Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Stalkers Retaliate IV
I was at a coffee house typing a blog entry known as Heavy Metal Attack on my laptop---I had Internet at home, but my ISP is discontinuing it's services. Upon arriving home, I received retaliation through the use of my Perps increasing the frequency of their Electronic Weapons (EW). It began when I was lying in bed. I received a Voice-to-Skull transmission of a thirteen-year-old Black kid saying "jaw broken." I felt the sensation of my jaw involuntarily moving three seconds later. I have since felt sensations of pressure along various parts of my jaw and my teeth. I have also experienced increased pressure in my head and even felt sick to my stomach just a few hours ago (12/1/11 11:34 PM). I am wondering if I have some internal bleeding. I will consider getting a physical examination to see if I have any medical problems arising from these weapons. I will, of Course, not tell my doctor anything about the electronic weapons. I do have a small amount of fear that they will retaliate in ways that land me in the hospital and/or morgue, but also believe that this type of attack will happen anyway. I believe that they are gradually trying to destroy me already. That is one of the main purposes of the phenomena occurring against three-point-four (3.4) million Americans along with people in other parts of the world. The Elite have to "weed out" the "undesirables" and anybody whom might interfere with their plans for world government.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Heavy Metal Attack
I was having a dream that occurs at my workplace. This is how the dream went:
I am standing in front of some bathroom stalls when two Puerto Rican co-workers give me dirty looks. I glare at them and keep staring. The two walk away from my presence. A heavy metal tune comes into my head. This tune begins to play in the background. My psyche lights with pride. My eyes widen giving me a feeling of triumph.
I believe I was partially awake during the next phase of this episode:
The scene transforms to my bedroom. I am lying in bed hearing the same tune along with incoherent lyrics. The music seems to emulate from my radio. I feel the sensation of magnetic fields pulling me toward the radio. I find the music enticing, but dislike the feeling of being pulled. I resist the pulling by tensing my body. I smile and bob my head to express enjoyment of the music as I resist. "Is that music or noise," I ask myself. I then hear the sound of silence---the music had stopped playing. I become fully awake and aware, realizing that I never had my radio turned on. I say to myself, "wait a minute, is that Voice-to-Skull (V2K)?" I realize that my Perps beamed that music into my head as I slept.
I came to work approximately two and a half hours later and find a co-worker with a long goat-tee glaring at me. I stare back for two seconds then walk past him. I walk to the locker room and began hearing remarks made about me in Spanish that include the use of my first name in English. I began to suspect later that it was the "long goat-teed" co-worker who made the V2K attack against me as I slept. I do know that he is into heavy metal music and does happen to live close to me.
Note: I was once told by another Target that Perps make V2K Attacks by firing microwave radiation into the Target's window. However, I do not believe that is always the case. I actually suspect that the modern V2K is tower-based with a satellite guided aiming system. A Perp then uses a custom-made smart phone application to aim and fire the radiation. I would like to do more research to find out if there's any current data available. The only information I have found so far regards handheld or mounted weapons aimed directly at the target.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Discovery of Implants
I have suspected that my stalkers have placed implants in various parts of my body. The first time I had this suspicion was when I had awakened from my sleep one day and found a cup knocked over that was sitting on top the nightstand. I felt a pinch in the back of my head. The second time I had this suspicion is when I saw strange bubbles along my left leg, close to the knees. The third time is when I awoken from my sleep with swollen gums.
The second suspicion seems most substantial due to my ability to actually see the presumed implants. I also read about a Targeted Individual (TI) in an issue of Freedom from Covert Harassment and Surveillance's (FFCHS) newsletter whom had implants. He described them as "crater-like depressions" along the skin. I also saw a testimony given by a TI on YouTube about her implants. She supplied a photo and the surfaces on her skin had the same exact bubbles in the same exact location.
I have enclosed photos of the bubbles on my leg and will tell the full story of how I discovered them.
A. My stalkers implanted me with a tracking device.
The most likely cause of the disturbance.
B. I was coming down with cancer.
C. I was coming down with varicose veins.
Below are three photos of my presumed implants. Even though I discovered them in Early 2010, I did not take the photos until August 2011. The first is how it typically appears after I exercise.
The second suspicion seems most substantial due to my ability to actually see the presumed implants. I also read about a Targeted Individual (TI) in an issue of Freedom from Covert Harassment and Surveillance's (FFCHS) newsletter whom had implants. He described them as "crater-like depressions" along the skin. I also saw a testimony given by a TI on YouTube about her implants. She supplied a photo and the surfaces on her skin had the same exact bubbles in the same exact location.
I have enclosed photos of the bubbles on my leg and will tell the full story of how I discovered them.
Early 2010
I was exercising at the gym in my workplace. Mirrors surrounded the gym, mounted to its walls. I looked in on of the mirrors while lifting weights and noticed a bump on my left leg near my knee. I examined this region closely and suspected that it was one of three things.
A. My stalkers implanted me with a tracking device.
The most likely cause of the disturbance.
B. I was coming down with cancer.
I ruled this out when I noticed that the bumps did not spread. They stayed in their original position. It is common knowledge that cancer usually spreads. I would be dead or hospitalized by now if that had been cancer.
C. I was coming down with varicose veins.
I am thirty years of age, It is unusual for somebody this young to get bellicose veins.
Below are three photos of my presumed implants. Even though I discovered them in Early 2010, I did not take the photos until August 2011. The first is how it typically appears after I exercise.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Occupants Involved in Gang-Stalking
As everyone knows by now a movement was started against "corporate greed" called, "Occupy Wall Street." It has subsequently spread to other places throughout the United States including Pennsylvania. It even spread to Lancaster. I passed through the event one night as they were having their General Assembly and ten of the protestors started behaving like Perps. There were additional days when I passed through the event after checking my PO Box at the Post Office, which happens to stand down the street from the occupation. I would get covert harassment not only at the occupation, but also outside of it. Protestors would walk by my residence or hang around nearby to watch me leave or return. They have also followed me inside of stores and the Post Office. In addition (believe it or not), one of them even went as far as sneaking into my workplace disguised as an employee. I will describe the first round of occupation related harassment in this blog entry while describing the other occurrences in future entries.
October 22, 2011
I was on my way to a convenience store to purchase some items when I saw the occupation set up at Art Park. I looked at the signs they had against their information stand. I walked away and heard somebody yell, "General Assembly." I continued onward heading to my intended destination. I heard footsteps behind me on my way to the store. I stumbled upon a bumpy sidewalk. One of the people following me made noises to mimic my stumbling. I ignored the stalkers and continued walking.
I arrived at the store minutes later, looking for an item that I wanted to purchase. I came into the store to buy a pack of light bulbs and a gallon of water since an electronic harassment Perp destroyed two of my light bulbs at least several months ago. I had trouble finding the light bulbs, so I went for the water retrieving a gallon from one of the refrigerators. I retrieved with it a bottle of Sobe Life Water and took both items to the counter. I asked the cashier if the store sold light bulbs. She pointed behind me stating that they were on that shelf. I went to the shelf to retrieve the bulbs. The cashier scanned the items giving me the total afterward. I paid for the items and headed out. I originally planned to only walk back to my apartment, but decided to also wear a button depicting the blue indigo ribbon just to see how the protestors react. I figured there would be Perps at the Occupation, but wanted to ascertain an approximate percentage. As I headed back home, I stopped to read their signs again. A group of young men in their early twenties looked over their shoulder to stare at me, one of them in a hostile manner. I walked away from the sign after I finished reading and continued onward. As I approached the edge of the park, I saw a fat woman with short blonde hair---apparently dyed---wearing a tie-dye shirt sitting on a concrete wall staring at me. She spat on the ground as I passed her. I figured her as a Perp at that moment due to the action she performed. The spitting on the ground is a stimulus in which the Perps have me sensitized through a process called, Neuro-linguistic Programing (NLP). I felt like calling the woman a hypocrite. I figured at the time that The Military Industrial Complex (MIC) is one of the things she is supposedly protesting against, yet she's getting involved in an aspect of it. I continued walking rather than actually acting on the urge. Like most Targets, I have to be careful about the manner in which I stand against my Perps since they use stealth. If I had lashed against this woman, I would have appeared as the aggressor while she remained presumably innocent. I approached a concrete wall that bordered an apartment complex. There were three more young men congregated on a plateau, located between two cases of stairs, behind that wall. They leered over the edge of the wall to watch me. The feeling that they might throw things at me started to encamp my nerves. I moved as far from the wall as possible as I walked. The young men watched me instead of throwing things like I feared. I turned onto another street and passed a parking lot when a light suddenly flashed into my face. I turned and saw a pick-up truck pull into the lot with its high beams fully engaged. The truck contained three Rednecks, whom stared at me in a sinister manner.
When I arrived home, I unscrewed a light bulb that was burnt out. I heard the sound of cars blowing their horns from all directions as I carried out this chore. I inserted one of the new light bulbs and flipped the switch to test it. The light powered on for a split second than blew out. I suspected that either one of my Perps disabled the light bulb or that the "new" one was defective. I unscrewed the light bulb and inserted the other new bulb, testing it afterward. It worked at normal performance.
I arrived at the store minutes later, looking for an item that I wanted to purchase. I came into the store to buy a pack of light bulbs and a gallon of water since an electronic harassment Perp destroyed two of my light bulbs at least several months ago. I had trouble finding the light bulbs, so I went for the water retrieving a gallon from one of the refrigerators. I retrieved with it a bottle of Sobe Life Water and took both items to the counter. I asked the cashier if the store sold light bulbs. She pointed behind me stating that they were on that shelf. I went to the shelf to retrieve the bulbs. The cashier scanned the items giving me the total afterward. I paid for the items and headed out. I originally planned to only walk back to my apartment, but decided to also wear a button depicting the blue indigo ribbon just to see how the protestors react. I figured there would be Perps at the Occupation, but wanted to ascertain an approximate percentage. As I headed back home, I stopped to read their signs again. A group of young men in their early twenties looked over their shoulder to stare at me, one of them in a hostile manner. I walked away from the sign after I finished reading and continued onward. As I approached the edge of the park, I saw a fat woman with short blonde hair---apparently dyed---wearing a tie-dye shirt sitting on a concrete wall staring at me. She spat on the ground as I passed her. I figured her as a Perp at that moment due to the action she performed. The spitting on the ground is a stimulus in which the Perps have me sensitized through a process called, Neuro-linguistic Programing (NLP). I felt like calling the woman a hypocrite. I figured at the time that The Military Industrial Complex (MIC) is one of the things she is supposedly protesting against, yet she's getting involved in an aspect of it. I continued walking rather than actually acting on the urge. Like most Targets, I have to be careful about the manner in which I stand against my Perps since they use stealth. If I had lashed against this woman, I would have appeared as the aggressor while she remained presumably innocent. I approached a concrete wall that bordered an apartment complex. There were three more young men congregated on a plateau, located between two cases of stairs, behind that wall. They leered over the edge of the wall to watch me. The feeling that they might throw things at me started to encamp my nerves. I moved as far from the wall as possible as I walked. The young men watched me instead of throwing things like I feared. I turned onto another street and passed a parking lot when a light suddenly flashed into my face. I turned and saw a pick-up truck pull into the lot with its high beams fully engaged. The truck contained three Rednecks, whom stared at me in a sinister manner.
When I arrived home, I unscrewed a light bulb that was burnt out. I heard the sound of cars blowing their horns from all directions as I carried out this chore. I inserted one of the new light bulbs and flipped the switch to test it. The light powered on for a split second than blew out. I suspected that either one of my Perps disabled the light bulb or that the "new" one was defective. I unscrewed the light bulb and inserted the other new bulb, testing it afterward. It worked at normal performance.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Trying to Kill Me?
I have been receiving increased bouts of Voice-to-Skull (V2K) and Synthetic Telepathy (SynTel) attacks from my perpetrators. The increase started on November fifth at my workplace during lunch break. I was in the bathroom when I received V2K transmissions at intense enough frequency to cause near unconsciousness. The voices transmitted to my brain were of three co-workers. For four days onward, I received V2K and SynTel transmissions for virtually twenty-four hours a day. I would even wake from my sleep to find voices beamed into my head. There were even moments when I felt the urge to commit suicide, but remembered a promise I made on my Facebook page that I would do no such thing. I repeated that to myself as an affirmation every time I felt any such urge. I was talking with some other targets on TalkShoe and a woman by the name of Susan told me that the V2K is actually high level microwave frequencies that the Perps are firing at me. She advised that this was dangerous and life threatening. She gave me some shielding tips to help with the V2K. Susan as well advised me to ignore the V2K statements rather than respond or even think about them. I will admit that I was responding to them after the first several hours of enduring it. The attacks did decline by approximately ninety-seven percent when I tried ignoring the transmission. I later received a shielding tip from another target that helped a great deal.
Even though I do not remember the entire V2K/SynTel bombardment, I can provide details of some episodes, which I will post in a future entries.
Even though I do not remember the entire V2K/SynTel bombardment, I can provide details of some episodes, which I will post in a future entries.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Attempted Framing
Saturday October 8, 2011
After lifting weights and doing some push-ups at home, I left to go jogging at approximately 2:30 AM. I did not find anybody watching me near my neighborhood, but that changed when I reached the corner of North Queen Street. This is the point when I saw two vehicles accelerate past me in opposite directions. I waited for them to clear and crossed the street. I continued running until I reached the corner of Charlotte Street. That is where I turned and continued jogging Southbound. This entire block was deserted with not a human-being (or subhuman) in sight. I was practically alone other than satellite surveillance keeping tabs on me. The whole area reminded me of Rising Sun, Maryland at this time of morning. As I continued through the dark street, I came across a lit area where I found a bag of marijuana laying in the middle of the sidewalk. I do not know much about marijuana quantity, but I am guessing this bag was about a quarter ounce. The first thought to occur was "with all these drug addicts running around, the police are focused on me?" I stared at the bag as I continued running. When I reached the corner of King Street, I saw two cars pass me with a Hispanic woman in the front passenger seat of one, staring at me. "Yeah!" I shouted. This interjection was followed by the sounds of men howling from all directions. I ignored the howling as I continued running. I then saw a police car flashing its lights from a distance. When I reached closer to the location, I saw in front of the police car, a civilian vehicle and another police car behind it. I saw a female officer bent inside the back of the second patrol car and a male officer next to the driver's side door of the first patrol car. I looked inside the civilian vehicle as I jogged and saw nobody inside. For a few seconds, I thought the police were actually arresting somebody rather than stalking me. I later suspected that they were watching me, while pretending to arrest somebody to throw off any witnesses. I ran onward up a hill to get to Lime Street. I saw two young Black men of approximately nineteen years of age, standing at a corner to watch me when I reached that area. One of them was wearing a red baseball cap. I turned on Lime Street and continued running Northward until I reached my residence.
I started reflecting on the things I saw and heard when I returned home and started suspecting that the police left the bag of marijuana on the sidewalk to frame me for possession of marijuana. I figured they might have expected me to either lift the cannabis from the ground to examine it or pocket the contraband. They would in turn pop-up to surprise and arrest me. I wondered to myself if they really thought I was that stupid especially while knowing that I'm under surveillance.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Tampering with My WiFi
I was on my computer finishing a blog entry that I started. I ran into a combination of writer's block and lack of recall. I therefore, decided to close the document and read an entry from a blog that I am following. I first checked out an entry from On_Gangstalking only to find that it was just a link to a post from one of the blogger's other blogs. The name of the other blog was Targeted Survivor. I closed the window that contained the former and clicked on a link for an entry to the latter instead. I however, ran into trouble when I found that the page wasn't loading. I tried another blog called "A Target Individual's Guide to Homelessness." This blog also did not load. My last attempt was made when I opened a new window and tried to get into YouTube. This page failed to load as well. I figured that something was wrong with my Wi-Fi connection and that something was caused by an electronic harassment Perp. I looked at my modem and found a light turned out. I approached the modem to take a closer look and found that it was the light that indicates whether the signal is working. I suspected more that it was electronic tampering, but hope that it was just an ordinary glitch. I turned off my computer since I was having problems. To my astonishment, the signal started working again while my computer was shutting down. That is when I concluded that it was a case of electronic tampering. I figured that my stalkers blocked my signal then unblocked to indicate that they were messing with my Wi-Fi connection. "Goddammit," I thought to myself. "First my signal stops working now it turns back on when I turn off my computer, mother fuck!" I decided to restart my computer since my signal was restored and type this blog entry to report the Wi-Fi incident rather than reading someone else's blog.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Puerto Rican Perps
Neutral---A person whom is neither a Target nor a Stalker. The majority of them do not currently know anything about organized stalking.
There is a Puerto Rican festival occurring in Lancaster. I was on my way to run some errands when an interracial couple, consisting of a Puerto Rican man and White woman, passed me. The woman laughed and said, "you crack me up." I suspect that it was directed conversation towards me. The man looked me in the face like he was trying to be hardcore. I continued walking and passed through the festival only to find myself harassed by more Perps. I did get a negative feeling flowing through my nerves the minute I entered the festival.
I left the vicinity to look for a mailbox and could not find one. I thought there was one near the post office, but found that there was not a mailbox in sight. I did however see a police officer standing on the street talking on his cell phone. That is probably normal if the post office happened to be across the street from a police station. That does not mean the officer wasn't stalking me. I'll just give him benefit of the doubt for now since there were many officers patrolling the festival. I turned away from the post office and headed to the bank to deposit my paycheck through the Automated Teller Machine (ATM). I had to re-enter the festival to run this particular errand. I passed through it again and entered the section of the bank that has the ATM. The rest of the bank was closed. A family of Puerto Ricans followed me into the building, but did not make an ATM transaction. They instead stood and talked to each other as I pull my paycheck from my wallet and endorse it upon tearing it from the stub. I then pull my ATM card from the wallet and turn around to face the machine. The family immediately left. I walked to the ATM and place my card into the slot. Another Puerto Rican arrives and closes in behind me. I am riddled with tension and start getting the feeling that he's going to rob me---I suspect that is the kind of feeling he wanted me to experience. I feed my paycheck through the ATM upon it prompting. The ATM then asks me if I would like cash-back from the deposit. I am standing there trying to make a decision. The tension gets stronger as I am standing. I make the decision to get a small amount of cash back. I eject my card upon getting the cash and wait for a receipt (I already got one for the deposit). I find that I am not getting it. I look at the Perp out of the corner of my eye and see that he his glaring at me. Most people might say he just wants me to hurry up, but I doubt that is his only reason for glaring. I leave the ATM and put my cash and card in my wallet. The Perp is using the ATM and I decide to go back and get a mini-statement. I wait for the Perp to finish. He looks over his shoulder as if to suspect that I am up to no good---now he knows how I feel. He is approximately sixteen to nineteen years of age and has a shaved head with a red, white, and blue headband over it. He finishes using the ATM and I approach it to make the final transaction. I received my mini-statement and ejected my card. I left the ATM and look at the documents, placing them in my wallet and leaving the bank.
I head for a another mailbox that I know. I stop at a street corner to watch for traffic. Two Puerto Rican teenagers close in on me with bikes and stop. I cross the street when traffic clears. I leave the festival and arrive at the mailbox to find that the postal worker stops collecting the mail at two 'o clock in the afternoon on Saturdays; it is closer to five 'o clock. "Son of a bitch," I say to myself. I head back home and find another Puerto Rican Perp dressed in a red---one of their colors---hooded sweatshirt. He is watching me while flashing his cell phone. I pull my DV Camera and start filming. He starts looking away from me. A Puerto Rican couple is in front of me at first, but turned to climb some concrete stairs. I move the camera away from the "Red" Perp. I moved the camera back on the Perp the minute I thought the couple cleared, but accidentally flashed the camera at the man. I move the camera away.
The woman makes a statement in Spanish and yells, "what the fuck you recording?"
I do feel a surge of fear upon hearing the expression of hostility. I stopped recording and turn the camera off, hearing the woman yell, "asshole" upon powering down.
I have thought of posting the video on YouTube at first, but examined the video and fell under the impression that it may come close to evidence of gang-stalking, but is not quite substantial. I was thinking that any Neutral who viewed the video would interpret the scene as the Puerto Ricans getting mad at me for filming them. I would really like to get footage that will prove without any room for doubt in a Neutral's mind, that gang-stalking does exist and I am an actual target.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Just Like The Old COINTELPRO?
To all Christians reading this blog entry: You will find a paragraph in this article containing Anti-Christian statements. This is NOT to insinuate that I hate all Christians. I just find that many, if not the majority of those practicing your religion are hypocrites with distorted morals.
July 21, 2011
I was feeling tense from some previous rounds of harassment and intimidation. I anticipated on going for a walk to release the tension. My nerves for feeling shot, so I was unsure about whether to go out. I lay in my bed while thinking about it. I hear cars accelerating outside my building. My phone rang and it was a friend of mine. We had an hour long conversation that involved my friend trying to convert me to Christianity. I was feeling irritated at every word of his preaching, but felt too mentally exhausted to concoct an effective argument. The conversation eventually ended. I continued considering the idea of going for that walk after disconnecting. I immediately heard a long blowing of a horn. I decided to go ahead and go for a walk. I took a bag full of items with me because I could not escape the feeling of that my items would get stolen.
I left my apartment and walked through the streets to find three Black thugs standing against a wall watching me. I stopped by a coffee house and found a fat, ugly Black woman (I believe she has been actively involved in spreading rumors about me) having a conversation with another young woman. I stood at the counter to wait for a clerk. The clerk turned out as the woman with whom the Black woman was conversing. I started remembering seeing her in there numerous times. I ordered what they call a Strawberry Freeze and took a seat at the other side of the building. I had noticed that there weren't too many people in the building. I caught the two women looking in my direction. My tension started rising. I had two buttons in my pocket about organized stalking. I was hesitant about putting one of them on at first, but decided to just try it. I immediately started feeling relieved. I put some earplugs in my ears, so I would not have to listen to any covert harassment. I started writing some thoughts of mine down in a notebook. I lost my train of thought, so I took out a book and started reading it. The title of this book is "Virtue of Selfishness" written by Ayn Rand. I started feeling more relieved at every word for most were the words of truth and true virtue. Reading this book has greatly pissed off my stalkers by the way, perhaps because it indirectly speaks the truth about their mentality; especially the chapter entitled "Collectivized Rights."
I then left the coffee house and continued walking through the streets, going wherever my mind takes me. I came across a large number of Latino Street Thugs stalking me, along with lesser percentages of Black and White ones. I passed by an idle car full of White stalkers with the engine running. "Don't you dare ask me that," one of them said. I turned to look at them and none were looking at me. They instead looked into space. I had no idea what the guy meant, so I wondered if they were talking to me. I continued walking and heard a door slam as I passed a night club. I turned right upon arriving at Mulberry Street and walked through there. It became peaceful and serene until I found a young Black man following me. He did not look like a Street Thug as my usual Black stalkers. He actually looked like a decent young man, whom exhibited the stereotypical traits of a college student. I was at first wondering if he was just an innocent bystander until I heard him clear his throat. My stalkers usually do that to indicate they are part of the program. I turned another right when I arrived at West Lemon Street. I re-encountered groups of Street Thugs when I reached the corner of Queen Street, most of them were also Latino. A preteen boy and his mother were part of the group. Both of them were sitting on a brick wall located in front of a tavern. I glanced at both with the corner of my eye and the boy just gave me an innocent, seemingly friendly expression. I still knew he was stalking me. When you have been targeted as long as I have, you develop a sixth-sense for these type of events. I arrived home and went to sleep.
July 22, 2011
I awoke the next morning and prepared for work. I currently commute with a co-worker/friend to get to work. I placed the button on my shirt while waiting for that person. When the co-worker arrived, I got inside his car. He had another passenger in the backseat. Both stared at my button, wondering about the meaning of it. When we arrived at work, I removed the button before entering the building. Even though, I felt that I was doing nothing wrong, I still had a feeling that the material was too sensitive to wear on the job.
More trouble ensued when I ended my shift. A co-worker by the name of Melvin V. first gave me dirty looks. "I'm not letting the fat-fuck scare me," I told myself. I commuted with another person to get home since my friend had to leave early for an emergency. The other co-worker asked me if I was all right with him leaving me in front of a local pizzeria. I told him that I was okay with it. The pizzeria was located in a neighborhood that is considered undesirable. I had no fear for I have been down there before without incident. I walked home the rest of the way. My shorts were falling, so I stopped to pull them up.
A man sitting on a porch told me to "come here."
I came to him and he asked, "Where are you from?"
I paused to concoct a reply because I figured he was challenging me.
"Are you from Lancaster?" He continued.
"Not originally."
"Are you staying at The Rescue Mission?"
"No"
"Are you getting high? Are you doing shit around here?"
"No"
"What's your name?"
"Robert"
"What are you doing here, Robert?"
"I'm just heading home, that's all;" I replied in a tone of vigilance as I pointed Northward.
"Well Robert, you see this?" He pulled away his sleeve to expose his arm, pointing at a tattoo of a five-pointed crown with a heart at the top-center. "This is Latin King, you are not to be around here unless you're doing shit."
I figured that "doing shit" must mean selling drugs.
"Now go on, get Robert." He waved his hand Northward.
I walked away feeling some tension increasing into bitter rage. "No Puerto Rican criminal is going to come into my country and tell me what to do," I thought to myself.
It is said that during the Old COINTELPRO (1956-1971) The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) enlisted people in the mafia to carry-out their operations. So Perhaps, Department of Homeland Security (DHS) is enlisting members of street gangs to convey their bidding in the current "COINTELPRO" operations.
I arrived at the city center to find three people staring at me with sinister smiles to indicate that they know what happened. They had the appearance of decent people, so I figured they must be Christian fanatics. There are a good number (not all) of Christians, whom believe that they are righteous no matter the deeds they perform simply because they have their phony-boloney God to "cleanse" them of their sins. This is why Christianity seems to thrive on hypocrisy. Yet, Christians wonder why church attendance has declined in the last forty years. They have wondered why it was popular during the 1970s to declare that "God is dead." This type of behavior is why. It is also a good example of why I choose not to practice religion. However, I could be wrong about the three "decent" citizens being Christians. They could very well be Liberals who want so badly to achieve a Socialist society that they will use ALL means to obtain that goal. I do know that Liberals like to defend criminals while calling for the ban on the private ownership of firearms by actual law abiding citizens. Seeing Christians act in a hypocritical manner is strengthening my drive to stay away from religion. Seeing Liberals behave in their own hypocritical manner---like Communists in other words---is driving me increasing to becoming a born-again Conservative from a political standpoint.
I wore a button bearing my "mark" the previous night and morning. So, it seems likely that this Latin King decided to show me his mark. If our government is not enlisting modern gang-members into their Stasi-like COINTELPRO operations, then that must be an awfully strange coincidence.
I arrived home and decided to report to the police station to file a complaint. I took all precautions necessary for I fear that the police would arrest me on false charges. They have before harassed me for attempting to file a complaint as I had stated in the About Me (in Detail) section of this blog. I departed from my apartment only to find a young Hispanic male following me. I performed some counter-antagonism. He started getting nervous. The Hispanic male was wearing a shirt that bore a certain shade of yellow that most commonly refer as "gold." I remembered that "gold" is a Latin King color. "Are you Latin King?" I thought to myself. "Why would you be afraid of a "sissy" White boy like me?" The male turned at the corner and I continued going straight. I passed a Deli and shortly heard the sound of woman yelling, "Hey!" I turned around and saw that it was one of the workers there, whom has previously performed harassment skits against me. I figured she was imitating the Latin King to rub in the incident.
July 21, 2011
I was feeling tense from some previous rounds of harassment and intimidation. I anticipated on going for a walk to release the tension. My nerves for feeling shot, so I was unsure about whether to go out. I lay in my bed while thinking about it. I hear cars accelerating outside my building. My phone rang and it was a friend of mine. We had an hour long conversation that involved my friend trying to convert me to Christianity. I was feeling irritated at every word of his preaching, but felt too mentally exhausted to concoct an effective argument. The conversation eventually ended. I continued considering the idea of going for that walk after disconnecting. I immediately heard a long blowing of a horn. I decided to go ahead and go for a walk. I took a bag full of items with me because I could not escape the feeling of that my items would get stolen.
I left my apartment and walked through the streets to find three Black thugs standing against a wall watching me. I stopped by a coffee house and found a fat, ugly Black woman (I believe she has been actively involved in spreading rumors about me) having a conversation with another young woman. I stood at the counter to wait for a clerk. The clerk turned out as the woman with whom the Black woman was conversing. I started remembering seeing her in there numerous times. I ordered what they call a Strawberry Freeze and took a seat at the other side of the building. I had noticed that there weren't too many people in the building. I caught the two women looking in my direction. My tension started rising. I had two buttons in my pocket about organized stalking. I was hesitant about putting one of them on at first, but decided to just try it. I immediately started feeling relieved. I put some earplugs in my ears, so I would not have to listen to any covert harassment. I started writing some thoughts of mine down in a notebook. I lost my train of thought, so I took out a book and started reading it. The title of this book is "Virtue of Selfishness" written by Ayn Rand. I started feeling more relieved at every word for most were the words of truth and true virtue. Reading this book has greatly pissed off my stalkers by the way, perhaps because it indirectly speaks the truth about their mentality; especially the chapter entitled "Collectivized Rights."
I then left the coffee house and continued walking through the streets, going wherever my mind takes me. I came across a large number of Latino Street Thugs stalking me, along with lesser percentages of Black and White ones. I passed by an idle car full of White stalkers with the engine running. "Don't you dare ask me that," one of them said. I turned to look at them and none were looking at me. They instead looked into space. I had no idea what the guy meant, so I wondered if they were talking to me. I continued walking and heard a door slam as I passed a night club. I turned right upon arriving at Mulberry Street and walked through there. It became peaceful and serene until I found a young Black man following me. He did not look like a Street Thug as my usual Black stalkers. He actually looked like a decent young man, whom exhibited the stereotypical traits of a college student. I was at first wondering if he was just an innocent bystander until I heard him clear his throat. My stalkers usually do that to indicate they are part of the program. I turned another right when I arrived at West Lemon Street. I re-encountered groups of Street Thugs when I reached the corner of Queen Street, most of them were also Latino. A preteen boy and his mother were part of the group. Both of them were sitting on a brick wall located in front of a tavern. I glanced at both with the corner of my eye and the boy just gave me an innocent, seemingly friendly expression. I still knew he was stalking me. When you have been targeted as long as I have, you develop a sixth-sense for these type of events. I arrived home and went to sleep.
July 22, 2011
I awoke the next morning and prepared for work. I currently commute with a co-worker/friend to get to work. I placed the button on my shirt while waiting for that person. When the co-worker arrived, I got inside his car. He had another passenger in the backseat. Both stared at my button, wondering about the meaning of it. When we arrived at work, I removed the button before entering the building. Even though, I felt that I was doing nothing wrong, I still had a feeling that the material was too sensitive to wear on the job.
More trouble ensued when I ended my shift. A co-worker by the name of Melvin V. first gave me dirty looks. "I'm not letting the fat-fuck scare me," I told myself. I commuted with another person to get home since my friend had to leave early for an emergency. The other co-worker asked me if I was all right with him leaving me in front of a local pizzeria. I told him that I was okay with it. The pizzeria was located in a neighborhood that is considered undesirable. I had no fear for I have been down there before without incident. I walked home the rest of the way. My shorts were falling, so I stopped to pull them up.
A man sitting on a porch told me to "come here."
I came to him and he asked, "Where are you from?"
I paused to concoct a reply because I figured he was challenging me.
"Are you from Lancaster?" He continued.
"Not originally."
"Are you staying at The Rescue Mission?"
"No"
"Are you getting high? Are you doing shit around here?"
"No"
"What's your name?"
"Robert"
"What are you doing here, Robert?"
"I'm just heading home, that's all;" I replied in a tone of vigilance as I pointed Northward.
"Well Robert, you see this?" He pulled away his sleeve to expose his arm, pointing at a tattoo of a five-pointed crown with a heart at the top-center. "This is Latin King, you are not to be around here unless you're doing shit."
I figured that "doing shit" must mean selling drugs.
"Now go on, get Robert." He waved his hand Northward.
I walked away feeling some tension increasing into bitter rage. "No Puerto Rican criminal is going to come into my country and tell me what to do," I thought to myself.
It is said that during the Old COINTELPRO (1956-1971) The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) enlisted people in the mafia to carry-out their operations. So Perhaps, Department of Homeland Security (DHS) is enlisting members of street gangs to convey their bidding in the current "COINTELPRO" operations.
I arrived at the city center to find three people staring at me with sinister smiles to indicate that they know what happened. They had the appearance of decent people, so I figured they must be Christian fanatics. There are a good number (not all) of Christians, whom believe that they are righteous no matter the deeds they perform simply because they have their phony-boloney God to "cleanse" them of their sins. This is why Christianity seems to thrive on hypocrisy. Yet, Christians wonder why church attendance has declined in the last forty years. They have wondered why it was popular during the 1970s to declare that "God is dead." This type of behavior is why. It is also a good example of why I choose not to practice religion. However, I could be wrong about the three "decent" citizens being Christians. They could very well be Liberals who want so badly to achieve a Socialist society that they will use ALL means to obtain that goal. I do know that Liberals like to defend criminals while calling for the ban on the private ownership of firearms by actual law abiding citizens. Seeing Christians act in a hypocritical manner is strengthening my drive to stay away from religion. Seeing Liberals behave in their own hypocritical manner---like Communists in other words---is driving me increasing to becoming a born-again Conservative from a political standpoint.
I wore a button bearing my "mark" the previous night and morning. So, it seems likely that this Latin King decided to show me his mark. If our government is not enlisting modern gang-members into their Stasi-like COINTELPRO operations, then that must be an awfully strange coincidence.
I arrived home and decided to report to the police station to file a complaint. I took all precautions necessary for I fear that the police would arrest me on false charges. They have before harassed me for attempting to file a complaint as I had stated in the About Me (in Detail) section of this blog. I departed from my apartment only to find a young Hispanic male following me. I performed some counter-antagonism. He started getting nervous. The Hispanic male was wearing a shirt that bore a certain shade of yellow that most commonly refer as "gold." I remembered that "gold" is a Latin King color. "Are you Latin King?" I thought to myself. "Why would you be afraid of a "sissy" White boy like me?" The male turned at the corner and I continued going straight. I passed a Deli and shortly heard the sound of woman yelling, "Hey!" I turned around and saw that it was one of the workers there, whom has previously performed harassment skits against me. I figured she was imitating the Latin King to rub in the incident.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Protesting for The First Time
I have experienced an intense number of stalking and harassment since my anticipated protest on Independence Day. However, it was on Monday, July 11, 2011 when I finally decided to execute a protest. I was finally pushed over the edge when a friend of mine---whom appears to know little about the organized stalking, but not everything---had his car mysteriously breakdown on him. This has happened on numerous occasions. I have always suspected that it was my stalkers whom were vandalizing his vehicle, probably to get to me. I decided to tape a sign to the back of a shirt that I had planned to wear for jogging. The sign said: "Stop Hidden Oppression." There was a URL at the bottom reading, "www.freedomfchs.org." I was heavily anxious about the reaction that I would generate. I figured that cars would blow their horns at me at the very least with police officers concocting a reason to arrest or commit me at the most. I took all precautions necessary before proceeding. I left my apartment with the sign on my shirt and ran through the streets, bearing the vital message. I stopped at a street corner located only about five-hundred feet from my apartment building, waiting for cars to pass, so I can cross the street. A woman stood behind me with a man silently reading my sign.
"I agree with you, sir!" She said to me.
I turned around as she repeated her statement. "Thanks," I replied.
Traffic had cleared, so I proceeded to jog across the street. I heard whispering as I continued jogging, but other than that, everything seemingly went back to normal (before my targeting). I came across another street corner waiting for busy traffic to clear. It was a one-way street and a construction vehicle stopped in the middle of his lane. Traffic seemed to stop on both lanes after that event. I proceeded across the street when a car came at me on the other lane. The driver yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ignored him and continued jogging. I ran back to my home covered in sweat and heavily panting. I removed my shirt to see if there were any sweat stains on the sign. There was tape lined against the sign on the inside of my shirt as well, so I only saw a few drops. I felt proud that I mustered the courage to get out and spread awareness of this system of oppression. I removed the sign and tape from the shirt, placing both aside. I drank some water and proceeded to remove the rest of my clothing to shower. I dressed with fresh new clothes afterward and headed out to run some errands. I experienced intimidation by Street Thugs. I passed a group containing three of them with one glaring at me. Another Street Thug then invaded my space to induce some fear into my mind. I first headed to the Post Office to check my PO Box then to the pharmacy to purchase some items. On my way to the pharmacy a jeep full of Street Thugs passed me with one in the backseat glaring me down. I arrived at the pharmacy and did some shopping. I waited at the check-out line once I have acquired everything and experienced directed conversation from a fat, ugly female Street Thug talking on her cell phone. She said in the middle of her conversation, "He's not going to have a job." I interpreted this statement as meaning they would retaliate in a manner to effect my employment, I began worrying.
I was on my way to work the next morning when I was confronted by a number of vehicular harassment.It went as follow:
---A police officer circled me three times
---Five commercial vehicles in a row passed me.
---Two Maryland license plates passed me that I recognize.
---A Tennessee plate passed me with the driver glaring.
---A car passed me slowly with a Ron Paul bumper sticker. This was an act of projection---using symbolism to remind the target that he/she is under surveillance. I had a conversation with a TI friend named "Alan" about Ron Paul the previous day.
---Last, but not least, a tow truck stopped next to me just sitting idle. I wondered if the driver was going to go. Suddenly, a young Amish man (yes, even the Amish are involved in organized stalking) rose from the back seat as quickly as a Jack-in-The-Box and yelled "Queer-boy." He ducked just as quickly.
When I arrived at work, a member of management stared at me in a hostile manner. I figured more trouble would come. I called Gerald (See About Me [in Detail]) to tell him about the whole thing after arriving home from the end of my shift. He advised me to cutback on the activism.
"I agree with you, sir!" She said to me.
I turned around as she repeated her statement. "Thanks," I replied.
Traffic had cleared, so I proceeded to jog across the street. I heard whispering as I continued jogging, but other than that, everything seemingly went back to normal (before my targeting). I came across another street corner waiting for busy traffic to clear. It was a one-way street and a construction vehicle stopped in the middle of his lane. Traffic seemed to stop on both lanes after that event. I proceeded across the street when a car came at me on the other lane. The driver yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ignored him and continued jogging. I ran back to my home covered in sweat and heavily panting. I removed my shirt to see if there were any sweat stains on the sign. There was tape lined against the sign on the inside of my shirt as well, so I only saw a few drops. I felt proud that I mustered the courage to get out and spread awareness of this system of oppression. I removed the sign and tape from the shirt, placing both aside. I drank some water and proceeded to remove the rest of my clothing to shower. I dressed with fresh new clothes afterward and headed out to run some errands. I experienced intimidation by Street Thugs. I passed a group containing three of them with one glaring at me. Another Street Thug then invaded my space to induce some fear into my mind. I first headed to the Post Office to check my PO Box then to the pharmacy to purchase some items. On my way to the pharmacy a jeep full of Street Thugs passed me with one in the backseat glaring me down. I arrived at the pharmacy and did some shopping. I waited at the check-out line once I have acquired everything and experienced directed conversation from a fat, ugly female Street Thug talking on her cell phone. She said in the middle of her conversation, "He's not going to have a job." I interpreted this statement as meaning they would retaliate in a manner to effect my employment, I began worrying.
I was on my way to work the next morning when I was confronted by a number of vehicular harassment.It went as follow:
---A police officer circled me three times
---Five commercial vehicles in a row passed me.
---Two Maryland license plates passed me that I recognize.
---A Tennessee plate passed me with the driver glaring.
---A car passed me slowly with a Ron Paul bumper sticker. This was an act of projection---using symbolism to remind the target that he/she is under surveillance. I had a conversation with a TI friend named "Alan" about Ron Paul the previous day.
---Last, but not least, a tow truck stopped next to me just sitting idle. I wondered if the driver was going to go. Suddenly, a young Amish man (yes, even the Amish are involved in organized stalking) rose from the back seat as quickly as a Jack-in-The-Box and yelled "Queer-boy." He ducked just as quickly.
When I arrived at work, a member of management stared at me in a hostile manner. I figured more trouble would come. I called Gerald (See About Me [in Detail]) to tell him about the whole thing after arriving home from the end of my shift. He advised me to cutback on the activism.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The Stalkers Retaliate III
I actually wrote this blog entry at approximately 5:14 AM via BlogSpot Mobile Text Messaging. I checked the blog entry on my computer to find that it was split into three fragments. I took the liberty of consolidating the fragments into one entry. I have also added some more text to summarize an episode that I experienced later at night.
My stalkers are hitting me with microwave weapons at slightly greater intensity than usual. My left ear is aching at a moderate level and my cell phone is charging on its own. I had a Perp perform a harassment skit against me in a parking lot prior to this occurrence. I believe that this is some sort of scare-tactic in response to some work I was performing on this blog. I am currently in the break-room of my workplace; my shift starts at 6:30 AM.
Follow-Up
I arrived home from work at four-twenty-five in the afternoon and immediately departed from the apartment to buy some products from a nearby pharmacy. I found some people looking at me in a manner to suggest that I have no right to be out. There were three people giving me this type of stare that I could remember. The first person is some piece of inbred White Trash (as many people in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania) with a shaved head. He was heavyset and might have had bad teeth---I would not be surprised. There was also a Black girl, approximately eight years of age with short hair. She was standing on her porch stretching at the time. The third person is boy, eight to ten years of age, sitting in the backseat of a car. He appeared to be White, Hispanic, or a mix of both races. However, both of his parents appeared to be White, so perhaps the child just had a tan. I took down the license plate number of the vehicle, but will not publish it here since I have no proof that the family is involved in stalking me. They could have just heard rumors about me from the people whom are involved. Absolutely nobody glared at me or showed any other signs of suspicion once I entered the pharmacy. There were also no pieces of subhuman garbage inside the pharmacy, just decent people. I left upon purchasing my items and walked back home. I began hearing cars blow their horns in rhythmic patterns from all directions. I continued walking and heard somebody yell my name while passing a tavern. I stopped to look for the person and found a young man watching me while hiding behind a concrete wall, mounted to the side of a stairway. This person appeared to be White/Hispanic with short hair that may have been filled with hairspray or some other chemical product. I am estimating his approximate age range at twenty to twenty-three.
I fell asleep two hours later. I had awakened at eleven-twenty-five at night. I arose from my bed to have a meal and went to do my laundry after finishing. There's a small facility near my apartment building for tenets to do their laundry. I took my clothes to that facility and placed them inside the washer. After dispensing the detergent, I deposited quarters inside and pressed the Start button to activate the machine. The washer failed to start. I checked the back to see if it was plugged into the socket, it was as normal. I kept pushing the button to no avail. I immediately suspected that my stalkers were connected to the machine's lack of functioning. I was thinking that they used some type of electronic bug to disable the washer or one of their satellite guided microwave weapons. I finally gave-up and took my clothes out of the washer. I took my clothes back inside the apartment. I looked out the window to see if anybody comes inside to use the facility. Nobody entered the small building, but I did see a young man walk past the apartment complex and the laundry facility. The young man was walking from the same area where the basement is located. I first thought that he was visiting one of my neighbors, but now suspect that he used the fuse box to disable the washer.
This individual is a White male, approximately nineteen to twenty-one years of age with an approximate height of five-foot, eight inches. He was slim with neck length dark hair and was wearing a black shirt and black shorts.
Just as the attacks described in the text message, I suspect that all of these other episodes were retaliation for some work I was conducting on my blog. I was working on a glossary of terms associated with organized stalking. This glossary will contain a mixture of already established terms and terms of my own invention. I was working on this glossary shortly before leaving for work and was confronted with a slight noise campaign.
Just as the attacks described in the text message, I suspect that all of these other episodes were retaliation for some work I was conducting on my blog. I was working on a glossary of terms associated with organized stalking. This glossary will contain a mixture of already established terms and terms of my own invention. I was working on this glossary shortly before leaving for work and was confronted with a slight noise campaign.
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