I finally got myself out the door and went looking for an apartment. Of course, what I thought would happen, happened. Cars following me all over the place. Idiots on foot showing up everywhere I went. Just typical gang stalking behavior. But today was not a good day to go looking for an apartment, especially if someone is walking. The temperature in Las Vegas is hot, hot, hot, hot. It feels like the temperature is about 140 degrees. I began to sweat as soon as I stepped out my door. I thought of turning around and going back into my apartment, but I told myself I had to look at one apartment. So off I went.
I walked west on the road in which I live. I really want to stay in this general area. It’s a perfect place for me. I don’t need a car, there are plenty of places where I can shop; eat; the library is one block away; the buses go east,west, north and south; there’s a shopping center three blocks away; and the Strip, if I walk to it, is 30 minutes away, if I take the bus it is 7 minutes. It’s a very interesting area, and I like it. I’d like it more if I could enjoy it more, but because of the gang stalking I’m limited in what I can do.
I saw an apartment complex that looked interesting, so I walked over to it. The manager’s office was in the front and accessible to me. I opened the door, and a man was coming out as I was entering. I told the manager that I was looking for a studio or 1 bedroom apartment. I could tell that the woman knew who I am. She looked at me as if she was staring at a ghost. But I ignored her and told her I was interested in a studio or 1 bedroom apartment. The woman kept looking at me and it seemed to me as if she was going to have a heart attack or something bad was going to happen. She went into her sales speech at warp speed. Told me how much the apartment was, but I didn’t hear anything she said. I decided this was not the right place for me. I didn’t want to have to deal with someone who was such a nervous wreck. So I thanked her, and I as I was walking out, the man who was going out as I was coming in, returned. He also realized who I am and, I suppose, he returned to be her savior. I could tell by the look he gave me.
This is the kind of behavior we targets have to deal with all the time. People looking at us if we’re the worse people in the world. When people first meet us, it’s fear that I see in their faces. So we don’t even get a chance to talk to them and let them know that we’re not someone to be afraid of. The fear’s already been imprinted in their minds, and nothing we say or do will change their minds. The government does a good job of painting us as crazy, vicious people. Murderers, rapists, serial killers don’t get treated as bad as we do.
I really hate the idea of looking for an apartment, but I have no choice. I really abhor the place I’m living in. It’s disgusting. I figure wherever I go can’t be worse than the dump in which I now live. I’m going to make sure that the next apartment I live in has a clean carpet; has no holes in the walls, floors; the refrigerator looks likes it’s hasn’t been tampered with, and the bathroom looks like it’s been fixed. I will not end up in a dump like this again. When I find a new apartment, if they do the same thing to me again, they’re going to be seeing a lot of Code Enforcement in the complex. No longer will I put up with such treatment. I’ve had enough of being treated like dirt. They’re going to treat me like a human being. I haven’t done anything to anybody to get such treatment. I’m an a decent, caring human being.
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