Late for Work

March 22, 2015

I awakened at three in the morning to have breakfast as usual; although, some people might find it unusual to hear of a breakfast consisting of chicken thighs, spinach, and a small portion of rice and beans. I got on my computer as I waited for my chicken to cook. I checked my e-mail as well as my Facebook notifications. Part of the e-mail I was checking were drafts that I have started, but never finished. I decided to finish two of them, one of which I had sitting in the Draft folder for over a month. My chicken was finished cooking by the time I got done typing. I retrieved the chicken then put some fresh spinach on my plate. This meal was not enough to satisfy my appetite, so I scooped into my plate approximately one cup of rice and beans; this satisfied my hunger. I packed some items and headed out the door at 5:07 AM. I waited at the usual place for the co-worker with whom I usually commute to find that he still had not shown up after fifteen minutes. I tried giving him a call to find that there was no answer. Hordes of vehicles accelerated past me at all directions with the numbers increasing as minutes passed. I made additional attempts at calling him to find that he still was not answering. I was starting to get the feeling that not only was he not going to show, but that this was done intentionally as "payback" for going hiking with my friends who also happened to have been blacklisted by the North American faction of the legalized mafia (also known as U.S. Government with the mafia known as Illuminati). Those in Lancaster who are involved in the systematic stalking were getting frustrated with my leaving the apartment since it seems to take time and money away from them to have their way with me. I was thinking that I must have left my camcorder in my apartment, so I went back to get it then walked back to the spot where I was waiting. I found that it was 5:35 AM with my co-worker not showing up. I decided to try walking to the end of South Prince Street where a lot of my co-workers seem to pass on their way to see if any of them will offer to give me a ride. Since it took me half an hour to walk to that location, I was finding that I got there a little too late; although, none of them probably would have stopped to pick me up even if I had left like clockwork since it was probably done deliberately. I still stayed at this location until 6:15 AM when I decided to call off work. I called my supervisor to tell him I am unable to show up. He told me that there were buses and taxis that get to the company's location. I already knew with absolute certainty that buses did not come to that place; the furthest they go South of Lancaster is a shopping center known as Kendig Square located in Willow Street. As for the taxis, I started remembering an attempt to get a cab to that location back in mid-2014 to find that they do not go there. I tried explaining this to my supervisor when he told me he's seen guys come over there in taxis. I thought this was strange given that I could not get a cab over there. I wondered at first if my supervisor was lying to me because he thought I was lying and because he was upset with me for calling off. I decided to head home and try to get to a phone book, so I can look up the number for a taxi to see if they might have changed their policy in terms of travel area. I planned to check the library to see if they were open since they would have a phone book. The urge to make a bowel movement came over me that increased to a dramatic level as I walked. I passed the Water Street Rescue Mission to see a volunteer worker through the glass door, behind the counter looking at me as she laughed. I figured they all knew about the plot to keep me from going to work. I also noticed a sign on their door that I hadn't previously noticed that said: "No Public Restrooms" in both English and Spanish. I did consider stopping there to ask if I can use their restroom prior to seeing that sign. I moved on in search for a public restroom. I found one when I stopped by a cafe. I figured they might want me to order something, so I purchased the first thing to come to mind, which was a bottle of all-natural Jamaican-style ginger ale. I paid two dollars for the beverage and headed to the restroom. The light began to shut off approximately one minute after I sat on the toilet; it returned to full power in the same amount of time. I wondered if the light was electronically hacked or if the cafe has a motion detection light system for their restroom. I decided to try tapping the cafe's Wi-Fi on my Kindle while sitting on the toilet. I wanted to go into the Yellow Pages' website to look up the number for a taxi. The only Wi-Fi my Kindle would tap was an apparently fictitious one failing to properly work. I tried going into settings to select a different Wi-Fi network; the Kindle froze for a few seconds then produced a list. I found one representing the cafe, but it was secure. I figured they probably give customers the username and password either on their own walls or upon request. I thought of asking one of the attendants for that information (after I finish using the bathroom) at first, but decided to let it go and just head to the library, but not before I do just one thing: hand an attendant a flyer. I had it in my mind to spread fliers given that it appeared that I would be out of work anyway. I had thought to myself that I cannot chicken out of things in such a situation. I first left one flyer in the bathroom as I arose from the toilet. I washed my hands and went back into the dining area of the cafe. I saw that there was no clerk behind the counter as I realized they were in the back. One of the clerks saw me and came out to see what I wanted. I started off complaining of the alternating lights to calm myself then produced a flyer to show her.

"Do you mind if I hand you this?" I asked.

"Is it related to an event?" The clerk replied as she examined the flyer.

"It's related to a political cause."

"We have a bulletin board, but only fliers advertising events can be posted, sorry."

"Okay, thanks anyway."

I left the cafe to head for the library. I turned on East Orange Street to find two women staging a dispute as they walk toward me. The younger woman appeared to be in her early twenties while the older appeared to be in her fifties. The younger woman began shouting obscenities at the older. The younger one yelled: "You smoked up my last cigarettes, you bitch! You slut!" She then spat on the older one. The younger woman waved her hand in front of my face in a hello motion as they walked by me; she then continued yelling obscenities. I turned on North Duke Street and arrived at the library to find it closed. I read the sign stating their hours to find that they weren't open until 10:00 AM. I pulled out my Kindle to see if their Wi-Fi is currently working; the Wi-Fi network wasn't even listed. I put my Kindle away and stood in front of a nearby coffee house to attempt at taping their network. I saw some people enter the coffee house including a known perpetrator who stared right at me as she walked into the building. Tapping the coffee house Wi-Fi had also proven to be of no avail. The thought came to mind toward distributing a flyer to the coffee house. I joined the other patrons inside the building and waited in line for two other individuals to have their orders fulfilled.

When it became my turn in line, I asked the cashier: "Do mind if I hand you this," as I presented the flyer.

"Is it for a business?" The cashier asked.

"No, it's for a political cause."

The cashier answered: "There's a bulletin board right there" as he pointed toward a wall on the other side of the building.

"Are there any spare pins?"

"Yeah, there should be."

I approached the bulletin board to hang the flyer. I saw the same female perpetrator from outside watch me with a facial expression as if to reveal that she knew exactly what flyer I was getting ready to post. I pinned the flyer and walked away with the thought of someone taking it down. I left the building and headed home with anticipation of looking up taxis as I tap my own Wi-Fi.

I arrived home approximately fifteen minutes later. I immediately consulted my Kindle in accessing the Yellow Page website. I ran a search for taxis in Lancaster, PA to find surprisingly high number of taxi companies listed. I copied numbers for three of them on my cell phone. The first one I called had a disconnected line the second one was listed as AAA, but turned out to be the Lancaster County Cab Company. I asked if they travel to the area of my workplace. I received a reply indicating that they do. I requested a cab from my home to the workplace. I gave my address and we disconnected. I decided to get some items while waiting then headed out to my apartment building's foyer. I waited for approximately half an hour then received a phone call from the cab driver indicating that he arrived. I left the building and walked toward the taxi. I got inside the car and told the driver the designation address. The cab driver entered my requested address into his GPS device and we departed from my neighborhood.

I noticed the cab driver taking a route that was different from the one that my co-worker usually takes. I wondered if he was either consciously and intentionally perping me or if the perps hacked the GPS to throw off his navigation. This was until I realized later that he was going the right direction, but just a route that had less traffic. I started thinking of this as beneficial since it could get me to work quicker. The cab driver and I conversed on the way over there.  Somewhere along the way, I called my supervisor to let him know I will be coming to work after all since I found a cab company that goes to the area. The driver gave me his business card the minute I got off the phone. We arrived at the place approximately twenty-six minutes after we left. I found a co-worker of mine waiting right in the parking lot for me. He was dressed in nice looking clothing as if he was not dressed for work, but rather just starting work himself. I figured that he intentionally made himself late in order to participate in the organized stalking. I paid the driver then went inside, walking to the locker room to change clothes.

I drew the conclusion that the taxi driver wasn't a perpetrator, but did figure that he might become one the minute someone orders him to get involved. I have noticed that taxi drivers seem to play a heavy role in the organized stalking portion of this government-sponsored assassination program. I label it as such since it includes a barrage of psychological and physical torture that can kill a person if done for a good number of years. There is a blogger by the name of Gregory Marshall Thomas who attributes this form of abuse as a modern day version of an old Chinese torture method known as Death of a Thousand Cuts except the "cuts" are extraordinarily less visible than the ones that were inflicted on the victim during that time. The victim is also not visibly restrained except in cases when police might arrest him/her on false charges usually to stop this person from actively trying to expose this form of gross human rights violation. False charges were also used against activists during the olden days of COINTELPRO [Counter Intelligence Program].

Saving Time

March 3, 2015

My feet have been burning profusely in recent months. This would happen most often at work after my lunchbreak. They often burn so badly at the soles that I would walk with a limp. In addition to trouble involving the soles, I also would experience problems with my toes. They would suddenly weaken on me causing dire pain as I walk. Yawning spells would accompany these attacks. Today, this was not only done at work like usual, but I also had my left ankle twisted as I was walking in my apartment. The walking was for the purpose executing different tasks. I later gave a call to another targeted individual (TI) who had indicated in an e-mail that he wanted me to call him. We talked for approximately half an hour about some suspected controlled opposition agents (I feel fully sure of it myself, but the other TI seemed unsure of what to believe). The other TI then advised that targets not be so obsessed with their targeting since it would drive them crazy and get the perps messing with them more. After getting off the phone, I began preparing to leave for the gym. The perps tried to keep me on the sofa by weighing my eyes with electromagnetic pulses (EMP). I pushed myself up with force as I heard the sound of a woman saying "stop" via voice-to-skull (V2K). I suspect that it was a recording rather than a real person. I packed my backpack, lowered my thermostat (I do this before leaving my home to save money on the gas bill), and prepared a gallon of water. I was starting to feel sleepy from their attempt sedation, so I brewed a cup of coffee in attempt to stay awake. I normally limit my coffee intake to sixteen ounces a day, but decided to go for another eight in the afternoon. I always figured that all the caffeine on the planet would not work against their electronic weapons, but decided to give it a try just for the sake of boosting morale. Upon finishing my coffee, I put on my coat and headed out the door.

I arrived at the gym approximately forty minutes later. It usually takes me half an hour, but I experienced greater difficulty due to navigating through heavy amounts of snow and ice. I entered the gym to find that it wasn't crowded like usual. I found it pretty strange since it's usually crowded on weekday nights. I walked to the locker room to change clothes. I decided to wet myself down prior to the workout for two reasons:

1. It helps me rehydrate after walking one-point-three miles to get there.

2. I started recently noticing that I appear dirty after changing into my gym clothes for some strange reason. I took to rinsing myself with water as a way to get rid of the dirty look.

I first became aware of the latter when I heard a perpetrator in the locker room gossiping about it. I examined myself in the mirror to find that he was definitely telling the truth. I stripped off my clothing, locked them away in my locker, and headed for the showers. One perpetrator along the way gave me a strange grimace as if to wonder why I would shower prior to a workout rather than afterward. I, however, intended to use only water while excluding the soap since I intended to only rinse myself for the reasons previously described. I walked into one of the shower stalls and rinsed for approximately thirty seconds. I dried off upon finishing and headed back to my locker to dress for the work out. I then locked my locker and headed for a mirror to see if there had been any improvement in appearance. I found that my appearance had improved; I looked much cleaner than the last time I had gazed in the mirror. I wanted to comb my hair back, but realized that I had already locked my comb in the locker. I decided to head out to the fitness area rather than go through the trouble of undoing my lock to retrieve a haircomb; besides, my hair was going to get messy from working out anyway, so it doesn't pay to be too obsessive with my appearance.

Upon leaving the locker room to enter the fitness area, I remembered an advice that a friend (also a TI) gave me about working out. I was, for a good while, spending at least two hours inside the gym trying to workout. This friend advised me to cut my time back to one hour since she perceived my two-hour habit as pushing myself a little too much; she even added that it sounds like a form of excessive-compulsive behavior that would in the long-term prove self-defeating. I decided to give my friend's advice a try in spite of believing that it would not work for me due to the perps' electronic assault to disrupt my workouts. I headed to the stretching mats first to perform sit-ups and a second abdomen exercise with the name of which I lack knowledge. I proceeded to work on my arms after completion of the abdomen workouts. I did other muscle groups as minutes progressed. I finished exercising with the realization that I not only saved time from cutting back, but also experienced better results. This must have infuriated the perpetrators to an awful degree since I immediately saw unusually aggressive bumper-to-bumper traffic as I exited the gym; I continued to experience it as I walked back home.

I returned home to find that the increased aggression did not end with the bumper-to-bumper traffic. I experienced an increase in electronic aggression as I moved about  my apartment. This began after I started using my extra time  to e-mail more TIs and do more research. I, unfortunately, am unable to recall the electronic assaults of this day, but can be certain that the usual (eye pressure, yawning spells, etc) was among them.

When a Target's Computer is No Longer a Viable Weapon

March 4, 2015

I came home from work with plans to go to the post office for the purpose of checking my PO Box. Expecting a package was one reason I had anticipated the trip. The other reason was having to mail a greeting card for my father's Birthday. I had trouble remembering my father's house number with absolute confidence, but did remember the rest of the address with  great consistency. I looked up the address with the use of my Kindle by going into Amazon to retrieve my address book. I executed this task as I prepared a quick meal consisting of peanut butter and bananas wrapped in a flat bread. The Kindle was taking a long time to load the desired section of Amazon, so I did become slightly impatient as I kept reloading and yelling obscenities at the device with commands for it to "move." The address book did load after approximately a minute and a half. I saw the full address and filled in the envelope with the house number included. Perps were, of course, pissing and moaning via Voice-to-Skull (V2K). My feet also burned as I walked. I had the feeling that the electronically oppressive losers did not want me leaving my apartment; they would rather I stay at home, so that they would have every bit of their way with me. In spite of this, I still packed a few of my stuff upon finishing my quick meal then headed out. I walked through the streets, debating to myself of whether to continue walking the whole way there or take a bus. I ultimately decided to walk there, for I was already starting to feel progressively more vibrant from the walk.

After arriving at the Post Office and completing my errands, I started to walk from the building with anticipation of heading to the library for looking up information. I wanted to look up leg exercises, but found my Internet disrupted like crazy everytime I tried searching this sort of information at home. This would especially happen in the evening. I just did not want to give them the satisfaction of being able to get their entertainment watching me fight with the Internet for my information due to a slow bandwidh. They seem to feel most empowered to do this and other things when I'm home for some reason, which is why my being out seems to always piss them off. I originally planned to walk back to the library, but realized that it closes at 8:00 PM. It was approximately 6:50 PM at the moment. This led me to the decision of taking the bus back into the Downtown part of Lancaster. I walked from the Post Office to the nearest bus stop. As I arrived at the stop, I pulled my Kindle from my bag to check the current time as well as that of the next bus. I pulled up a PDF copy of the bus schedule that I have saved. It was two minutes before the bus would arrive. I stood and waited for the bus, entering when it did. The final stop was Binns Park before a new cycle would began for the bus route. The driver stepped outside when he arrived until it was time for that second round. I knew the bus station would be the third stop once the new transportation cycle began. I reviewed the PDF schedule to find that I would get there faster walking since it was just down the street. I also remembered that the library is walking distance from the location, so I departed from the bus to head over there. My bowels presented itself as an obstacle; for I needed to make a movement badly. I thought about using the library's restroom at first, but realized that I not only needed to get a key from the front desk, but also that the library had a rule against bringing bags into the restroom. I would have had to leave my bag of guarded items outside the door, putting it at risk of theft. I highly doubt that the library's security guard nor the rest of library staff would have said or done anything in the event of catching someone stealing my bag since they are perpetrators themselves. The security guard on duty during that night hadn't perped me, but other security guards have, so it was very likely that every guard at the library is in on it. Keeping the aforementioned issues in mind, I decided to use the restroom at a nearby coffee house instead. I walked to the one-hundredth block of North Duke Street where the library and coffee house are located; it also happens to be the block where I lived at the time of becoming aware of my targeting. I went inside the coffee house to order something first since they probably would not let me use their restroom otherwise. I looked at items located behind a display case at the counter and quickly selected an oatmeal raisin coconut cookie since it was among the cheapest items in the establishment. I stood and waited patiently for the clerk to take my order as he was busy stirring a creamer concoction into a coffee drink. I felt things were moving too slowly, but continued to patiently wait in spite of it. The clerk was finally finished when heard him call on another customer to hand him his order. He then took my order as I told him I wanted the oatmeal raisin coconut cookie. I stuttered as I reached the word "coconut," but this wasn't due to a natural flaw. It was rather due to perps using their technology to jam my speech as I spoke. I paid for my order and proceeded to the restroom. I suspected a perp might have been intentionally occupying the bathroom to block me from it. I was proven wrong when I opened the bathroom door to find that not a single person was in there. I entered through and locked the door. I attempted to use my Kindle to check e-mail as I sat on the toilet. It wasn't connected to any Wi-Fi network,.so I tried looking into a list of ones that were within range. I found one unsecure Wi-Fi that probably belonged to the coffee house. I tried to connect to that Wi-Fi only to find my Kindle freeze. I gave up trying to connect and decided to enter my coffee house transaction into a ledger app within the Kindle. Upon finishing, I washed my hands and left the restroom, heading out to the library. I found the library practically deserted when I entered. I went to a computer to login into my library account. I immediately typed "home leg exercises" into the URL bar and hit "enter" to find query hits appearing in the form of a Bing search engine page. I looked through different websites listed to see if any of them can provide decent information. I found two websites that show some promising leg exercises. I queued them for printing and added them to my Pintrest bookmarks. I went into my e-mail account to check my e-mail then logged off to pick up my queued documents. This required a walk to the library's print station. I logged into the print station computer and printed my documents from the printer next to it. I collected the printouts and logged out. I placed the documents in a folder and returned to a regular library computer to log back into my account. I clicked on Word 2010 rather than get on the Internet. I began typing a document from a rough draft I made from a questionnaire. I printed it upon finishing. I left the library and headed home.

Upon arrival at my apartment, I had thoughts of using more of the Internet at first then decided the time I spent on it at the library as sufficient; I took to cleaning my apartment instead. This angered the perps  to an awful degree causing them to use various tactics aimed at getting me to stop. I first heard demands made via Voice-to-Skull (V2K) for me to stop. I ignored the order and continued. They inflicted stomach pain on me. I still continued as I ignored the pain. The pain began to intensify so greatly that I immediately felt the urge to vomit. I ran to the bathroom and dropped to my knees to attempt vomiting as I point my mouth into my toilet bowl. I succeeded only at coughing a small vile of enzyme, leading to the alleviation of pain. I immediately arose from the floor to get back to house cleaning.

Electronically Induced Illness

January 10, 2015

I awakened at midnight after going to sleep at eleven. Knowing full well that I usually have trouble going back to sleep when prematurely awakened, I continued lying in bed, debating to myself of whether I should get up to do housework, work on my blog, edit video, or just stay in bed to rest. The possibility started to cross my mind of being heavily fatigue at work, so I decided to lie in bed to meditate. I figured the perpetrators would disrupt the meditation process, but attempted anyway. I miraculously felt the deepest state of relaxation ever experienced. The feeling was considerably comparable to floating on a cloud. I passed onto either sleep or a trance, and awakened at approximately three o' clock in the morning. I left the bed, heading out to the kitchen when I suddenly started feeling a severe form of nausea. A dizzy state of consciousness plagued me to the point where I prepared my cell phones---I have one main one and a back-up---in case I had to call 911. I stood on my bedroom carpet with my nausea lasting approximately four minutes. I felt the urge to drink some water upon recovery. I learned that I was severely dehydrated after I was not only able to drink three-quarter gallon in one sitting, but also broke into profuse perspiration once I did. My body must have appeared as if I had bathed in sweat and just got dressed from the sweat bath. I heard a perp utter the word "mira" (Spanish for "look") via Voice-to-Skull (V2K) after this replenishing happened. I felt a mild "knot" in my stomach that just as quickly dissipated. I debated to myself of whether I should cook breakfast then decided I was up for it. I, however, refrained from brewing my morning coffee as originally planned since caffeine is known to take water out of a human body. I figured after my state of nausea and dehydration, my body was probably going to need all the water it can get. For breakfast, I broke nine eggs (a targeted friend of mine stated that she found that unbelievable when I told her over the phone that I sometimes eat that many eggs for breakfast, but I swear that it is true) into a small bowl, beat them with a fork, added fresh spinach, and fried the mixture in olive oil. I topped the mixture with previously cooked fresh beans as it fried.  I wanted to sauté some onions and garlic in addition to adding herbs and/or spices for the mixture, but lacked the time; for I had to leave for work in approximately half an hour. As the eggs cooked, I scattered about the apartment to get some items ready. The urge to make a bowel movement came over me causing a run to the bathroom. Upon finishing, I came out of the bathroom to notice the eggs smoking in spite of my cooking them on low setting. I rushed to the stove to draw the pan away from the burner. I flipped the egg mixture and returned the pan, allowing it some more time to cook. I stayed with the stove to prevent another smoking incident. The other side of the mixture, fortunately, did not take as much time as the previous. I shut off the burner and scraped the eggs onto a large plate, eating them as quickly as possible. Upon finishing breakfast, I continued preparing to leave for work. I headed out after packing my items and putting on the proper attire.

I currently commute with a co-worker to get to/from work, so I walked to a street corner to wait for this person. During the whole time of waiting, I had several gangstalker vehicles accelerate past me. Among these vehicles was one SUV containing a driver and a front passenger that I recognize as two of my co-workers, and a pick-up truck consisting of a Redneck, who was blasting Country music. The pick-up had a pair of New York license plates. The Redneck was stopped at a red light at first then drove past the light upon the transformation of green as he turned his head toward me with a devilish grin. I did think the music sounded similar to a song I heard on YouTube (I'm not normally a fan of Country music, but there are occasions when I will hear a song of that genre carrying an appealing rhythm), leading me to believe that he was projecting my private life. I later realized the reflecting music was not his main tactic; for I started to remember that I did see this Redneck come into the gym where I exercise. He usually came with two of his daughters. One of them was making comments about some hammer curls that I was performing last night by asking her father "what is that" in a smart-ass tone. I ignored the remark and continued working out. They were behind me and fifteen feet away when the remark was made, but I still had the feeling that she was commenting about me. Part of me wondered if the Redneck family was part of the gangstalking or if this was just the witticism of an ordinary smart-ass teenager. I, of course, received confirmation of the former when the father drove past me on the street corner the next morning.

Battling with My Kindle

October 28, 2014

I was operating my Kindle Fire in the afternoon when I suddenly fell into a state of semi-consciousness. My eyes pulsated with electromagnetic fields (EMF) with a series of weird mental imagery running through my mind along with my involuntarily making some statements quietly to myself. I awakened to find some data deleted from my Kindle. I was about to re-type the data when I recalled knowing of a feature offered by the application for backing up and restoring data. I tried to restore the data I lost using that feature when the screen locked on me. A message appeared approximately three seconds later stating that the application had stopped working while prompting me to choose between closing the program or waiting. I constantly chose the latter; for there was no way I was going to give into parasitical interests. Everytime I chose to wait for the app to work, it would freeze until additional occurrences of the same error message appeared. I eventually grew tired of "fighting" with the Kindle leading me to decide on the former instead. There was one point where I found all the rest of my data wiped from app. I tried the restore feature again only to experience the same problems. I eventually got the two options confused and selected back up data. This turned out to cause the information in the backup file to also be completely erased because if the application is backing up null (blank) data it will override the one that has value (containing pieces of information). Feeling a.degree of anger over the episode, I began anticipating the spreading of fliers regarding organized stalking and electronic assault. I decided to try calming myself as I make some final attempts to restore data. I gave up upon realizing that my attempts were futile.

Yoga Pursuit

September 10, 2014

The perpetrators of this hideous war crime are increasing the severity of their attacks to the point where I feel that I'm mentally deteriorating; it seems that they are attempting to take full control over my mind. The targeting has left me feeling mentally inept before, which is why I've decided to take some countermeasures against it. One such countermeasure is the very act of taking up Yoga. A friend of mine (now an ex-friend over a phone argument) had advised me to try this activity. I have experienced delay in this sort of pursuit due to lack of time. I did, however, recently manage to allocate time for Yoga exercises by changing my sleep/wake schedule. The targeting has affected my sleep to the point of only obtaining four hours at the most. This left me no choice, but to set my bedtime four hours prior to the time I plan to wake. This, for awhile, had been midnight with my awakening at four. I would typically spend that time until five 'o clock getting ready for work. Because of this I decided to awaken at three instead, allowing time for both Yoga sessions and getting ready for work. This infuriated the parasitical perpetrators a great deal especially since Yoga, even at the beginner's level, had already started generating some results for me in terms of increased mental clarity. The perpetrators responded to my change of lifestyle by cutting my sleep time back to two hours in hope that I would just stay in bed until three to take their electronic abuse. The other goal is aimed at getting me too mentally exhausted to continue in my Yoga pursuit. They did have me partially to that level this morning on the tenth day of September 2014. I had been performing the Yoga exercises under the guidance of instructional DVDs that I rented at my local library until I bought a copy of my own. The DVD that I purchased bears a title known as The Practical Power of Yoga, a DVD featuring an instructor by the name of Rodney Yee alongside his wife, Colleen Saidman. This was the DVD I felt best for beginners out of all the others I had rented and watched. I was doing pretty well at following the instruction given in the DVD until the perpetrators started attacking me as I was performing the exercises. Whenever Yee and Saidman gave instructions to the audience/students, I would fall into a trance or into a state of confusion. There were even instances when I had to go back and rewind to obtain full comprehension. I would still experience confusion or mesmerism in spite of the repeat. The trance would take the form of my making internal commentary about the oppression occurring against me or regarding  pre-targeting hostilities. There was also some mild fatigue as I attempted to perform and function, but not nearly as bad as what took place at the gym yesterday.

Set-Up or Psy-Op?

October 28, 2013

I sat in the conference room at work beginning at 10:30 AM to watch a safety presentation alongside my co-workers. At the beginning an Executive Manager whom I shall call Mitch Brussel told us that we would be watching a video then added: "Don't fall asleep; fall asleep, and you'll get to go home for free and never come back." One of my co-workers replied: "Alright, does that mean we get an hour [off]?" I interpreted Mitch's statement as implying that he would fire anyone he catches falling asleep. The very first thought to come to mind was "oh, shit," for I knew all too well that my perpetrators like to put me under vertigo to the point of unconsciousness almost every time I watch a video. I prepared myself for the attack. It was five minutes into the video when I felt my eyes go through a mildly pulsing sensation. I felt myself reaching the peak of unconciousness, but fought by all means to keep myself alert. I tried keeping my eyes to their widest to find that it wasn't working. I then remembered hearing in a documentary several years ago about pain being a good stimulant. This statement was made in a History Channel documentary that aired during my television watching days, regarding the war in Vietnam. I pressed my knuckle to my temple, hoping to cause enough pain to alleviate the fatigue. The perps continued trying to put me under. The whole cycle continued throughout the video, but I managed to stay awake to the end in spite of the whole ordeal. I did notice at one point that I was the person Mitch seemed to watch most often as if I were the one he would most expect to fall asleep. I also happened to be the person of whom Mitch gave a strange grimace at the end of the presentation. I wondered at first if it was an attempt to set me up, but the thought later occurred to me that they still could have put me under if they wanted to accomplish such feat badly enough even in spite of my best efforts to stay awake, so I am therefore, concluding that it was in deed a psychological operation (psy-op) to get under my skin. The most nerving psy-ops wielded against me do often end with strange grimaces.

Facebook Tampering

June 20, 2014

I had arisen from bed this morning following a conversation I had with an online friend of mine (also a TI), feeling groggy as hell. I decided to go back to bed for another hour to rest. I departed from bed, heading toward the pot of coffee that I had already set  to brew the previous night. I had my first cup then took out a pot to cook some oatmeal. I made the oatmeal using a combination consisting of a small amount of coconut milk I had leftover, water, and oats; I heated up the first two in the pot. I proceeded to wash dishes as I waited for the mixture to boil. I poured in the oats as I noticed the first sign of the mixture boiling. I stirred the oats into the mixture and turned down the heat, continuing to wash dishes afterward. I turned off the heat after allowing the mixture to boil then retrieved my Kindle Fire. I sat at the coffee table to check my e-mail and Facebook accounts. I came across a post that was made to one of my subscribed groups known as Pennsylvania Against The New World Orde (PANWO). This post was a link to a video of a speech made by a Tea Party activist by the name of Andrew Breitbart. The description read thay this was the speech that got him assinated by Obama. I had never heard of this Breitbart nor his death, so I took it upon myself to do some research on him. I went to a search engine to type in his name. I found some hits with the first one being a Wikipedia article baring his full name along with the dates of his birth and death. I clicked on that link and began reading the article. I started with his life story and skipped a few sections to read about his death. The article stated that he mysteriously collapsed. The coroner ruled that he died of heart failure. I wondered to myself how a man of forty-three dies of heart failure. The article also stated that some people believe that he was poisoned with drugs or other chemicals, but coroner found no such substance in his system. With these circumstances, the first thing to come to mind was "directed energy weapon." I then proceeded to go to other posts within the PANWO group. I came across one regarding a video featuring featuring clips of Joe Biden, Barrack Obama, and George Bush, Sr. glamourizing the idea of a New World Order. I clicked the link to reach the video on YouTube. I went back to Facebook after I had finished watching to comment on the video. When I finished typing and hit the comment button, my screen converted to a different thread with my comment posted there instead.

8-Ball Shenanigans

February 18, 2014

 I was playing a game of 8-Ball Pool on my Kindle Fire after returning home from the library. The whole playing experience seemed smooth at first, but took a downward turn over half an hour later. I started the game in the Offline Practice mode, playing three matches, which allowed me to get the feel for the game after spending several days away from the application. Feeling a sense of confidence, I began to play online with a real person. I entered the one-on-one section where my opponents are typically selected at random. I won the first match and lost the second. Experience points are typically scored in both victory and defeat, but the former grants more of them. I earned one-hundred seventy-five for winning and only thirty-five just for playing the second match and losing. The thirty-five points provided me with enough on my score tab to achieve advancement to the next level. I continued playing electronic pool, squaring off against additional opponents. Something strange started happening during the third match; my connection to the game's server started to freeze. This was evident when I saw a message that said, "Waiting for server response." The server reconnected a minute later in time for me to find that my turn had expired. From there on, I started experiencing additional hacking that took the form of cue repositioning, strike delays, and additional server freezes. I became increasingly tense as the hacking continued. I started ranting silently, threats to the perpetrators. I threatened to stay up until 1:00 AM instead of my normal midnight bedtime (the perps usually try to get me to go to sleep early, so I can get tortured before they sedate me while subsequently waking me early to keep me from going back to sleep) and get involved with activism in ways that include spreading fliers. I then started thinking to myself that the threat of going to bed later might not be effective. I also began to wonder if that was even a wise move to make for my health. I kept losing additional matches due to perpetrator interference, but could care less; for I was way too steadfast to quit. They eventually relented in their cyber attacks, but this did little to stop the tension that arose as a consequence thereof; by then, I had transformed into a nervous, shivering wreck. I was unable to concentrate as I continued playing for an additional amount of time, making the decision to quit the game a few minutes later.

Closing Remarks

 I, at times, have found myself getting way too addicted to 8-Ball Pool (controlling my urges to play electronic games was never one of my strongpoints; although, this has greatly improved since the beginning of the awakened stages of my targeting), but have found success at reducing the game playing frequency since the night of this incident, for it had given me a reminder that tackling my targeting problem should be my main subject of interest. It had reminded me that more priority should be given to activities in association with my plight even if it is something as modest as research, information gathering, or fighting their efforts to manipulate me into living a sedentary lifestyle; I therefore, have started limiting myself to no more than two matches a day when playing the game. If I do play any electronic game in excess, I will be sure they're at least games that are designed to exercise the brain rather than nullify it.


I have heard of other Targeted Individuals (TI) playing highly addictive electronic games (more so than the pool game for Kindle Fire) to cope with their targeting, and this is a vice of which I would certainly not recommend. Just as drugs, television, and dare I say religion, electronic gaming is also a form of escapism that represses negative emotions rather than venting them. This type of practice could, in the long-term, do more harm to one's own mental/emotional health than good. Any number of things can happen to an individual once he/she had bottled up more anger than he/she can handle resulting in effects such as a nervous breakdown or violent/reckless behavior. If this type of effect does not occur then the mind could also go into a state of apathy where a person may see little or no incentive to do anything about his/her targeting. The type of vices I would recommend are those that vent rage in a more controlled and constructive manner; examples of such vices would be writing a detailed fantasy of malicious things happening to one or more perpetrators (wouldn't recommend publication), communicating to a supportive and trusted friend about one's plight---this will most likely be another TI, posting details about one's targeting to a social networking forum or sub-forum for TIs---if one trusts such sites, and blogging about one's own hardships. When blogging, it is best to write notes on as much perp activity as one can remember beforehand. Waiting for too long then blogging from scratch will very likely cause a person to experience trouble in recalling details while trying to write a blog entry; I speak of this from experience.Being able to recall one's own experiences with at least ninety percent accuracy is essential when trying to expose what is happening.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.