provider had to tell this other and father—two white people—that she would no longer care for their children because they drop them off for 14 hours instead of ten and that they never bring formula for the baby. The husband threatened to kill her, and all of our kids. I can't even go shopping with Emily. This Sunday some creepy man was touching Emily—she's not even two and this man, this stranger, is putting hands on her. Thank God Mom [Megan] was there. She drove him off. This stuff never happens when her father is around, but he's in rehab again.

The world has simply gone insane. It's no longer safe to go anywhere without a man.

Recognizing and Surviving the Condition of Anarcho-Tyranny