Thursday, October 3, 2013

Just Deserts

August 14, 2013

I walked to the gym to find that one of my perpetrators got into a car accident as a result of an act of poetic justice. These perpetrators are a group of four Puerto Ricans; and not the good kind either (if there is such a thing). They are extremely shady looking. Other than being creepy looking Puerto Ricans, I could also tell that they are part of the "Hidden Evil" from the car that they drove. It was colored in regular blue---one of the colors in which they have me sensitized. The perpetrators usually speed by me while making sharp turns. These particular ones made too sharp of a turn when they ran over a road marker, getting it caught between the tire, axis, and frame. This caused their tire to pop off its axis. They had to stop their car in the middle of the highway. A driver behind them stepped out of her car to ask if they were okay. A woman in their group responded with an attitude. I watched the scenes for a few seconds then proceeded toward the Golden Triangle Shopping Center for the gym. I rejoiced in my oppressors' misfortune thinking to myself that it serves them right. My feet immediately started to itch along the top. The itch progressed to a burning sensation great enough to feel like they were pouring hot liquid all over. My feet burned like an American flag around angry Muslims. I still remained perseverant, determined to arrive at the gym. It  started to occur that I should stop by Marshalls to purchase coconut oil as a way to treat the burn. I have heard that coconut oil is good for the skin, so I figured it may come in handy for treating burns. I also had to buy a belt seeing that the athletic shorts I had in my backpack were too large to fit me. I had originally planned to use an old belt that I currently own, but forgot to take it with me. I continued to walk while feeling frantic at wondering if the assault against me was chemical or biological rather than the usual electromagnetic. My feet continued to drive me crazy as I searched through the store for a belt. I found two with eighty-six dollar price tags at first, then realized this was only the original price. I saw below them, sales price tags for twenty-six dollars. I still wanted something cheaper. I looked lower in the shelf to find a belt having only a sales price of fifteen dollars. I decided to get that belt instead. The next thing to get was coconut oil. I went to the gourmet food and cooking section to find just one practically jump right at me. It was a brand of organic coconut oil that had a price of five dollars and ninety-nine cents, the lowest I've seen organic oil get. I immediately took that brand and went to the register. I waited patiently, but irritatingly for my turn to check out my items. It was frustrating to stand in anticipation of being the next customer as my feet burn in the manner of, what I presumed as, sulfuric acid. The cashier and the current customer did make some conversation, which intensified my irritation. The conversation did fortunately not last a very lengthy amount of time. I was somewhat relieved to hear a recording calling out, "Register Number Four is now available." I advanced toward the counter as any customer and presented my items. The cashier seemed to only notice the belt at first as I could tell from the fact that she only scanned this item. She noticed my coconut oil a few minutes later. "Coconut oil, what's that for?" She asked. I was unsure of how to answer at first and felt quite irritated by the question. I was in too much of a hurry at getting to the gym's locker room to nurse my burns. I became able to produce an answer. I told her it was for cooking. She told me it was the first time she'd seen something like that. I paid for my items and left. I headed across the parking lot, moving toward the gym. I checked in at the front desk upon arrival and rushed toward the locker room entrance. I removed my shoes and socks upon entering to find my feet changed to a bright red color. I placed my items inside of an empty locker, removed my clothing, and headed to the shower, so I can wash my feet in case of biological or chemical poisoning. I finished washing my feet only to find them still itching, burning, and red. I returned to my locker to retrieve the coconut oil. I rubbed the substance all over my feet to find the symptoms still occurring. I went to retrieve some paper towels for wiping away the oil upon realization that this remedy did not work. I sat on the bench wondering how I could  stop the irritation when another remedy occurred. This remedy was to rub all over the top of my feet, some body wash I had with me. This body wash was laced with sea salt. I suspected that the symptoms might be caused by the perps using electromagnetic fields to stimulate moisture production, so I figured sea salt can absorb some of the moisture. My feet started to cool, but could still feel some degree of the itching. I put my socks over them and started changing into my exercise clothes. I put my shoes on afterward and headed to the gym. My symptoms reduced overtime, becoming non-existent as I exercised.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Hypnotic "Thinking"

August 8, 2013

I was at work yesterday (8/7/13) when my supervisor called my name. I approached him to find a clipboard in his possession. He asked me to sign a personal slip for the time I was absent due a co-worker with whom I'm commuting being unable to start his car---I suspect that my perpetrators caused this disturbance. My supervisor then pointed at a fiber drum located in front of a door that he had previously identified as an emergency exit. He stated, "...and I thought I told you not to block that door." I looked at the area, surprised as hell about the drum being placed back in front of the door after I had moved it. There was part of me however, that wondered if I moved it back at some point and forgot about it. "I thought I had it over there..." I replied as I pointed at an empty space across from the door. My supervisor made a statement of which I could not discern due to the high noise of the work area. I replied by saying, "huh" as I came closer. He repeated, "don't start thinking. It will get you in trouble. It gets me in trouble everytime I think." Surprised, I stood there wondering why my supervisor made this statement and what he means by it. I wondered as I moved the drum, if this was some sort of intimidating psychological-operation (psy-op) because the gangstalkers don't like something that I did at home---waking up at midnight and being a little more active inside my apartment, perhaps. My supervisor did seem awfully pissed with me later in the day. He watched me more than usual and he seemed disgusted when I told him about a machine breaking down. This led me to wonder if this was an additional psy-op. The shift ended in the afternoon. I was in the backseat of my co-worker's car when it dawned on me minutes later that I was using a hysterical tone when trying to explain to my supervisor that I thought I had the drum moved out of the way. I even recalled moving my hand in a frantic manner. I wondered if the perpetrators had me mind-controlled into sounding argumentative or combative toward my supervisor. I have read that they can manipulate a target's emotions causing him to use a certain tone and I did feel a high level of exciting astonishment earlier that day. I also started to recall that I was barely in my own body after my supervisor stated that "thinking" will get me in trouble. I became riddled with shock and awe upon this realization. I wondered if they would sooner or later make me do something worse that leads to my discharge from work, yet I would not be intimidated. I vowed to continue living my life to its fullest potential (as full as a target's life could be) for I could die tomorrow. It would matter not how I live my life or don't live it. Other than the possibility that I could acquire an electromagnetic field (emf) related illness or injury, there is also martial law. During this time of unrest, a time that survivalists call when "Shit Hits The Fan (SHTF)," I could get detained and sent to a FEMA death camp. Internment in the United States is real ladies and gentlemen. Uncle Sam has done it to U.S. Citizens before and he will do it again. There is even a leaked U.S. Army document known as FM 3-39.40, stating that they would intern citizens. There were some additional episodes with my mind on the way home; among these were some V2K along with falling in/out of vertigo. I, at one point, became unconcious, waking to the sight of the car being parked along a curb with all of the seats empty except for the one that I occupied. There were two other passengers besides myself who were all apparently dropped-off with my co-worker leaving his vehicle afterward, presumably to run an errand. I sat in astonishment of this episode when I received some clicks to my skull. The co-worker returned minutes later. I arrived home minutes later and entered the apartment building, hearing a perpetrator yell something inaudible from across the street. I began to ponder about the earlier episode with my supervisor, wondering if it had been mind control when my thoughts became disrupted (in a non-Voice-to-Skull [V2K] manner) by a loud, long blowing of a vehicle's horn.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Almost Out of Breath

July 31, 2013

Today, the perpetrators caused my lungs to constrict on me while I was at work. This was further enhanced by my ranting quietly to myself at rapid pace as well as breathing with great force. I do have a habit of ranting a whole series of thoughts to myself while working, but this was at a faster speed than usual, leading me to suspect that the perps made me rant at this rate by taking electrical control of my brain. I know they have used forced speech on me before including its use for the purpose of threatening to make me talk to the point of suffocation, "make you talk 'til you run out of breath" were the exact words that they used through my own mouth. I believe they're doing this because they do not like that I'm exercising at the gym. I'm starting to get some results from going there and it's freaking them out. Another thing they don't like me doing is reading books, which I did after returning home last night (7/30/13). It was 11:25 PM, and I had decided to read a Stephen King book entitled "Night Shift" before going to sleep. I turned out my bedroom light and used my booklight for illuminating the pages as I read. Before I knew what hit me, I suddenly found myself awakened at 4:15 AM. I was a slightly astounded and confused even though this has happened in the past. I set my alarm to sound on the dot, but found that it failed to go off even fifteen minutes after the strike of the fourth hour. I arose from bed to engage in usual activity that included making coffee and eating breakfast. After I had finished breakfast, I went to get some items from the top of my bed to find my book lying flat on its back with my booklight still lit and hooked to it. I stood there in astonishment to wonder why my booklight was still active. It then occurred to me that my perpetrators took full control of my brain making me close the book and put it down. They then sedated me once I did, waking me up almost four hours later while suppressing the alarm signal inside my clock.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

SMS: The perps are making the bridge of my nose ache while causing liquid to form.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

SMS: The perps are attacking my ankle in a way to make it feel like a sprain, but it actually borders on fracturing.

Monday, May 13, 2013

SMS: I recently purchased an EMF detector and it's really irritating the hell out of my perpetrators. I just put it through a test and my wrist is now twisted.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Stomach Spasms

September 2, 2012

I stated in an SMS text message that my perps are making my stomach involuntarily move. They did this out of their frustration of my insistence on reading books when they do not want me performing such activity. I was lying in my bed reading Stephen King's book entitled Nightmares and Dreamscapes when I started experiencing a whole variety of disturbances. This first started with the perpetrators using V2K to make commentary about the book that I managed to ignore as I continue reading. I then started forgetting the passages causing me to have to go back and repeat them. I suddenly felt pressure at my diaphragm to the point where enzymes were leaking out of my esophagus. I closed the book and paused momentarily as I heard a loud rapping noise along my wall. I placed my hand on the affected area only to feel some motion. I lifted my shirt to look at my mid-section to find that from my diaphragm to my abdomen, it was moving in the same rhythm as a heartbeat. I started to panic as I suspected them in giving me cancer.  I immediately took a glass mixing together one tablespoon of baking soda with three drops of hydrogen peroxide filling the glass with water. I stirred all three ingredients together thoroughly. I drank this solution hoping to suppress the growth of cancer cells. I called my medical clinic to make an appointment with a physician the next day. I, of course, had no intention in telling my doctor that I think government sanctioned criminals might have given me cancer.