Tuesday, 9 April 2013

This is not funny.

You know you live in an "upper-middle-class" white neighborhood when you are considered a suspect in a daylight robbery case for walking around wearing a hoodie and sunglasses.

It's almost like the Trayvon case, only instead of the neighborhood watch, it was [township name] police and instead of gun, it was a savage German Shephard police dog (K9 unit), a police cruiser, a patrol car, and a whole lot of intimidation techniques, including targeting exhibited weaknesses such as a) fear of dogs, b) panic disorder, and c) years of institutionalized oppression.

And instead of being black, the suspect is guilty of being slightly less WASP-y looking than the rest of the residents, and he was talking on an expensive smartphone, which indicates that he is either planning a robbery or selling drugs, because people who wear black and have long hair and piercings and facial hair are criminals, especially if they look masculine.


I am SO glad I get a full tax refund.

Our schools suck, our roads may as well be made of cobblestones and bits of broken glass, and our police department has nothing better to do on a bright Sunday afternoon than bring three on-duty patrol vehicles (including the K9 unit) to confront a twenty-year-old going for a walk...because he was going for a walk..and utilize every intimidation technique in the book to make sure he is beaten down and knows his place, and scared enough that he wouldn't dare lodge a complaint, because he looks like an easy target and with all those pockets on his pants it would be simple to plant an ounce of weed on him. Maybe more!

Isn't it sad that we are FORCED to support "law enforcement" like this?


I'm terrified right now, because if you couldn't guess, the "suspect" named above was/is me.

I already have a terrible fear of law enforcement, which is exactly what they want. They intimidate people into keeping quiet, just like a good servant of a nanny state ought to.

I'm sick of it, though. I am targeted, and I even made the mistake of telling them I have panic attacks and I'm afraid of dogs.

I had a complete panic attack and nervous breakdown, in broad daylight, on the road in front of my house, and the police officer asked if I needed an ambulance, and I guess I said no, so he drove away, leaving me there on the ground hyperventilating and unable to see, hear, or speak clearly.

The worst part is that I don't remember his name. Joe, I think. Last name was Italian. Bald. Or balding? Big guy. Instantly scary. I wish I could have run away, but he probably would have shot me. I was at the bottom of my driveway. My house. Where I live. I wish I could have run away. I should have. I should have run as soon as I saw police anything. But they would shoot me. There is absolutely nothing to say they wouldn't, and here's why:

I said I was having a panic attack. I managed to choke those words out. If a panic attack is not interrupted (and there are many ways so to do), it can cause a myriad problems relating to oxygen deprivation and extreme hormonal/neurotransmitter influx. A serious panic attack can turn into cardiac arrest if not treated. It is a medical issue. It is a health concern. It is clear and present danger with regards to the individual. 

And the police drove away. 

They left me there, on the ground, gasping for breath, sweating bullets on a 35-degree day in wintertime.

They are liable for so many things. They can lose their jobs, their careers, their pensions, their badges, their firearms licenses, their benefits, their tax breaks, and their diplomatic immunity (let's get real here, connections get you places). 

They can be liable for lots of money in damages. 

If only I knew how to complain, and to whom, and about what.

I am too scared, though. I am too scared that they will laugh at me, or arrest me for badmouthing the police, or for thought crimes, or plant weed on me (don't deny that it happens, again, let's get real). I'm also scared that the more likely situation would come true - that they'd simply deny it.

And since it's the word of a police officer against the word of a mentally disabled, unemployed 20-year-old college dropout, well...you can probably guess how that would go.


On 5 April 2013, between 1300h and 1830h, a home in [my neighborhood] was burglarized. The suspect(s) stole jewellery from the master bedroom as well as "items" from the rest of the house after forcing the door in.

The police seriously suggested "don't keep your jewellery in the master bedroom."

What the actual fuck? That sounds an awful lot like "she was dressed like she was asking for it." Like, seriously, how reactionary can you get?! Holy shit. It's 2013.

The suspect(s) remain at large.


I'm going to hide out places and try and catch the actual burglar(s).

In the unlikely scenario they target our house (it might look like an easy target, but it also doesn't look like there's anything valuable inside, because there's not, and the other houses look empty and richer in general because they are both) I crave the opportunity to jump them and viciously attack them for their crimes against me. It's because of people like them that I am being intimidated into not going for walks around my own damn neighborhood in broad daylight. I can instantly think of several weapons in my room alone and a multitude downstairs (we have three knife blocks in the kitchen...three...really?)

After all, it's probably just some kid in a hoodie.

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