I’ve written this blog for 4 years now (thank you, WordPress.com for letting me know), and I really thought I haven’t really accomplished anything. But rethinking it, I think I have. For instance, a few changes were made on buses, in the library, etc.
When I first arrived in Las Vegas, there were perps who used to carry backpacks. All of them carried a backpack with pesticide in it and a sprayer. They sprayed the pesticide on me. I used to get on the bus and the bus company put in a lot of vents. The bus driver would open up the vent and the pesticide would come streaming down on me. I realized how dangerous this was to my body. I didn’t complain to the bus driver because I knew it would do no good. What I did instead was tell the bus driver he was spraying pesticide every day he hit the vent. And I told him/her that the stuff was going into his lungs for 8 hours a day. I told this to every bus driver on every bus. After a while, I noticed, the spraying stopped. Not to stop it from spraying me, but because the bus drivers probably complained about the pesticide going into their lungs. And up to this day, no spraying on the bus. And I think I had something to do with it.
And then when I came into the library, the library also put in a lot of vents. I would sit down to wait for a computer and the a fine mist of pesticide would come streaming down on me. I also played the same head games with the librarians. I told them that the thing that was being sprayed was pesticide and it was going into their lungs. The spray disappeared. The vents never go on no now. There are still a lot of vents in the library, but no more spraying. The librarians didn’t know that it was pesticide being sprayed. I made sure they knew.
And then when I went for a walk, the same thing happened. Guys would walk round with backpacks with pesticide on their backs and a sprayer. Well, I played with their heads, too. I told them, “Do you think spraying that stuff isn’t affecting your lungs? All the stuff you’re spraying is going into your lungs.” And I told them to read statics on men who do pesticide spraying for a living. Men who work spraying pesticide for a living end up very sick and it’s hard for them to breathe.
So, the spraying in the bus, library, street stopped. But there’s one place, the pesticide spraying hasn’t stopped, and that’s in my apartment. I’ve had no luck with idiots who spray this stuff all night. They think they’re powerful because they know I have to sleep in my bed and there’s nowhere I get away from them. But it’s also affecting their lungs. Years from it will start showing up in their lungs. When they can’t breathe, they’ll know that I was telling the truth. I will also feel the effects of pesticide spraying, but there’s really nothing I can do about it now. I wish I could. It makes me angry I can’t. Now, of course, they use their phones and computers to hit me in the library, on the bus and everywhere else I go.
So, in a way, I’ve stopped pesticide spraying. I’m sure I wasn’t the only way being sprayed with the awful stuff. I’m sure others were, too.
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