Beating Myself Up (with Others Helping)

I was getting ready to leave Lancaster and head for Providence, Rhode Island for a meeting that Freedom from Covert Harassment and Surveillance (FCHS) was sponsoring. Something went wrong however. I originally was not sure whether I would attend the meeting in Providence, but decided on Wednesday (3/14/2012) that I would attend. I gave the moderator a call and told him that I want to attend the meeting. He mentioned in a conference call on TalkShoe that there were Targeted Individuals (TI) carpooling to the meeting and he would contact some of them if there are any TIs who cannot get there. There was a voicemail recording when I tried to call. I left a message asking about carpooling. I later called Amtrak's automated service to check the cost of boarding a train to Providence. It would cost a total of two-hundred four to three-hundred dollars for a round trip. I decided not to take the train and waited for the moderator to call me back.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I had not heard from the moderator, so I decided to call him again during my fifteen minute break at work. I still received a voicemail recording and left him another message. I made another attempt later during my half-hour break and still received a voicemail recording. I hung-up the phone instead of leaving a message that time. He called me back five minutes later and told me that he would call somebody and have him call me for arrangements. I received some intimidation at work after returning from break. After getting home from enduring the intimidation, I left my apartment to get a few things at CVS Pharmacy. I returned from the pharmacy later and passed a male child of approximately nine. He was with his family while sitting on a porch. He stared at me and I stared at him momentarily. He then yelled, "it's the meeting-guy" and looked over at his mother.

Friday, March 16, 2012

I did not hear from the contact and suspected that the perps were blocking my calls. I called the moderator back to ask if the man mentioned that he had trouble getting hold of me. He told me that there was never any mention of that. I told him I never heard from that guy and he asked me if I checked out Amtrak. I answered that it turned out to be too expensive. He suggested that I take a train to Philadelphia then a bus service called, "Mega-Bus" to Providence. He would later arrange for a ride back to Lancaster when the meeting is over. He told me that the fare for Mega-Bus mostly costs fifteen dollars. I tried calling this company to find out for sure about the fare. One customer service representative told me that they don't go to Providence, but I later called back to hear a different person tell me that they do go to Providence, but through a connection to New York. She also told me that the trip from Philadelphia to New York would range from seventeen to twenty-one dollars while the trip from New York to Providence would range from sixteen to one-twenty-nine dollars. I found the Providence trip too pricy. I was stomped on making a decision. I should have asked about the fare for specific times, but instead said "thank you" to her and disconnected the call. I was planning to leave my apartment to do some shopping at Wal-Mart and take my laptop to a Wi-Fi hotspot to use Mega-Bus' website to look up fares if I have enough time. I was feeling tired however and decided to lay down first. I figured the perps would use electronic weapons to force me to sleep---this technology had been possible since the 1930s as defined in Pages 31 & 32 of an e-book on organized stalking written by Eleanor White. I tried putting my head against the wall as I lay in bed to stay awake. That failed when I heard voices beaming into my head and immediately lost consciousness.

I awoken three hours later filled with anger. I decided to go out for a walk to remedy this tension. I originally planned  to continue with my plans to shop at Wal-Mart to do some shopping, but decided to put that off for the time being. I continued walking through whatever route came to mind. I was met with cars accelerating past me and blowing their horns. After I had finished my recreational walking, I decided to head to Giant and use their Wi-Fi at their marketplace cafe. I witnessed two police cars hiding in a parking lot and watching me while on my way over there. I went into the website of Amtrak to look up more options for fares. It was still too expensive so I decided to look into the Mega-Bus option. I had trouble figuring out what trips to take until I decided to take the 12:00 PM trip from Philadelphia to New York, then the 2:00 PM trip from New York to Rhode Island. I later realized that I erred in making that reservation. The information stated that the trip to New York would last from 12:00-2:00 PM. The Providence bus leaves New York at 2:00 PM. The thought didn't occur to me earlier that the Providence bus would leave at the same time that the New York bus arrives. I called Mega-Bus to cancel or change the reservation. Their customer service department was closed and the recording stated that it would open at 6:00 AM. I went home and went to bed. I received a call from the moderator. He told me he wanted to check-in with me. He also stated that I should by all means attend the meeting. He also told me about what they'll be discussing. I was excited while listening. When the conversation ended, I tried to go to sleep. I was disrupted with electronic harassment consisting of my foot burning and some rounds of Voice-to-Skull (V2K). I meditated in order to fight it and was successful.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

I awoken at approximately 3:30 AM. I was still exhausted, so I stayed in bed for further rest. I got out of bed at 5:00 AM and showered. I then ate breakfast while waiting until 6:00 AM to cancel my reservations. I tried to call at six, but a different recording stated that they open at 7:30 AM. I at first thought about taking the early train and just wait until 12:00 when I arrive at Philadelphia, but decided to wait until 7:30 AM to cancel or change the reservation. They told me there has to be twenty-four hours notice before I can cancel. As for changing, they told me I would have to show up in person. I walked to the train station and went to one of the electronic kiosks to purchase a ticket. The early train would leave at 7:55 AM. It was currently 7:53 AM and I figured that train might have already left because of their clock being different from mine. I stood there staring at the kiosk, wondering what to do. The screen automatically canceled because of my staying idle. I sat on the bench wondering if I should take the later train, which was at around 8:55 AM. I later figured that there might not be earlier seats available when I go to Mega-Bus to change my reservation. I also figured I would have to take the 12:00 PM and miss the Providence bus, resulting in having to take the later one. The overall results would be that the trip will last so long that the meeting will come close to over by the time I arrive. I decided to call the moderator and cancel. Two perps watched as I left the train station and one of them laughed.

I started walking home feeling upset with myself. I thought about the perp laughing at me and decided to go back and take an even later train. I arrived at the train station and still thought that it might not work. I sat on an outdoor bench wondering if I should still try to depart to Philadelphia and do something else. I felt that I just had to leave the shithole known as Lancaster, but at the same time felt stomped on what to do in Philadelphia. A stranger asked me if I know if the bus is still leaving. I answered that I didn't know. I was hoping he wouldn't try to make conversation with me because I was not in the mood to talk. I felt that I would explode if he did. I was relieved to find that he did not try to make conversation with me. I decided again to walk back home. I arrived feeling tired, depressed, and disappointed. I came close to tears, but suppressed it because I knew I was being watched IN MY OWN HOME. I tried to sleep only to get disrupted with constant V2K. I lied on the bed for several hours to no avail. I arose from bed and decided to examine some material I had for improvised shielding. I then headed out to purchase additional material for the improvisation.

I was on my way to an arts and crafts store---it is either called Michael's or AC Moore. I cannot remember for certain---when I received bombardment of roadside harassment. Most of the motorists gave me dirty looks while one guy with a green shirt in the front passenger seat cracked his knuckles at me in a manner to suggest that he would beat me to a bloody pulp. The next motorist was a piece of Puerto Rican garbage-bag that I knew from work. He gave me angry looks with sweat trickling down his skin. I gave him a similar look and he yelled, "Cabron (Spanish for asshole)!" A grey haired White-Bred in his early fifties decided to give me angry looks as well and I flipped him my middle finger. He looked even more angry and he moved forward to suggest that he would get out of the car and confront me. Apparently, he thought I was stupid enough to believe he could get of the car while it's still moving.

I entered the store when I arrived and found myself immediately confronted by perps. First, there was a female employee---who looked slightly chubby---whom stopped me asked if I needed help finding anything. I told her I need pouches. She then told me about the different pouches they had. She then proceeded to ask me some intrusive questions such as my purpose for using the pouches. I didn't feel comfortable telling her it was for shielding from electronic harassment, so I instead told her it was to store items. She asked me about the items I'm storing. I told her it was collectable coins. She continued following me around with a basket while pretending to browse items. She clearly wanted me to know she was watching me because only an idiot would believe that a store employee on duty would shop for items. I then saw the store employee huddle with a group of American Stasis on what to do about my shopping at her store and minding my own business. One of these Stasis was some woman that I see walking through Downtown streets regularly. A minute later, I continued to browse with the feeling that I'm being watched. I looked over my shoulder and saw the same employee staring at me in anger while on the phone. I felt the urge to raise awareness of the problem to the store employee, but could not bring myself to do it. There were however, other perps passing me. I spoke some words to them in a moderately loud voice as they passed. These words were "you're being lied to." Feeling that my voice wasn't loud enough, I silently told myself I had to talk a little louder (without yelling). I now realize that I was appealing to the liars. The store clerk was the one being told the lies. I then heard the clerk say on the intercom, "We need a security watch in Aisles One, Two, Seven, and Nine." I continued browsing for the right pouches when I decided to make the pouches myself. I picked-out some fabric and took it the register to find myself last in line. The employee told me to have a nice day as she walked past me. A family of perps immediately appeared behind me---I get this a lot when I'm in stores. I now suspect that the employee's "friendly goodbye" was a signal for these perps to appear behind me. Another cashier appeared at an unlit counter and said she can take the next two people in line. I moved to the counter while the perps behind me didn't. They left the store instead.     

Going for a Night Walk

I was asleep most of the day from being kept awake with electronic harassment in retaliation for exposing them in front of a bank surveillance camera and performing some gaslighting taunts against two of my Perps. This electronic harassment consisted mainly of attacks made on my penis, dream manipulation, and a side of Voice-to-Skull (V2K). I'll tell more about that in another entry, but right now I'll describe what I went through tonight when I decided to go out for a walk.

---

January 8, 2012

As I was leaving my apartment, I heard the sound of my upstairs neighbor and her friends banging on their floor. Everything seemed normal (except for a black SUV accelerating past me) until I got close to a street corner. That is when I heard the sound of somebody hooting and hollering. I crossed the street and came closer to a CVS Pharmacy. I saw two Black children running. The older child was pretending to chase the younger one. It became more evident that they were pretending when the older child stopped and looked me in face as if he knows me. I glanced at him for one second as I continued walking. I came toward a Black man whom had a brown pitbull on a leash. He answered a call made on his cell phone. He hung up his phone when I passed him and yelled, "We won!" He made that same hooting noise that he made earlier when I couldn't see him. I heard the sound of a dog's footsteps following me closely. The Black man then hooted again, yelling "We won! Put that in your pipe and smoke it!" He laughed afterward. I figured he was referring to some electronic attacks they made against me yesterday. I thought about responding at first, but decided to ignore him and keep walking. This is when I saw a police car pull in front of me upon crossing another street. 

I looked at the officers out of the corner of my eye and heard the front passenger one utter, "You shouldn't be out at this time of night."

I'll be out anytime I want, I thought to myself as I kept walking. Why can't you guys come after criminals instead of harassing innocent people like me? If you all came after criminals, Lancaster wouldn't be on the list of America's most dangerous cities (I once overheard this from a woman while waiting for a bus, but am now starting to think that was just a Psychological Operation [Psy-Op] ).

I kept walking until I arrived at the corner of Lemon Street and College Avenue. I turned right and headed Northward. I stopped at a street corner located at College Avenue and James Street. I  came close to a dead-end and saw three cars following each other closely until they stopped at a red light. The third car belonged to Franklin and Marshall College's security staff. I walked across the street and turned another right, heading East. I walked through James Street until I reached the corner of James and Prince. I turned left on Prince and headed Northward. As I was walking through Prince Street, I saw three Hispanic teenagers---two boys and a girl---who look like imitation Street Thugs. I noticed that one of my shoes were untied so I bent to tie it while moving out of the way of the teenagers. 

As they passed me, I heard the girl say, "How would you like me to punch you in the head?"

One of the boys responded to the threat as if the girl was talking to him.

I turned right when I reached the corner of Prince and Liberty. I continued walking through Liberty Street when I saw a blue car stop at an alley with its four-way flashers engaged. As I got closer to the car, I saw that it was full of Hispanic thugs. The car was blocking my way, so I waved at them and went around. One of the back passengers glared at me in surprise. I continued walking until I got approximately thirty feet from them. I looked over my shoulder to see if they were still watching me. I saw then looking right at me from out their windows. I started performing what I call a "Weed and Seed" walk. This is a certain type of walk that I've seen some of my stalkers perform to indicate that they are watching me. In this walk, they stick out their chest, spread out their arms, and move around their heads. I have seen only the male stalkers do it so far (including a nine-year-old boy). I call it The "Weed and Seed" walk because the people I believe are most primarily stalking me are members of an organization created by The U.S. Department of Justice called, "Weed and Seed." Performing this walk seemed to anger the Hispanic Perps even further. I stopped The Weed and Seed walk and returned to walking in a normal fashion. I then saw a dark red car pull out from another alley that had an elderly woman driving. She stopped at a parking lot near a bridge and engaged her four-way flashers. I looked at her for ten seconds and turned around. The woman left and drove through the bridge. I crossed the street when I started facing the bridge and walked across---there's a space for pedestrians. I ended up on Lititz Pike. I was on my way to a Giant located within that road. I continued seeing people watch me as I walked.

When I arrived at Giant, I entered through their cafe. I saw a group of people there most of whom had laptops, one of them was somebody from work---no surprises there. I sat at a table in front of him (the only vacant table with an electrical outlet) and set my laptop. I positioned myself so that the laptop faced my co-worker and started accessing the Internet through Giant's Wi-Fi network. I checked my e-mail and Facebook accounts first. I saw my co-worker get up and walk past me while looking through the corner of his eye with an angry glare. I got into Blogspot after finishing with the two accounts. I checked my traffic statistics then started typing this blog entry. The co-worker returned and sat at his seat.

Comment

Earth to Lancaster City Police: I will be out anytime I want. There is no curfew set for adults and I am over the age of eighteen. If I understand correctly, you have sworn to serve and protect the public trust, and the Constitution from enemies both foreign and domestic. Your oath was not to protect criminals and cowards from their own insecurities or to act as enforcers for a global dictatorship. Your working with criminals rather than coming after them is why crime is such a problem in this city. That is why gangs are on the rise as reported by the Lancaster Newspapers. Harassing a few select individuals that made The Federal Government's hit list is not going to stop the gang problem. It also makes you a domestic enemy of our constitution. How does that make you feel? I just wish I can read your thoughts the way you read mine, so I can find the answer to that question.

To the Black guy who declared, "We won" and told me to put it in my pipe and smoke it: You may have won the battle, but you did not win the war. Even if I die, you'll still never win the war because there's other Targeted Individuals (TI) besides myself whom are trying to expose you people. In case you're thinking otherwise, I do not mean just the Black Perps. I mean ALL of you people. There are people being targeted who come in all races as well as those doing the targeting, so your race card does not mean a damn thing.

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.

Urgent

I am getting ready to leave for work and a police officer is waiting for me outside my apartment. It may be a bullshit Psychological Operation, but I could be wrong. I plan to post a monologue on YouTube about what happened, if I don't it probably means I have been arrested on false charges.

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.

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.          

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.