paying hackers to target an innocent individual is such a horrid thing

It’s been such a bleak winter. Nursing my rescue kitty for weeks to some kind of good health where he can enjoy his new life. It drained me as I was not great myself. I sat up all night with him for so long to help him breath. I really thought he would not survive but at least if I lost Billy, he knew the world is not such a cruel place. Fortunately, he is now a healthy, loved, and happy cat. My main aim for the colder months, to help my family in ways I am able. We all have our responsibilities. But this winter has been awful.

My mobile and laptop have been hacked. I am not sleeping and I wonder how or why any person could find the time to spy on me, since my real life is very dull and quiet. It’s turned my entire existence into a private stage show for a cowardly person who clearly has too much time on their hands and it’s cruel.

I have had such loving support from people who are aware of the ongoing problem but it still does not help me to feel any kind of quality of life. What hurts most is that I am not jealous or overly interested in anybody’s activities enough to want to destroy their lives. I stick with my bucket list and sense of freedom. The ability to implement spyware is so easy nowadays and I wonder how many people are also affected by it. Sometimes, it’s better not to know as to avoid the over-thinking and depressed state it can bring to the target.

When you change your mobile number, a hacker still has a back entrance into your phone. And cyber hacking is so advanced, you can get into anything if you can afford to pay for it. It’s the cruelest form of hunting there is.

All I can say to any stalker is not everyone is going to like you or want you around. So be kind in life and let the fanatical patterns go to find a better future, less the ill intentions. Life’s too short anyway. Bringing misery has nothing to feel proud about.

Currently, there are no specially trained units to detect and protect the victims of stalking. Statistics reveal, only 1 in 6 women who are being stalked or harassed, go on to report it to the police. This maybe due to lack of evidence and/or fear of making it worse. Together with the fact, the police are not trained in such matters. And unlike many stalkers who pay for spying and sabotage, the victim will not have the financial freedom to recruit help such as a lawyer who is trained in phycology and criminal behaviour. Also, being stalked is so very draining, the last thing any victim wants to do is scrutinise all their own activities, to see where they are being pursued, both on and offline. At home, in the workplace and when out and about.

The best solution is to try and lead a normal life, in hope the stalker will become bored and just move on (hopefully not to stalk anyone else.) As dealing with a stalker’s habit, is inadvertently giving them the attention they seek. It is an awful predicament for any person being intimidated by such cowardly acts of attention seeking, when there is nothing to be gained by spying on innocent people. And that includes the friends and family of the victim, in order to obtain information and whereabouts of the target. Thus making it hard for any person who is victim to stalking, to escape from it.

And we must remember that a stalker is in belief they are a part of the targets routine, and even their lifestyle, despite the fact they are not ever going to be by natural choice. Such acts are an extreme form of denial and a ‘fantasy world’ lead by the abuser. They may infiltrate sites like WhatsApp, read emails, texts and listen in on phone calls.

I believe the UK needs specific mental health facilities for stalkers and abusers, which address such matters in order to avoid harm and further invasion to victims, both now and in the future.. Innocent victims whose freedom and liberal rights are at risk, in what we are lead to believe is a democratic society.

The selling of spyware over the internet for stalkers, is currently not a prosecutable crime. But the max sentence for a convicted stalker is up to 10 years. One should not feed the other. It begs to question just how many public places with private areas have hidden spyware? A pinhole camera for instance, is so small, it can be inserted inside of a screw head and turned off when magnetic equipment is used to detect the camera. In other words, a hidden lens can be impossible to detect?

Hackers are not bad people. They provide a service and like any other occupation, it is how their clients recruit such skills. Hacking in turn can protect us and save lives. It is so damning that technology can be used to the detriment of those who simply want to enjoy their lives and wish no harm to others. Would a hacker be pleased to find out another man is watching his wife and has pinhole cameras looking in to all his rooms?

Often a stalker will recruit a second or third party to carry out their surveillance. Terrifying to think that complete strangers to the target, have been paid for their time to invade someone’s privacy. The plus side is most surveillance companies are diligent, where they must appear to comply with the law and many do not realise (or prefer not to know) they are simply a stalking aid to their paying client (stalker.) It is disguised with topics such as ‘find out if your wife is cheating.’ When in actual fact most targets are not or never have been involved with the stalker. We live in a dangerously invasive world like this?

If you too are suffering the same, keep a journal and tell those who love you. Don’t be silenced. And never negotiate with a stalker. Please see previous posts scattered around here. Try to make the most of each day and do not live in fear.

Tiff. Xx

rainy afternoon – busy

I love it when I can have time with my immediate surroundings. And when I think about it, I don’t need much. Social Media always leaves me feeling detached and frustrated, as apart from sourcing, networking, and staying close to distant mates and family, it can also start to make us less connected with who we really are.

I like to think that if I form a bond with a human, it could be similar to real life, and it’s not just a means to gain front house popularity. It’s not like when we go to heaven then get asked by the door keepers, ‘so, how many Twitter followers did you get? Or, how much money did you stack up?’ Karmically the universe sees everything anyway. So, what will be, simply is. We are only ever our true intention. And living with a free conscience is true wealth.

We all make mistakes but taking account for our own destiny and purpose is nobody else’s responsibility. Everyone has stuff going on, both good and bad. But some are much worse off than others. It is not so much luck, but who we have around us. Our Tribe. The people who really do help each other through the mess. Sometimes, just by being a listening ear or a hug. Sharing a fag or grabbing a bag of chips to scoff in the park.

With mental illness there is a thin line between being prepared and reaching out for a frame network. And the internet can become a fine line of confusion, since, as much as being a means to share great things, it can equally become a bow and arrow for keyboard warrior’s and those who know how to inflict a precise and calculated hate campaign. Often targeting a seemingly lone person, with the intention and purpose to make that target feel as vulnerable and detached as possible. Various means to this route could range from a desire for fame, money and an/or an ample amount of free time to plan such acts of spite. Either way such calculations derive from the perpetrators own sense of worth and often they turn to the web to push that onto those they envy most. Often a person who lives quite happily without the need of validation from strangers, all day, every day. A vicious cycle.

Either way, the older I get, the more it all jumps out at me. Saddened by the fact there are those that seek drama by means of (cowardly and indirect) disruption when it is so unnecessary. I myself have at times become very low, but after counselling or just speaking with a friend, it becomes apparent I am simply processing how life events have made me feel. Mentally I would describe myself as strong. I know this, as when I am under enormous pressure my adrenalin kicks in. Especially if someone I love is being hurt or bullied. Worse still, if someone I love is being a bully.

I have however, gone on to make real life friends as a result of the internet. And have sourced crafts and trades this way too. But then there are a small majority that offset the positive by creating a simultaneously ‘fake existence’ online. One of which takes residence over their own ‘real life’ world. The broad term ‘stalking’ covers much of above. And can overspill to the target’s friends and family also being scrutinized. And in some cases, books and scripts are created using the base line of the stalker’s often misguided assumptions. Financial wealth is awarded to the prowler. But guess what. The target remains richer in terms of balance and abundance.

That’s why, it is imperative to think above and beyond small minded cycles that serve no purpose to our origin and purpose. That said mental health is a huge factor towards using the internet to seek revenge and reap havoc. Especially during a psychotic outrage of another. This in turn is ‘so far’ completely unvetted by social media hierarchy. I know, I have been on the receiving end. The web being a cry for any means of ‘often the wrong of’ attention. Where the mentally meek will use any means of falsehood to be heard in a sea of sharks. Then, when they get well, everything is back to the real perspective.

But when this happens, a portal opens for the prowlers to become almost ecstatic at discovering such seemingly potential drama, that could not possibly happen in their own ‘white supremacist’ bubble of bullshit. The web makes tribes very vulnerable. Isn’t life so very wicked at times. We just have to know we can turn it off and find happiness all around us. In my case, alleyways, and my my kitchen, where I just cooked myself and Danielle (my housekeeper at the hotel) fajitas with spinach and peppers. Going to have another in a mo, with a skinny coffee fix. Then my time warp of a girl cave (bedroom), where I find absolute inner tranquility. A space that is full of worthlessly sentimental treasures, to include my crystal ball, rocks, shells, driftwood, tarot and pets. It’s indescribably connected to core.

I gave up regular drinking a few years ago. when I realised I was in a cycle of addiction to the internet and booze, due to ill health and grim living conditions. Wine being my ‘then’ poison and a means to numb my constant sense of no confidence. I went on an all out soul-searching, learning curve and during this time set up Pet Service Directories and Animal welfare groups. Through my unstoppable determination, I was subsequently bullied to fuck by an established ‘designer pet group’ and a couple of seemingly do good ‘social influencers,’ who use their money (millions) to tick heads. I hate snobbery.

This all went on for years. A systematic battle for which my faith would not be deterred. But on reflection the feedback and updates I still get to this day, regarding the progress I made for the animals, make it all worthwhile. And my tech skills vastly improved, due to the long haul out of physical service.

As we get older, we look back at life and wonder how we could have done things differently. But what we must remember, we cannot change the past. Only learn and grow away from it.

tiffany belle harper

We must remember there are those that confuse ‘love and admiration’ with ‘jealousy and resentment’. People who do not know how to feel empowered by any other, than themselves. The greatest people alive, are often ‘seemingly’ the most hated at a social glance. Maybe because they are truly loved within their own tribes in the real world. Where this in turn creates rivalry. Popularity indeed walks alleyways and does not need or wish to fill stadiums or win prizes. Wisdom has always been free for us all. Never forget that. Dew glistens brighter than diamonds and we can all afford nature.

Two nights a week I may enjoy a drink. It’s a 9% rose fusion made with strawberries and summer fruits. I thoroughly enjoy it on ice with a splash of tonic. I also have a takeaway and make wax melts, soap and bath fizz. I listen to jazz. I know it sounds boring, but I get off on it. I have a load of rescue pets too.

I was a young mum to two boys. I hardly had a social life. In fact, I cannot remember having one at all. I had an open house for all their mates. Three jobs. I would spend all my spare income on food for the kids. I drove them everywhere. I recall taking them to see Eminen in Milton Keynes. The town was rammed. There was absolutely nowhere to park up to wait for them. So, I rather stupidly drove all the way home, walked the dogs. Put a wash on then drove back. Due to it being so busy it took me 3 hours to get there. It was pouring with rain and my phone battery was dead. So, I got out my old banger of a car and ran around the arena circuit looking for the group I had to take home.

I was so worried, not only that I had lost my own kids, but also the two boys with them. I think they were about 12 and 14 at the time. I had given them strict instructions how to stay safe. And where to meet me. But the place we had arranged, which is where I had dropped them off, was now closed off to divert all traffic. The entire system was mayhem. Eventually finding the boys, I was by now almost wetting myself. I had an old washing up bowl in the boot so hid my best and went for a pee in there. Not one of them thanked me for my efforts to transport them to and from the concert. But we don’t do it for praise. It was their first gig. We do it to fill their lives with good memories. But as they turn to adults, they can all too often forget the things we did in favour of what we did not.

I love my boys, but it has not been easy. I am similar to both of them, but in different ways. I am proud. Our children, no matter what age can break our hearts, repeatedly. And we have to allow them to do that. I want James to move to Blackpool as I think he could nail this town. And I want Ashley to release his confidence with balance and harmony.

I still miss Dad. He was my best friend. I never really knew Mum. But I am trying. Our lives have been so different.

I want to retire before I die. But then work keeps me from over thinking. I sometimes miss blogging so much, now I am living in a goldfish bowl. Not everyone wants to be clapped by strangers. Life is much bigger than that. We are all on the same journey and it’s how we feel with our own space that counts most. Nothing to prove here. Am fine with me. I do good. Best I can.

Finally here is a video by a really good mate of mine, Seca One. Speaking quite openly about his history on the streets, together with his mind and how he turned it into being a successful artist. I hope it can help at least one person. Men tend to suffer in ways that are harder to detect. Often becoming hostile and aggresive. This makes me worry. Men need to be heard in a way that takes away a sense of delusion and guilt shifting.

Tiffany. X

‘Poster by Rebekah Gillian | Freelance Writer ● Autistic Lifestyle Blogger’ – Tiffany Belle Harper

Some facts here about the broadly often misunderstood topic of Autism that we all need to tread with more gently. Seen too much nastiness towards those who are special and sadly, often instigated by those in seemingly high places. Needs to be addressed.

If you cannot be kind then shut the fuck up. We don’t need nastiness in the playground. It also amazes me how parents can treat others the way they would not want their kids to be treated. Hardly a good example. Being thoughtful and aware (to me) is more prevalent in those regarded lower class too. Who seem to spend more time in the community than pretending to live a life they do not, behind closed posh doors. There should be no stigma with autism.

Tiffany Belle Harper


Mess and Mood by Tiffany Belle Harper – February 2021

Sunday always has such a personal vibe about it. And I decided to let go of all that has no value to me. Unfortunately, most things that did, have since been stolen from my flat in Blackpool. For months it broke my heart how anyone could do this to me – but you either get on with it, or fester on the bad intent. Either way it is in the past and that is where it stays. I am over it and I only have me to blame for being too busy to realise it was happening over a long period of time. I have learned a tough lesson and it will not happen again in a hurry.

Blackpool is like anywhere else in that you move to a new area and you do not know anybody. Blank pages – and it takes time to fill those pages. The chapters begin and you live through your own book. However, I don’t have time to write that much, so my book is the colourful things that really do happen to us each day. We live. We learn. We teach. We give thanks. We grow. 

I am hugely sensitive; particularly if someone faults my parenting or my pets welfare. That is a big no for me. So, watch it! Cos I will have you in a court room before you know it. Apart from that, I can deal with most stuff. I am an adult and if something offends me it is probably because I glanced at it or gave that person or people too much of my precious time. So, dealing with how my hours pass is a big obstacle for me that I am doing well at these days. Because recent events have shown us we have support and love around us from people who have been about for many years. And as we expand our circles we can often overlook the most ‘significant others’ in our hearts who really do want the best. Less is More.

Getting back to letting go of mess. I am transitional once more. I have stockpiled a lot of personal junk – deciding my money works better not to buy nice things for ‘me’ in favour of cheaper stuff as when you were repeatedly robbed, you pause before you spend. I wear my clothes hard. I am on my knees scrubbing. Bleaching. Washing, baking, cooking, and having the pets jumping on us. Therefore, I do need to remind myself more than often to throw things away when they are tatty … despite … loving ragged.

I have opened the doors to guests here, the place is spotless, checked them into their rooms, felt a sense of accomplishment. That is until, I happen to look in a mirror (I do not have one in the flat). I see a woman who is covered in bits of food, sometimes seaweed and sand, wax, paint, cleaning supplies and pet fluff, with un-brushed hair and sometimes dirty teeth. Yes. You work seven days a week during high season. You fall into bed and you get out of it again. And that dirty bitch is no less than ME! Ha! Your time is service. I see other hoteliers looking pristine. I used to wonder how they did it, then decided not to give a shit as I am what I am. That was until I made the decision to put out my clothes the night before. Got a towel by the shower, with my toiletries ready to wash and set the alarm an hour earlier. Remember, I have the pets to feed and care for before we start to cook breakfast for sometimes 25 plus people.

I do have help. I am blessed. But still, I am constantly at logger heads with my own routine. So today I am not holding what I like. I am keeping what I plan to wear in the next six months, which covers most weather. I am letting go of what holds me back. Fabric makes dust. I don’t have a wardrobe here. Instead, two clothes rails and they do make dust! Where I am going has a gorgeous big bespoke hand-crafted triple pine wardrobe that’s painted in a creamy colour. My two rails of clothes won’t fit in it. I have visions of this stunning piece of sustainable furniture being accompanied by a clothes rail rammed into a convenient gap in the apartment and it spoils our new bedroom completely. Then I will be flustering about where to put everything that I don’t really use or need but have become attached towards. Back to square one. So, I am being ruthless with me today and letting much of it go to allow for ‘the new’ with less baggage.

I have spent much of my live living in small spaces. And when I visit people with big spaces, I don’t envy them because all I see is more work. More clutter. More responsibility.

Travel light and live for adventure. If you are not going to use the rooms then why buy space. It is just a statement. That said my darlings, Belleva House is a hotel. A place that will go to work with us. Somewhere that yes we will run around at night and the pets will explore, but the apartment is where we snuggle and slumber.

But then, there is our arty stuff, the crafting. Wax, mica powders, mannequins, pans and brushes. Sigh … they shall have to stay. Where would our lives be without our toys for progress in our heart journeys.

Photo with this blog is my big boy Ashley. Our kids never grow up they just get bigger. Every person needs a Mum type person in their life. This photo is about 5 years old. I since lost my doggy in it. He was 21 and died in my arms. Never got over it and never want to. I love you Foley.

Now am going to tackle a huge clean washing pile in the bathroom that I have walked past so often I forgot it wasn’t a permanent fixture.


Tiff. X