Death Of The Working Class In 12 Charts

For you men who like charts, this is for you.

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Gang Stalking – I sometimes think…

WordPress (Photo credit: Adriano Gasparri)

I want to warn everyone to be careful when you go to the comment section.  WordPress will let me know what comments I receive it thinks is  “spam.”  And 100% of the time, it’s right.  I’ve checked the IP address of everything WordPress considers spam. And I’ve discovered that every one of the comments is considered “toxic.”   A site not to be trusted.  Probably someone wants to add more viruses to my computer.  So if something looks suspicious, no matter how attractive it sounds, don’t OPEN IT!

I’m sick of   some sicko entering my apartment every day.  I went out and bought lots of marbles and pebbles.  I put the marbles and pebbles all over the floor, especially near the entrance to my front door. I figure maybe I’ll get lucky and the criminal will fall. I will then call the cops and have him arrested.

I already had marbles out, but yesterday I added the pebbles.

When I returned home yesterday, I went to my mailbox to get my mail.  I have to climb a few steps to get to the mailbox.  As I climbed the stairs, there were pebbles leading up to the mailbox, lots and lots of them.  Which means the perps were giving me a message.  A message that they’d been in my apartment again and making me aware of it.  Basically telling me that the pebbles and marbles will not stop them.

I also put up an alarm that’s supposed to go off when someone tries to enter my apartment.  This morning someone sat in his car and ran his alarm non-stop.  Another message that they knew I’d put in an alarm.

These criminal bastards have to be stopped.  We can’t let what they do to us continue.  We have to get our lives back.

I’ve thought and thought about what I can do, but I come up empty. I’ve tried almost everything  I thought would get me help, but I’ve not been able to get any.

I’ve gone to the police, write my blog, wrote to Homeland Security, handed out flyers, made up a t-shirt letting people know what’s happening to me, visited ACLU office, tell everyone I meet about what’s happening to me, sent a fax to Senator Ron Wyden,  carried a sign on the sidewalk telling people about what’s happening to me.  And none of these work.  Most times, no one paid attention to me.  And a few were very rude.  I’ve been called a lot of names: bitch, crazy, go back to where you belong, we don’t want you here, beaten up, almost arrested, etc.

I really don’t know what else to do.  I’ve run out of ideas.

Do any of you out there have any ideas on how we turn what’s happening to us around?  I’d like to hear any ideas anyone has on what else I can do.  If it’s a good idea, I will do it, no matter the cost.

This thing we’re going through is not living.  It’s a living death.  I sometimes think I’d rather be dead. At least dead, I won’t have to put up with degradation of my spirit.

So if  any of you have any ideas, let me know.  Thanks.

I’ve  had a hard time writing my blog the last three days. The hackers keep removing my internet access. I have a new internet service. It’s called Cricket.  Don’t ever get this service. It’s worse than my old internet service.  From day one, the company gave the hackers information on me. There’s really no internet service you can trust. As with everything else, the Nazis always win.

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Anti-ACLU-2 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Gang Stalking – Another target commits suicide.

English: A Jumping Black Stallion. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

R.I.P. (Photo credit: André Banyai)

Today, I found out that one of the targets on Facebook killed herself.  Her name was Alva. She was 38-years old. In the prime of her life.  She  befriended me about a year ago, and what a beautiful woman she was. She seemed to be full of spirit, like a wild stallion.  But I guess no matter her spirit, she probably got worn out and decided life was no longer worth living.  I can understand the part about not thinking life is worth living anymore.  I’m sure all of us targets find ourselves thinking that way sometimes.

She killed herself because she couldn’t handle the harassment anymore.  She had enough of the bullshit and she couldn’t see any way out except to kill herself.

I’m sure all the bastards who caused her death are probably celebrating.  And I’m sure they’re continuing to harass others without a second thought.

I’m affected by her death because Alva was the first target I knew who killed herself.  I’ve heard of a lot of  targets who’ve killed themselves, but I didn’t know them.

I hear about targets killing themselves all the time, but  she  is someone who was a  breathing, living human being and I knew her.   I knew what she looked like, how she thought, and how her life was going. Most of the time, she gave back as good as she got.  When I thought of someone killing herself, she wasn’t the one I thought would do it.  She seemed so strong.

But I guess all of us have our “tipping point.”  A point we reach where we feel that our life is so miserable that death is better.

So, I say to Alva, may you rest in peace.  I’m sure your life is better than it was on earth.

And if there’s such a life as reincarnation, I hope you come back and haunt every bastard who caused your death.

Good-bye, Alva (R.I.P.).

And to all the targets out there, don’t let them win. If you need help, try to get help.  I know it’s hard because we can’t trust anyone, but maybe there’s someone who has a soul who will be willing to help you.

Love to all you targets. Take care of yourselves.  You all matter,  and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

And may all you miserable perp bastards go straight to HELL!

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Gang Stalking – Off Topic – PostaDay 2011 – Would you rather have the first word or the last?

Would you rather have the first word, or the last word in an argument? Some people prefer to speak first, others insist they have the advantage only if they get in the last word. Where do you stand?

I like to get in the last word. Somehow, getting in the first word doesn’t stand. Most people forget what the first word was, unless the word was  spectacular.   And even if they remember the first word, the one who is last can make  statement  that wipes out the first word.  Of course, there are people who get in the first word and will fight you to the death to keep their first word status.   If I meet  someone like this, I don’t argue.  I let them have the first,  last,  and every word in between.  To me, it’s not worth getting upset about.  Life is too short to argue about stupid nonsense.  It’s different, though, if it’s someone whose company I enjoy.   If we just goof around about who has the last word, then it’s enjoyable.  I’ve shut up a lot of people in my life. 

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