Gang Stalking – Oh, what a night!

Oh, what a night!

I was awaken at about a  little after midnight. The man next door kept coming to my front door and stomping his feet. The man upstairs walked noisily around his apartment and kept moving the machine he uses to hit me with electricity. Someone played loud music. Cars passed by my apartment blowing their horns.  I yelled to the someone who was blasting his music to lower it. The music kept playing. I’d had enough. I’ve been good 10 months. Have not uttered a word to any of the perps who live near me. I ignored them all. But there comes a time when it’s too much.

I got out of bed, opened the door and went in search of the loud music player. I yelled that I was going to call the cops (yeah, a lot that will do me). But they turned if off and I turned toward my apartment. I stood by the  railing watching the cars zoom by me and blow their horns. I took my little gadget and hit their lights. But they still kept coming. I kept hitting their lights. Pretty soon, the cars were going into the grass and turning around, or taking side streets to get back to where they came from. A few kept coming. But eventually they also left.

I stood by the railing and a young, blond-haired kid passed by me pulling at his hair. He looked homeless. He returned a minute later. I said, “Hey, what are you doing out this time of night?” He said, “Are you talking to me?” I said, “Yes.” He hurried away. He looked like one of those “lost” boys who people use for whatever purpose they feel like using them for. I felt sorry for him.

Black man who lives in apartment 210  came out, as he always does when I’m outside my apartment. He expected me to run back into my apartment, as I always do. But this time, I stayed put. He was not driving me into my apartment. I took out my little gadget and hit him. After a while, he went back into his apartment. A few minutes  later, he came out again. He stood by the railing. I kept looking at him and hitting him. While he was leaning on the railing, a young, white guy came out. He looked at me and went running down the stairs. I could hear the door slam behind him. Some hanky-panky going on? Probably.

The man in apartment 210 finally gave in and  went inside.

It got really quiet. No cars racing back and forth blowing their horns.  No man coming to my door and stomping his feet. No loud music. No strange boy running around. No neighbor from apartment 210 trying to force me into my apartment.

As I went into my apartment, I shouted, “You cockroaches can come out now. I’m going back into my apartment.”

It was quiet all night, for a change.

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Gang Stalking – I dream of having a normal life some day.

Headphones (Photo credit: James F Clay)

harassment (Photo credit: -kÇ-)

I’m driving the perps next door nuts.  And they sure don’t like it.  I’m doing unto them as they do unto.  And happy campers they’re not.

When I take a shower, what they like to  do is turn off my hot or cold water.  My water is either very cold or very hot, no in-between.  So when they take a shower, I do the same thing to them.   I  immediately turn my hot and cold water  on.  It makes their shower too hot, or too cold. I hate wasting water, and it probably sounds childish to those of you who aren’t in my situation, but you’d have to be in my shoes to understand.

The  perps turn the shower right off.  And usually stomp their feet.  Too bad.

They also like to send a very high pitch sound into my apartment.  It’s a high shrill piercing sound.

When they send the high pitch sound into my apartment, I  put my radio and ear buds  on and “zone out.”

Lately, I’ve noticed I have a problem finding ear buds.  All the places where I used to buy them no longer sell them.  Of course, the businesses are told not to carry them.  And  the zombies do  the government’s bidding.   But I’m not worried about not being able to find ear buds. I have almost a year’s supply, because I knew they’d do what they did.

And the woman next door complained to the office manager about the loud music she hears coming from my apartment.  The manager comes up to my apartment almost every day, trying to catch me playing loud music.  I heard the manager say she couldn’t hear any noise coming from it. And the manager will never hear any noise coming from my apartment. I can have the door open and no one can hear a thing. I’ve learned a thing or two from the government  flunkies.

It’s too bad that the people next door are having a bad time with noise.  Poor souls.

The people next door feel they have a God-given right to harass me.  The government told them so. And it is my job to take their bullshit.

Yeah, in a pig’s eye.

If they don’t want to be harassed, they shouldn’t  harass me, because I do not take anyone’s bullshit!

Oh, God, I dream of having a normal life some day.

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Gang Stalking – Gang stalking will end like the dinosaur it is.

A partial reconstruction of the barracks in the concentration camp Westerbork where Anne Frank stayed from August to September 1944 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, the lowlifes are at it again.  They’re all outside playing loud music, drinking, laughing, and annoying everyone.  It’s amazing to me that no one in the complex complains.  I know the loud music must bother them, but not a peep out of anyone. I’m sure if I were to put on loud music, everybody in the complex would be running to the office to complain about me.

I’m glad I started writing this blog. I don’t know what I’d do  if I had no way of letting out my anger.  Writing this blog keeps me sane.  And it also helps others, I hope.

I like to write what’s happening to me every day, so that if someone discovers that strange things are happening to him/her, maybe they’ll run across my blog and realize that they’re not crazy.  That’s what they’re going through is not their imagination.

I often think of Anne Frank when I write my blog.  I think of her sitting in the attic where she lived and writing in her diary.  If Anne Frank hadn’t written in her diary, no one today would know anything  about what a holocaust victim suffered.  Because of Anne Frank’s diary, we know about the holocaust and Anne Frank.

And I’m not saying that what’s happening to us is as bad as what happened to Anne Frank, but who knows what our future holds.  Maybe FEMA camps?

And sometimes I think of the future.  I want my story to get out.  I want people to know what suffering I went through along with other targets.  I want people in the future to know that what happened to me can happen in the future.  I want people to never take their liberty for granted and guard it  like the gift it is, and fight for it.  I don’t want them to think government is honest, because it is not. The government does a lot of  things which are dishonest, and convinces people that what it is doing is for the good of the people.  And I want people in the future, not to trust the media.  Because the media does what the government tells it to do.  If the media was honest, we targets wouldn’t have to put up with what’s  happening to us. The media would have been in on the story and writing about it. I’m sure the media knows what’s happening to us, but very few are willing to write about it.  I can’t believe I ever trusted the government and the media.  How naïve I was!

I know gang stalking will eventually end.  Everything eventually ends.  The dinosaurs died. And gang stalking, like the dinosaur it is, will end, too.  I just hope I live long enough to see this horrible thing end, and see the agents of torture get their due.

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