English: Official photograph portrait of former U.S. President George W. Bush. Português: Foto oficial de George W. Bush, presidente dos Estados Unidos da América. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I went apartment hunting again. Next to finding a job, this must be the worse thing for targets. Everywhere I go, I see the looks I get from everybody. They either act extremely friendly (sickening), or give me nasty looks.
I found an apartment I like, but the rent is too high. My first concern is safety. And this apartment was the safest one I’ve come across. Of course, there were perps everywhere, but at this place I’d be able to handle them. I wouldn’t have to look at any of them. Only when I get my mail. The apartment’s surrounded by a hospital, diagnostic clinic and a grade school. Which means at nighttime, I wouldn’t have to worry about a lot of people hanging around the complex. And it faces Channel 10 News. I think news people are too busy to perp someone when they’re working. And even if perps hang around, news people would be on the lookout for anything going on around them.
I was listening to the radio and got this info. I thought you’d like to know about it. Police no longer need a warrant to look at any information on your phone, your cloud, energy records, doctor’s records, etc. The court ruled that the information on a cloud belongs to the people who own the cloud. Your energy records are not private, so they can be shown to anyone who needs info about you. And your phone records are also not private. If the police want to know who you call, they have the right to the information without getting a warrant. The idiots on the court took away all your rights. Whatever info someone wants, he can get it. Also, if you hire a private detective to do some work for you, that’s also not private. The detective has to give up the information if police ask for the information. Isn’t it nice to know that you don’t own your private information? A warrant is no longer needed for most things. You can thank President Bush for this.
The thought of looking for an apartment tomorrow makes me want to scream.
Summer’s coming, so the gang stalkers are back to their game of leaving dog poop in the front of my apartment. They want the front of my apartment to attract flies, ants, roaches, etc. I went out this morning and the first thing I see, dog poop in the front of my apartment. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s dog poop, it looks more human than animal. It’s very small and isn’t as dark as regular dog poop. I know you’re probably reading this and getting disgusted. I’m disgusted just writing it. But my blog is like a diary I keep, so I have to write about what happens to me. I never catch who’s doing it. They make sure I’m not around, or are not leaving my apartment before they leave it. Some day I’ll catch them. I think the b—h upstairs put it in front of my apartment. When I stepped out to throw away my garbage she was near my apartment and acted very suspicious. I wondered what she was up to. So I’m pretty sure she did it, but since I didn’t see it, I can’t be 100% sure.
The woman upstairs has been in jail. She once threatened to break my neck. I wrote about this when it happened. What gets me is that they have criminals going after good people. I would bet that 65% of the people who harass us are felons. I think they’re offered time off if they become gang stalkers. Being criminals, they don’t have to get training to do awful things to targets. They already know how to be scumbags. I know the ones that follow me around seem to be criminals. I also noticed that a lot of security guards and military men are gang stalkers. The military men do it because they’ve been told we targets are Americans who can’t be trusted. And they fall right in line with the lies and believe whatever the government tells them. Paradox, isn’t it? The military men fight for Americans’ freedom and come home and join in taking away someone’s freedom. And the security guards are usually people who want to feel important. The security guards feel important beating someone down.
When, oh, when is this crap going to end? The whole week I’ve felt really tired. I have absolutely no energy. I sometimes wonder why we targets stick around? What is the purpose of living this life? It’s a life that’s not at all a joy to live. We can’t love anyone; we have no family; no friends; everywhere we go, people abuse us. We’re blamed for everything that happens. We’re called liars, thieves. Sometimes I wish that I’d go bed and just die.
Explain your strategy for life. Why are you here? What do you hope to achieve? What matters most to you at work, at play, or at home? How did you come to develop your approach to living? Which parents, friends, aliens or spirits influenced your choices about how to live?
My strategy for life at this point is to stay sane. I really don’t have any freedom in my life. My life is totally controlled by what the perps do to me. Every day I get up and hope for the best. I plan things, but usually I have to change my plans because of what is done to me. I can think only in minutes. I can’t think long-term about my life. If I think long-term I know something will happen that will remind me no long-term thinking for me. Live moment-to-moment.
I’ve developed this strategy of living moment-to-moment because it’s the only way it works for me. I can’t think of living for tomorrow, or the next hour, or next year. It’s the here and now that I have to work with. I have no choice in the matter. I am a prisoner. It’s the only way I know how to survive. I can’t waste my energy trying to convince myself my life is ordinary, because it’s not. I only wish it were.
I’ve always liked going out into the country. The clean streets, the beautiful scenery, trees, flowers, animals, friendly people. But I don’t last too long in the country. After about a week, I get an urge to return to the city. Without the city, it’s like I’m missing my heart. There’s no beat in me. Without the city, I don’t feel very alive. So while I enjoy the country, my heart belongs to the city. The tall buildings, the subways, the great food, all the people melting one into another. The city makes me feel alive. The city challenges me, while the country doesn’t. There’s so much energy in the city. An energy which I respond to, and from which I draw energy. A country woman I’ll never be. The city dwells within every inch of my being. Without the city, I’d die.