Gang Stalking – …don’t drink from the cup of bitterness…

A. Philip Randolph, U.S. civil rights leader, 1963 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Civil Rights March on Washington, D.C. [Leaders of the march posing in front of the statue of Abraham Lincoln, Lincoln Memorial.], 08/28/1963 (Photo credit: The U.S. National Archives)

Civil Rights March on Washington, leaders marching from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Photograph of the President’s meeting with the leaders of the March onWashington. Left to Right Willard Wirtz, Martin Luther King, Jr., Eugene Carson Blake, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon Baines Johnson, Walter Reuther. Others not in order: A. Philip Randolph, John Lewis, Whitney Young, Mathew Ahmann, Joachin Prinz, Roy Wilkins, Floyd McKissick (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

God, am I popular!  I had 60 spams for online dating.  Did the idiots really think I’d open any of them?

Today is the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington.  The march was led by Martin L. King, Jr. and over 250,000 people attended.  On August 28, 1963, Dr. King stated: Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.  I can truly say, this man had a very forgiving heart considering all  the things that happened during the Klu Klux Klan era in the South.  He was willing to forgive all those people who hated him because of his color.

Well, I must honestly say, this is hard for me to do.  I’m sure that my life has not been as difficulty as Dr. King’s, but my heart is not as forgiving.

I drink a lot from the cup of bitterness.   I really don’t want to drink from it, but it’s hard not to when I have such miserable people making my life a living hell every day. I guess I don’t have the forgiving spirit Dr. King had.  I’m very flawed when it comes to forgiving. I wasn’t always this way, but I’ve learned  bitterness from the evil that entered my life five years ago. In some ways, Dr. King was luckier than I.  He had a lot of friends who stood by him, and I’m sure that made his life bearable.  I, however, have no one I can turn to.  No matter who I try to befriend, it turns out bad.  The only thing I have left is hate and bitterness toward those who want to destroy me.

I wish Dr. King was still around, maybe we’d have someone who’d listen to us.  Someone who’d stand up for us targets. There are no Dr. kings today.  Just a lot of psychos who care only about becoming famous.

Martin Luther King, Jr. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)who only want to be famous and could not care less about what is happening to us.

So, I don’t want to drink from the cup of bitterness, but it helps when I have nothing else.

I have a dream, too.  That some day the targeting that is happening to us targets ends.

And I hope that Best Buy goes out of business soon.  Best Buy doesn’t deserve to be in business with all the cheating it does to its customers.

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In front of 170 W 130 St., March on Washington, l to r, Bayard Rustin, Deputy Director, and Cleveland Robinson, Chairman of Administrative Committee / World Telegram & Sun photo by O. Fernandez. (Photo credit: Wikip ihttp://neverending1.WordPress.com

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Gang Stalking – America twenty years from now…a scary thought.

two little boys (Photo credit: slightly everything)

cute dog on table (Photo credit: epSos.de)

Rock Collection (Photo credit: cobalt123)

Jon cleaning (Photo credit: Mr Cake)

“The greatest purveyor of violence in the world: My own government, I cannot be silent.”  Martin Luther King

Yesterday, I decided to clean my kitchen.  I am not the best housekeeper.  A domestic goddess, I’m not.  I keep my place clean, but if  I could afford a maid, I’d have one.

Well, anyway, I was busy cleaning and sweeping, when I kept hearing “bong”.  I thought the idiots are at it again, making a lot of noise to annoy me.  So I dismissed the bonging, but it continued.  I  realized that the bonging sound was coming from my door. I opened my door to see what was happening outside.  As I stepped out, a rock almost hit me.

I stood by my railing to see  who was doing it.  I looked down from my railing and saw two little boys looking up at me. The little boys were between three and four.

The older looking boy asked me, “Why are you standing there?”  I replied, “Because I want to.”   He shrugged his shoulders. I asked him, “Why are you throwing rocks at my door?”  He shrugged his shoulders again.  I said, “Would you like someone throwing rocks at you?”  He said, “No.”   “So why do you it to me? He again shrugged. I asked him, “Have I done a anything to you?  He shrugged again. I could tell that someone was telling him what to say. “Is someone telling you what to say?”  I asked him. He kept looking away to look at someone.  He went in for about a minute.  He came back with a dog.  He held  the dog up toward me and said, “This dog can really scratch and he’s going to scratch you and make you bleed.”  I replied, “That dog is not going to scratch me because I haven’t done anything to him.  Most animals only attack others when they’re attacked. And there’s no reason for him to attack me.”    He came back at me, “He scratches real bad, and he’s going to scratch you over and over and make you hurt.”  I didn’t reply.  He said, “You are real ugly, ugly, ugly.”   Again, I could tell someone was telling him what to say.

I decided I was not going to play mind games with a child.  I went into my apartment.  As soon as I closed my door, I heard the rocks hitting my door again. I went out again.  “Stop throwing rocks at my door or I will go to the office.”   He replied, “I don’t care. They’re not going to do anything.”

I did go to the office and report the incident.  The little darlings could have easily hit me in the eye and damage it.

I’m sure you’re wondering  why I didn’t speak with the mother.  She would’ve just denied that her child was doing anything and began yelling at me.

This is the kind of children we’re bring up today.  This is the future of  America.  Children who are being taught to become little perps and grow up to become big perps.  These are little perps-in-training for the future.  I don’t even want to think what America is going to be like twenty years from now. It’s a scary thought.

Contact info: http://neverending1.WordPress.com

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Gang Stalking – Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor…

Freedom (Photo credit: Bohman)

Rev. Martin Luther King, head-and-shoulders portrait, seated, facing front, hands extended upward, during a press conference / World Telegram & Sun photo by Dick DeMarsico. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Day 8.   The maintenance man who works on Saturday came  to my apartment with another man.  The new man looked at the ceiling and made some comments about it.  The Saturday maintenance man asked me if I was going to be home. I said to him I probably would be going out and  he asked  permission to enter my apartment in case I wasn’t home.  I had to say yes, otherwise, they’d use the excuse that they’d come and no one was home. They come in and out of my apartment every day and don’t ask permission.  They told me they’d be back in an hour to repair the ceiling.

I went out  and returned about 3:30 p.m.  Of course, as I expected, my ceiling was in the same condition as before.   It still had the holes.  Nothing had been done.

I like to know why they’d even showed up.  They probably did something to my apartment while I was out. What, I don’t know.  But I know they were in my apartment, they left hints all over the place, as they always do.

We targets sure live miserable lives.  The crap we have to put up with every day is disgusting.

Like when I take a walk.  I feel I’m walking a gauntlet.   On both sides there are people ready to strike, beat me down.  I have to zigzag my way to wherever I go. I can’t walk in a straight line.  I have to climb over fences, cross to the other side of  the street, climb up hills to escape  the perps.   I have to walk as if I see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing.  I have to become a zombie.

I can’t just sit for a moment and enjoy a sunny day.  Or stop to talk  with someone.  Or go sit in the park and enjoy a beautiful, spring day.

It’s always move on, move on.  Don’t stop. Don’t look. Don’t be.  Just do what I have to do and disappear from sight.

We really are prisoners.  We have no freedom.  No freedom whatsoever.

And that reminds me, I once wrote a blog about freedom.  Someone who lives near me was outside singing the words from my blog, exactly the same words I’d written.  And, of course, he was making fun of  it and laughing.

But it didn’t bother me. It felt flattering. I wrote words he remembered. And maybe some day, the idiot will really listen to the words and understand what they mean.

I like this quote by Martin Luther King on freedom:  Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.

And that to me means, we have to fight for what we want.  We can’t just sit back and expect to stop gang stalking unless we  do something about it.

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For Martin Luther King Day.

Gang Stalking – But some things are not forgivable. Deliberate cruelty is not forgivable…

Image via Wikipedia - Blanche DuBois

Image via Wikipedia - March on Washington

Image via Wikipedia -Martin L. King, March on Washington, giving “I have a dream” speech.

Image via Wikipedia

Well, I guess the man next door is here to stay.  He disappears for most of the day and then returns somewhere around 1 o’clock in the morning.  And all night long, I get hit from his apartment, upstairs, the cars outside, and other adjacent apartments.  The hits I get feel like a pulsating heart.  There’s a pounding in my back and all over my body.  I worry about my heart being hit all the time.  What if they hit my heart, I’ll be dead, or worse, get a heart attack.  I guess I’d rather be dead than have a heart attack.  At least if I’m dead, I won’t have to put up with all the b.s.   I’m really not living.  I’m really just existing.  I ask myself sometimes “is this life worth living”? The answer is definitely a “no”.  But then, someone is kind to me and I think that life is worth living.  I tell myself that not everyone is as evil as the people who surround me.

Yesterday I went to the store; I needed food.  At the store, I ordered some chicken, fried chicken, which I rarely eat.  The man at the counter was very nice, not phony nice, but in a humane kind of way.  The chicken cost $3.99 for four thighs and 1 leg, the special of the day.  So  I ordered the special. The deli  man gave me my order and I thanked him.  I could tell he knew who I was, but he was still very kind.  I could see the kindness in his eyes and the way he spoke to me.  I didn’t check to see what he put in the bag.   Later, when I got home, I looked in the bag.  He’d  filled my bag with four chicken breasts and four big thighs and charged me the same price as for the legs and thighs.  My bag  felt heavy, but I did not give it any thought.   I knew the man was kind, but how kind,  I  didn’t know.  What a nice thing to do for someone.  I have to go back and thank him.  It is people like him that keep me going. If it weren’t for people like the deli man’s  kindness  to me every once in a while, I probably would have given up on humankind a long time ago. And probably on myself, too. I have to constantly remind myself that there are kind people in the world, but with all the evil I have to put up with every day of my life, it’s hard for me to remember.

Things have not gotten better for me by any means.  Things have gotten worse day by day.  There are more gang stalkers after me now than before.  I no longer believe that humans are inherently kind; that’s not been my experience.  My experience has been one of people who are evil.  And they enjoy being evil to someone who they can do anything to and get away with it.  It is in their evil smile, the way they  walk, their smugness of self.  The smugness of feeling they’re better than me because I’m considered persona non grata.  Now I know how Martin Luther King felt.  They did the same thing to him.  But I’m sure his treatment was worse.  They killed him, of course.  There’s no doubt in my mind that the government killed Martin Luther King.

Here’s a line from a “Streetcar Named Desire” quoted by Blanche DuBois: But some things are not forgivable.  Deliberate cruelty is not forgivable.  It is the one unforgivable thing, in my opinion…and I agree with Blanche.  Deliberate cruelty is unforgivable, whether by government or gang stalkers.

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Gang Stalking – I’m telling the truth…

Image by cliff1066™ via Flickr

Again, they came after me and messed with my computer.  Their new thing is turning off my internet access.  So I don’t know how long I’ll be on the computer.  I might be disconnected again.

The last two weeks have been really bad.  There are more people after me than before.  The flunkies were in my apartment and sprayed my carpet with Pesticide.  Now my apartment really smells.  Plus the goons upstairs, and other Apartments, spray me with pesticide.  I know it’s hard for you to believe that something like what’s happening to me is going on in the U.S.  But it is!  It’s just what the government has done to people throughout its history.  What they do to me, they used to do to Martin Luther King, Jr. The FBI followed him everywhere he went.  How do you think they found out he was messing with other women?  Martin Luther, Jr. was put on the list because he was against the Vietnam War.  And the powerful people who run the government, not the President, didn’t want the War to end. The President actually has very little power.  The élite control the government, and what they say is what’s done. Martin Luther King was probably assassinated by the same people; someone else became a scapegoat.

(What I just wrote was deleted.)

So let me try again. I now believe every conspiracy theory that’s been put out there.  I believe it because of what’s happening to me.  If something were to happen to me, the government would deny my existence.  And if it admitted my existence, it would say I was crazy.  I hope all those of you who read my blog don’t fall for their lies.  Whatever I’ve written in this blog is the truth.  What reason would I have to make up the things happening to me?  None whatsoever.  Do you think I want to spend my time writing a blog like this? No. I rather be writing about fun things, not crap that I have to put up with.  It’s not fun.  And who in the world would make up crap like the crap I’m writing about?

By the way, Monday, January 16, 2012, is Martin Luther King’s day.  Funny, that I should think of him while I was writing.

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Gang Stalking – Off Topic – PostaDay 2011 – Assemble your dream guest…

Think of all the famous, or infamous, people living or dead, and pick six to share a fine meal with. Who do you pick? What do you expect to happen?

There are three people who I’ve always admired. They’re all dead, of course. Maybe if they were alive, I would not admire them as much. The three are:  Thomas Jefferson; Benjamin Franklin; Leonardo da Vinci. Then I need another three to share my fine meal.

There are so many people I admire, but choose three  I must.  There are no rock stars that interest me.  Most politicians today are only interested in getting re-elected and have no guts.  I would like Oprah to be at my dinner.   Look  what she’s done with her life.  I could learn a lot from her.  And she’s rich. She could give me a few hints on becoming rich, and she’s met everyone.   Who else?  Abraham Lincoln.  I’ve always admired Lincoln.  I’d definitely want him at my meal. I’d like to hear what his opinions are about today’s government.  One more.   Martin Luther King, the civil rights leader.  He had so much courage.  I’d like to hear the truth about his death.   And that’s my dinner list.

Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and da Vinci are on my dinner list because all of them are  brilliant.  They were scientists, writers, architects,  and  discussing  anything  with them would thrill me no end.

I expect the discussions  with all the above to be fascinating.   None of them is a shrinking violent and opinions would be flying right and left.

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