The Killers made themselves a cozy network with my computer. I guess they come in wirelessly.
At one point my antivirus software told me that I am connected to an invisible network.
There you go.
Today the killer gassed me to his/her heart's content, a horrible burning stuff, flavoured with yeast,
as I was baking bread. I was trying to ignore it and trying to send some winterly pictures of the mountain
to my relatives. The killer was hellbent not to let me work on these pictures. Finally I had enough and
switched off the internet, saying "sorry, killers have to stay outside" .
After I was done, of course the killer did not let me get back in, as is his custom.
Normally I cook dinner or do something else and he will lose interest.
Not today.
At one point I made it to the Google screen, and klicked "google" but the killer had disabled the mouse.
Finally I got the mouse back but could not click on "google", so I wanted to klick on "I'm feeling lucky"
as it changed right in front of my eyes to "I'm feeling puzzled". Haha, against my will I had to laugh out loud.
That dumb killer hacked into Google and changed the html. That must have been a smarter one than the usual ones. Makes me wonder what else he can do.
After a while my friend came home and that is when the killers back off. This is why I think maybe he is not involved, but then again I think he is involved, but however, fact is, that we a l l are mindcontrolled and it is very hard to tell who is who.
Friday, 11 January 2013
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
The never ending attempt to criminalize the TI
Shopping, something everybody has to do in order to eat. For TI's it can be
a daunting task.
I would like to share a shopping story with you.
Day before yesterday I walked to the dollar store and Safeway in the small
nearby Shopping centre, a walk of 20 minutes from my place.
When I arrived there, the parking lot was full and I went into the
dollarstore, which was very full and after I was in there, about 30 more
people came in. I did not feel comfortable as I am being sandwiched
and zapped when too many people are there, so I left. That was a Sunday.
Yesterday, on a Monday I saw that I got to the store before school was
out, at 2.30 p.m. The parking lot was full to the last space.
Highly unusual for a small shopping centre on a rainy Monday
early afternoon.
I entered the dollar store and grabbed a basket. The store was full
but not overly full like the day before. About 10 people entered right
after me. I photographed some of them, because they immediately
pulled their cellphones and punched numbers in, then pressed the
cellphone on both sides and then put it away again.
This procedure sets off their weapon in the large shoulder bag
or backpack.
When being hit with EH, I am being "switched off" for a short
time, without knowing that I had been unconscious.
I tried to get away from them, walked through the card isle and
then back to the food isle which was by then not crowded. I chose my items,
looked who was watching me and noticed that at least 2 people
were closely observing exactly what I was buying. I covered
my merchandise with a newspaper from my bag, but then people
squeezed past me, staring blatantly at my basket.
A shop assistant lingered at the end of the food isle, arranging this and that,
staring at me. Then a well known bald older Perpetrator squeezed past, asking the
assistant something, both very close to me. I grabbed some water and went
to the next isle. The shop assistant said, as I was passing her: "You don't
know, how much people steal in here"
I said "You should think it is a stupid idea to steal stuff in a dollar store."
When she was out of sight, I grabbed 2 cans of coconut water, which is
supposed to be good for you and I had not seen it for a long time in that
store. There were about 30 cans. I took two from the back.
Also I took a can for sardines, the same I had before, they were arranged
in a pattern like stairs lying on the side, which struck me as strange.
As they always exchange my merchandise for a pre-poisoned version
at the cash register, I put one can of coconut juice into the front breast
pocket of my jacket, where it is not fully covered and easily visible to
anyone, and my plan was to have this one there and nobody would touch
it and run the other one through the cash register and then leave it there.
But the shop assistant pounced on me, followed by the bald old guy,
started screaming and accused me of shop lifting and demanded
that I take the can out of my jacket pocket. I told her why I was
doing it and that she could not accuse me of anything because I was
going to pay for it.
She kept on screaming and I raised my voice too and told her that I am
not a shoplifter, did she hear that? Then she said that she can scream
louder than me, and I said "you sure can".
Then she screamed that she would embarrass me more.
I said in a calm voice that I am not embarrassed because I have done
nothing wrong.
At the cash register she screamed again that I put stuff into my pocket
and said: "here, a customer told me that you have something in your
pocket, here, what is this, in your side pocket?" Baffled, I reached in
there, and low and behold, there was a Mars bar in there.
I had put it into the basket. I know that for sure. I never put anything
on top of my camera. Never. I keep my camera ready at all times, and
I would never obstruct it. - Wow.
Meanwhile I forced the cashier to start ringing my purchase through,
and I gave her the mars bar and told her that I am going to pay for it
and to ring it through.
She did so reluctantly.
By that time I felt the usual confusion set in that comes from being
zapped at the cash register as always,
and the shop assistant screamed: "She is a shoplifter" and I said
"Stop slandering me, I have not done anything wrong".
And then the shop assistant said: "I am going to search you now,
through all your pockets and your shopping bag because you
were stealing stuff." I told her that she should not say again that
I was stealing stuff because I was not, and that I did not know how
the mars bar got into my pocket and that I am paying for it now,
and if she thinks that I need to be searched, she would need to
call the police. She responded "I am going to call the police now!"
And I said " I think it is a good idea!"
And she dialed a number an walked off.
Then the old bald guy stepped in and said: "Ahem, I am actually a
retired police man, I think I can be of assistance". I said "no, thank you"
Meanwhile I had to take my gaze off the cashier and look for
the money in my bag and pay.
The assistant came back and screamed that I will be banned
from the shop. I said that I will talk about it with the owner.
"Next time you come in here, you will be followed" she said.
"What else is new?' I said, "I am being followed every time"
and walked out.
Street Theatre at it's best.
At home I noticed that the "all natural" coconut water had
a strong sweet, sugary taste. This is the sign for ANTIFREEZE
in it.
The cardboard wrapper of the can of Sardines had been opened
and stuck back together with glue and I did not bother to open
it but threw it into the garbage right away.
2 out of 7 items, not bad, I have had more poisoned.
Day before yesterday I walked to the dollar store and Safeway in the small
nearby Shopping centre, a walk of 20 minutes from my place.
When I arrived there, the parking lot was full and I went into the
dollarstore, which was very full and after I was in there, about 30 more
people came in. I did not feel comfortable as I am being sandwiched
and zapped when too many people are there, so I left. That was a Sunday.
Yesterday, on a Monday I saw that I got to the store before school was
out, at 2.30 p.m. The parking lot was full to the last space.
Highly unusual for a small shopping centre on a rainy Monday
early afternoon.
I entered the dollar store and grabbed a basket. The store was full
but not overly full like the day before. About 10 people entered right
after me. I photographed some of them, because they immediately
pulled their cellphones and punched numbers in, then pressed the
cellphone on both sides and then put it away again.
This procedure sets off their weapon in the large shoulder bag
or backpack.
When being hit with EH, I am being "switched off" for a short
time, without knowing that I had been unconscious.
I tried to get away from them, walked through the card isle and
then back to the food isle which was by then not crowded. I chose my items,
looked who was watching me and noticed that at least 2 people
were closely observing exactly what I was buying. I covered
my merchandise with a newspaper from my bag, but then people
squeezed past me, staring blatantly at my basket.
A shop assistant lingered at the end of the food isle, arranging this and that,
staring at me. Then a well known bald older Perpetrator squeezed past, asking the
assistant something, both very close to me. I grabbed some water and went
to the next isle. The shop assistant said, as I was passing her: "You don't
know, how much people steal in here"
I said "You should think it is a stupid idea to steal stuff in a dollar store."
When she was out of sight, I grabbed 2 cans of coconut water, which is
supposed to be good for you and I had not seen it for a long time in that
store. There were about 30 cans. I took two from the back.
Also I took a can for sardines, the same I had before, they were arranged
in a pattern like stairs lying on the side, which struck me as strange.
As they always exchange my merchandise for a pre-poisoned version
at the cash register, I put one can of coconut juice into the front breast
pocket of my jacket, where it is not fully covered and easily visible to
anyone, and my plan was to have this one there and nobody would touch
it and run the other one through the cash register and then leave it there.
But the shop assistant pounced on me, followed by the bald old guy,
started screaming and accused me of shop lifting and demanded
that I take the can out of my jacket pocket. I told her why I was
doing it and that she could not accuse me of anything because I was
going to pay for it.
She kept on screaming and I raised my voice too and told her that I am
not a shoplifter, did she hear that? Then she said that she can scream
louder than me, and I said "you sure can".
Then she screamed that she would embarrass me more.
I said in a calm voice that I am not embarrassed because I have done
nothing wrong.
At the cash register she screamed again that I put stuff into my pocket
and said: "here, a customer told me that you have something in your
pocket, here, what is this, in your side pocket?" Baffled, I reached in
there, and low and behold, there was a Mars bar in there.
I had put it into the basket. I know that for sure. I never put anything
on top of my camera. Never. I keep my camera ready at all times, and
I would never obstruct it. - Wow.
Meanwhile I forced the cashier to start ringing my purchase through,
and I gave her the mars bar and told her that I am going to pay for it
and to ring it through.
She did so reluctantly.
By that time I felt the usual confusion set in that comes from being
zapped at the cash register as always,
and the shop assistant screamed: "She is a shoplifter" and I said
"Stop slandering me, I have not done anything wrong".
And then the shop assistant said: "I am going to search you now,
through all your pockets and your shopping bag because you
were stealing stuff." I told her that she should not say again that
I was stealing stuff because I was not, and that I did not know how
the mars bar got into my pocket and that I am paying for it now,
and if she thinks that I need to be searched, she would need to
call the police. She responded "I am going to call the police now!"
And I said " I think it is a good idea!"
And she dialed a number an walked off.
Then the old bald guy stepped in and said: "Ahem, I am actually a
retired police man, I think I can be of assistance". I said "no, thank you"
Meanwhile I had to take my gaze off the cashier and look for
the money in my bag and pay.
The assistant came back and screamed that I will be banned
from the shop. I said that I will talk about it with the owner.
"Next time you come in here, you will be followed" she said.
"What else is new?' I said, "I am being followed every time"
and walked out.
Street Theatre at it's best.
At home I noticed that the "all natural" coconut water had
a strong sweet, sugary taste. This is the sign for ANTIFREEZE
in it.
The cardboard wrapper of the can of Sardines had been opened
and stuck back together with glue and I did not bother to open
it but threw it into the garbage right away.
2 out of 7 items, not bad, I have had more poisoned.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
New World Order
For 14 days now I have been searching the internet for content on torture and gangstalking and medical experiments.
I found lots of stuff. For example, this seems to be related to MKultra, an American program, where people are used as guinea pigs for mind control tests.
This makes perfect sense. I have to finally open my eyes, and admit to myself that I am being microwaved every night. I used to think that the blue and red large, shallow holes mainly on my shins and ankles came from pesticide injections. But they are microwave marks, I saw some on the blog of a German guy in Turkey, I have the same thing. Also the feeling of extreme fogginess, tiredness, passing out when being sprayed by a cellphone when a stalker walks by.
In one you tube clip I saw a black lady on the bus with a pink phone and a silver player, and she discharged both of them in the air, just exactly as my stalkers do it. Obviously another target had filmed the same thing I experience every day in the same situation. Why did I not write down the website? The reason is the relentless downpour of pesticide, right now the pesticide is burning in my mouth, on my cheeks, in my eyes and nostrils, in my lungs, making my head foggy.
Nevertheless, I researched a lot and found out that the new program that includes picking innocent people in Canada in order to torture them and medically experiment with them, and try e-weapons on them until they die, is called Monarch.
I also found out that our dear government is trying to kill us all - not just the targets, but the world population - with these chem trails, that we all can see in the morning sometimes. There are a zillion you tube videos about those, and I found an excellent film about it on the site www.esoterictube.com. Under the heading: Chemtrails. Indeed, these chem trails have the following ingredients: aluminum powder, barium, strontium, dessicated blood loaded with pathogens, morgellons.
You get the idea that these are not healthy things. Maybe they want to jump start the economy by giving the healthcare more work? Or maybe they want to de-populize the world? And the soil is changing the PH value from the aluminum, and becoming neutral where it was acidic. That means natural seeds don't grow there anymore and they have to sell us expensive genetically engineered seeds. I don't know which is the scariest thing right now.
I also found out, that under the MKultra program they exposed children to pornography and abused them a lot so they would get a split personality, where the brain made compartments in which to tuck away the bad stuff after a trauma of, say, having to watch a blood sacrifice murder in a satanic ritual.
These young people then were used as slaves for the leaders of the country, and were also used as drug mules by the CIA. They were ideal for submitting messages because their brain was conditioned to forget the message after delivery.
Horrific things I learned, and I lost all my belief in justice and the leaders of all countries. You can see a video of a world leader convention in a Satanic Redwood Lodge retreat in Oregon.
Also I learned that this is definitely a Satanic cult, who is stalking me and my fellow TI's, because their car numbers contain a lot of number 6 or 66 or 666 and the same with 3 and 11 and some 7. All of which are occult numbers and used by satanists.
So the super rich people stick together, and in the Islamic world there is a you tube video, I think it is weekly or monthly, that is called "the arrivals", and it shows that the bloodlines of all people at the top of the countries are the same, meaning they are closely related. They said Cheney and Obama are second cousins, and the Queen and George Bush, too. Amazingly, the controversial but brilliant David Icke said the very same thing, and showed a picture of Prince Harry, looking like George Bush junior. Only that Icke says that they are reptilian, which is hard to believe, although there are some videos of Bush where he definitely looks like a reptile.
Today I was bright dark yellow in the face and on the neck and on both sides of my body again, that means they removed a lot of cartilage there and will remove more tonight. Also my chin has gone further away and I was cut in the back of my throat again, I can feel it when swallowing, and it hurts, too.
When I look in the mirror, I don't quite recognize my face, one cheek is bigger than the other, and the flesh beside my mouth seems to be too much on one side. There is a big hole at the nape of my neck. My butt looks like growing right out of my back, no waist plateau anymore. That would explain the pain in that area.
My lungs are hurting, and my joints and my eyes too, and my head looks disproportionally small. I am extremely tired.
What is happening to me and other the Ti's every day and night, this is all a part of the world as we know it, coming to an end. Just look back at how Hitler managed to get to power, he had already his support army in place, when he seized power.
This is why these devil worshippers can get so bold, and get hired by the CIA to stalk and torture us with apparently no fear of consequences. They will be the police snitches in the new world order.
And also right now the thought shot through my head: What if they gave those dumb satanists chewing gum and told them it is a vaccination against the pathogens in Chem trails? Because they are all so full of themselves, and so invincible, really enjoying the harassment, meanwhile chewing gum all the time, as if their life depended on it, so there must be a reason for that.
On the trifield meter the radiation does not register a lot. I am convinced they do it with ELF. Extremely low frequency, the thing they are using for mind control. If you have the DNA and a graph of the brain activity, you can artificially induce all kinds of feeling in the target. But still I think they use pesticide and maybe other substances when they spray me in the bus and try to provoke a fight with me.
When I look back, I wonder what an innocent and unpolitical life I had been leading before all this began. How blue-eyed I was!
I found lots of stuff. For example, this seems to be related to MKultra, an American program, where people are used as guinea pigs for mind control tests.
This makes perfect sense. I have to finally open my eyes, and admit to myself that I am being microwaved every night. I used to think that the blue and red large, shallow holes mainly on my shins and ankles came from pesticide injections. But they are microwave marks, I saw some on the blog of a German guy in Turkey, I have the same thing. Also the feeling of extreme fogginess, tiredness, passing out when being sprayed by a cellphone when a stalker walks by.
In one you tube clip I saw a black lady on the bus with a pink phone and a silver player, and she discharged both of them in the air, just exactly as my stalkers do it. Obviously another target had filmed the same thing I experience every day in the same situation. Why did I not write down the website? The reason is the relentless downpour of pesticide, right now the pesticide is burning in my mouth, on my cheeks, in my eyes and nostrils, in my lungs, making my head foggy.
Nevertheless, I researched a lot and found out that the new program that includes picking innocent people in Canada in order to torture them and medically experiment with them, and try e-weapons on them until they die, is called Monarch.
I also found out that our dear government is trying to kill us all - not just the targets, but the world population - with these chem trails, that we all can see in the morning sometimes. There are a zillion you tube videos about those, and I found an excellent film about it on the site www.esoterictube.com. Under the heading: Chemtrails. Indeed, these chem trails have the following ingredients: aluminum powder, barium, strontium, dessicated blood loaded with pathogens, morgellons.
You get the idea that these are not healthy things. Maybe they want to jump start the economy by giving the healthcare more work? Or maybe they want to de-populize the world? And the soil is changing the PH value from the aluminum, and becoming neutral where it was acidic. That means natural seeds don't grow there anymore and they have to sell us expensive genetically engineered seeds. I don't know which is the scariest thing right now.
I also found out, that under the MKultra program they exposed children to pornography and abused them a lot so they would get a split personality, where the brain made compartments in which to tuck away the bad stuff after a trauma of, say, having to watch a blood sacrifice murder in a satanic ritual.
These young people then were used as slaves for the leaders of the country, and were also used as drug mules by the CIA. They were ideal for submitting messages because their brain was conditioned to forget the message after delivery.
Horrific things I learned, and I lost all my belief in justice and the leaders of all countries. You can see a video of a world leader convention in a Satanic Redwood Lodge retreat in Oregon.
Also I learned that this is definitely a Satanic cult, who is stalking me and my fellow TI's, because their car numbers contain a lot of number 6 or 66 or 666 and the same with 3 and 11 and some 7. All of which are occult numbers and used by satanists.
So the super rich people stick together, and in the Islamic world there is a you tube video, I think it is weekly or monthly, that is called "the arrivals", and it shows that the bloodlines of all people at the top of the countries are the same, meaning they are closely related. They said Cheney and Obama are second cousins, and the Queen and George Bush, too. Amazingly, the controversial but brilliant David Icke said the very same thing, and showed a picture of Prince Harry, looking like George Bush junior. Only that Icke says that they are reptilian, which is hard to believe, although there are some videos of Bush where he definitely looks like a reptile.
Today I was bright dark yellow in the face and on the neck and on both sides of my body again, that means they removed a lot of cartilage there and will remove more tonight. Also my chin has gone further away and I was cut in the back of my throat again, I can feel it when swallowing, and it hurts, too.
When I look in the mirror, I don't quite recognize my face, one cheek is bigger than the other, and the flesh beside my mouth seems to be too much on one side. There is a big hole at the nape of my neck. My butt looks like growing right out of my back, no waist plateau anymore. That would explain the pain in that area.
My lungs are hurting, and my joints and my eyes too, and my head looks disproportionally small. I am extremely tired.
What is happening to me and other the Ti's every day and night, this is all a part of the world as we know it, coming to an end. Just look back at how Hitler managed to get to power, he had already his support army in place, when he seized power.
This is why these devil worshippers can get so bold, and get hired by the CIA to stalk and torture us with apparently no fear of consequences. They will be the police snitches in the new world order.
And also right now the thought shot through my head: What if they gave those dumb satanists chewing gum and told them it is a vaccination against the pathogens in Chem trails? Because they are all so full of themselves, and so invincible, really enjoying the harassment, meanwhile chewing gum all the time, as if their life depended on it, so there must be a reason for that.
On the trifield meter the radiation does not register a lot. I am convinced they do it with ELF. Extremely low frequency, the thing they are using for mind control. If you have the DNA and a graph of the brain activity, you can artificially induce all kinds of feeling in the target. But still I think they use pesticide and maybe other substances when they spray me in the bus and try to provoke a fight with me.
When I look back, I wonder what an innocent and unpolitical life I had been leading before all this began. How blue-eyed I was!
Monday, 27 June 2011
Uprooted and betrayed
After I moved from my nice apartment in Burnaby, I put my furniture into a storage facility and moved in with my daughter into a house on Capitol Hill. It was on the border or Burnaby, overlooking Burrard inlet.
I had a small room in which I lived a very short time. During this time I had my nose operation, in which an Iranian Doctor straightened out my nose partition, to enable me to breathe better. Also, he took cartilage from my ear and implanted it into the "floppy" nostrils. But he made a mistake, or so I thought, and put all the cartilage into one nostril, my left one, and there is up to now a bump to be felt and the nose is not quite even.
It took about one week to heal and it was not a good time. One day I arranged to see the specialist by phone, and when I went outside in a hurry, I thought, oh maybe I catch the bus on the other side, and I went an unusual route to the bus stop. When I came around the corner of the street where my daughter lived, whom do you think I saw, heading straight towards me? Monica Ceausescu!
As soon as she saw me, she bent over and started to open her boot laces and then tied them again. After that the other foot. Then she opened the first boot again and retied it, then repeated the second boot. I was standing there watching her and could not figure it out what she was doing. After she started on the third round, I passed her and went to my appointment. Then I saw her straightening her back and walk on the meridian of the boulevard in the deep grass, down the hill, passing my daughter's house.
Much later I learned, that in STASI (East German CIA) communications this means "Abort plan in favour of the security of the organization".
When I came home, in the evening, I made soup for the family. We ate it and became sick. I took some time to check the house thoroughly and found, that all my possessions - that were not many, since everything was in storage - had been sprayed with pesticide. The window was manipulated and I saw that Monica's people had been inside the house. I told my daughter about it. She told me not to worry, I was safe now.
The next day I threw up the breakfast and I knew that I had to do something. I checked the fridge thoroughly and found the milk tasted strange and everything in the fridge had been treated. Also the salt had a fine powdery residue, that it did not have before. The tomatoes did not look right and were extremely soft, the fruit had small pricks and juice was running out of them. The cutting board looked stained when I had left it clean. The oven had a strange smell. I knew the Romanians had been in there and poisoned everything, the whole kitchen, the cutlery, the dishes, the pots, the toothpaste, the sofa cushions.
When my daughter came home at night and I told her about it, she said nothing and proceeded to make dinner with the contaminated things. Luckily I had replaced the salt. She said I imagine things, but she did not use the tomatoes, and they went bad and were discarded later in the week. I did not dare eating dinner.
After one week, I saw a strange note on a lamp post one street down. It read:
Friends and Neighbours!
Nice couple from East Europe
40/35 years old, working,
is looking to rent 2 bedroom apartment
or basement on ...... (my daughter's street).
Please call this number.....
The way it was worded, I could see the Romanian accent. I just thought of how they had moved to Burnaby, right opposite me, within a month. I told it to my daughter. I urged her to have the salt analyzed. Or some clothing or bed linen.
The next morning she told me she had arranged with one person, who worked also in the lab at the hospital, to analyze some of my stuff. She told me to choose one thing that I want analyzed, and she would drive me there. I chose a pillow case and said ok.
We walked into some building near Royal Columbian Hospital, and the Receptionist Nurse asked my daughter my name and my date of birth. I said that I can speak for myself, and that I just want to talk to the guy in the lab. The nurse continued to talk above my head to my daughter, and then she called someone to make an intake, and I knew this was not good, and I turned and started walking out. She cried stop, you can't walk out of here, you are certified. I had no idea what certified meant, but kept walking and called back to her "try to stop me".
At the door I began to run, and ran around the house in a different direction, and hid myself between some tractor trailers, then later went back to where my daughter's car was parked. There came my daughter.
She asked me why I was running away, and I said "Did you not see that they wanted to keep me there? They think I am a mental patient" Then I said "Let's go home now." And she said "ok".
When we were driving, I told her we have to go into the other direction and she said :"Oh there is a huge congestion, we just turn later that way".
We came nearer the place I ran from, and when my daughter used her blinker to make a right turn into the parking lot, I told her to stop the car right now to let me off.
She said: "ok, but not here". I said: "right here or I jump off the driving car". She did not stop but had to slow down because of the on ramp. I opened the door and jumped off, and started running. When I was at a safe distance, with a sobbing voice I called back to her "traitor child".
I could not believe she did that to me. My world was shattered. I felt like going to Patullo Bridge and jumping down. Then again Patullo was never my first choice to jump from. Slowly I stopped crying and calmed down. I walked the streets, knowing that I was homeless. I did not know what to do. I had nothing but my handbag and the clothes on my back. In the evening, after much walking, I found a phone booth and called my friend, and told him I have to come see him. He said:"ok, come".
I went by skytrain and bus to see him, and stayed the night. I did not tell him I was going to stay another night. Slowly, slowly he started asking me what happened and I told him the story. "It's ok", he said "that was not nice of her, don't talk to her anymore, you can stay here for a while".
This is how I ended up in my friend's apartment on the 3rd floor of a hirise building in the West End of Vancouver.
I had a small room in which I lived a very short time. During this time I had my nose operation, in which an Iranian Doctor straightened out my nose partition, to enable me to breathe better. Also, he took cartilage from my ear and implanted it into the "floppy" nostrils. But he made a mistake, or so I thought, and put all the cartilage into one nostril, my left one, and there is up to now a bump to be felt and the nose is not quite even.
It took about one week to heal and it was not a good time. One day I arranged to see the specialist by phone, and when I went outside in a hurry, I thought, oh maybe I catch the bus on the other side, and I went an unusual route to the bus stop. When I came around the corner of the street where my daughter lived, whom do you think I saw, heading straight towards me? Monica Ceausescu!
As soon as she saw me, she bent over and started to open her boot laces and then tied them again. After that the other foot. Then she opened the first boot again and retied it, then repeated the second boot. I was standing there watching her and could not figure it out what she was doing. After she started on the third round, I passed her and went to my appointment. Then I saw her straightening her back and walk on the meridian of the boulevard in the deep grass, down the hill, passing my daughter's house.
Much later I learned, that in STASI (East German CIA) communications this means "Abort plan in favour of the security of the organization".
When I came home, in the evening, I made soup for the family. We ate it and became sick. I took some time to check the house thoroughly and found, that all my possessions - that were not many, since everything was in storage - had been sprayed with pesticide. The window was manipulated and I saw that Monica's people had been inside the house. I told my daughter about it. She told me not to worry, I was safe now.
The next day I threw up the breakfast and I knew that I had to do something. I checked the fridge thoroughly and found the milk tasted strange and everything in the fridge had been treated. Also the salt had a fine powdery residue, that it did not have before. The tomatoes did not look right and were extremely soft, the fruit had small pricks and juice was running out of them. The cutting board looked stained when I had left it clean. The oven had a strange smell. I knew the Romanians had been in there and poisoned everything, the whole kitchen, the cutlery, the dishes, the pots, the toothpaste, the sofa cushions.
When my daughter came home at night and I told her about it, she said nothing and proceeded to make dinner with the contaminated things. Luckily I had replaced the salt. She said I imagine things, but she did not use the tomatoes, and they went bad and were discarded later in the week. I did not dare eating dinner.
After one week, I saw a strange note on a lamp post one street down. It read:
Friends and Neighbours!
Nice couple from East Europe
40/35 years old, working,
is looking to rent 2 bedroom apartment
or basement on ...... (my daughter's street).
Please call this number.....
The way it was worded, I could see the Romanian accent. I just thought of how they had moved to Burnaby, right opposite me, within a month. I told it to my daughter. I urged her to have the salt analyzed. Or some clothing or bed linen.
The next morning she told me she had arranged with one person, who worked also in the lab at the hospital, to analyze some of my stuff. She told me to choose one thing that I want analyzed, and she would drive me there. I chose a pillow case and said ok.
We walked into some building near Royal Columbian Hospital, and the Receptionist Nurse asked my daughter my name and my date of birth. I said that I can speak for myself, and that I just want to talk to the guy in the lab. The nurse continued to talk above my head to my daughter, and then she called someone to make an intake, and I knew this was not good, and I turned and started walking out. She cried stop, you can't walk out of here, you are certified. I had no idea what certified meant, but kept walking and called back to her "try to stop me".
At the door I began to run, and ran around the house in a different direction, and hid myself between some tractor trailers, then later went back to where my daughter's car was parked. There came my daughter.
She asked me why I was running away, and I said "Did you not see that they wanted to keep me there? They think I am a mental patient" Then I said "Let's go home now." And she said "ok".
When we were driving, I told her we have to go into the other direction and she said :"Oh there is a huge congestion, we just turn later that way".
We came nearer the place I ran from, and when my daughter used her blinker to make a right turn into the parking lot, I told her to stop the car right now to let me off.
She said: "ok, but not here". I said: "right here or I jump off the driving car". She did not stop but had to slow down because of the on ramp. I opened the door and jumped off, and started running. When I was at a safe distance, with a sobbing voice I called back to her "traitor child".
I could not believe she did that to me. My world was shattered. I felt like going to Patullo Bridge and jumping down. Then again Patullo was never my first choice to jump from. Slowly I stopped crying and calmed down. I walked the streets, knowing that I was homeless. I did not know what to do. I had nothing but my handbag and the clothes on my back. In the evening, after much walking, I found a phone booth and called my friend, and told him I have to come see him. He said:"ok, come".
I went by skytrain and bus to see him, and stayed the night. I did not tell him I was going to stay another night. Slowly, slowly he started asking me what happened and I told him the story. "It's ok", he said "that was not nice of her, don't talk to her anymore, you can stay here for a while".
This is how I ended up in my friend's apartment on the 3rd floor of a hirise building in the West End of Vancouver.
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Targeted Individuals (Ti's) and mind control
I read the website about Targeted Individuals many times, and also Gangstalking World.
To me it seemed "too far out there" and I could not make the connection to myself.
This happens, if the truth is so overwhelming that it could destroy you, by suicide or some other uncontrolled reaction, the brain takes precaution and lets the info come in only in very small increments, and very gradually it dawns on you: This is happening to me.
Finally I saw the truth: I am being microwaved. I am being operated on with a laser. I am a guinea pig for medical research of a government agency. All the ridicule of my relatives and close acquaintances could not change the knowledge: yes. It is happening to me.
There is the explanation for why, almost every time, in the middle of an ice cold winter night, both my friend and me woke up, and it was so hot in the room, and we were feeling so hot, we threw the blanket off. Then, in the morning we lay shivering, and it was ice cold in the room. All the time the kitchen window was a crack open, and the bathroom window too, and the bedroom doors ajar, so a draft could blow through. How come the room heated up around 2 a.m.? Once I bought a thermometer to measure it, but then I did not wake up to read it, and the day later it was gone, misplaced, I thought, like so many things.... my friend jeopardizes my efforts to find the truth. He is terrified to hear it and will not listen. If I continue, he will throw a fit and scream. This is how the brain is trying to protect one's sanity.
Then I became aware of the increase in gangstalking. I became aware of being surrounded by perps all the time. Of course one cannot talk about that either. Unless you want to end up in the Loony Bin.
I started browsing websites like crazy. The computer place was good. I discovered blogs. Also in German.
I saw that the problem is world wide. The hotspots seem to be Germany and the United States and Canada.
Highly civilized countries. I saw pictures that other Ti's put on their blogs. Some of the microwave injuries matched mine.
My brain is really foggy today and I have a metallic taste in the mouth. I think the perps are on the roof and blowing pesticide through the air conditioning in the usual manner. They can aim the beam of pesticide in my direction, regardless which computer I choose. It is just like it used to be at my former work place.
I am getting sick and will have to go away soon or throw up.
Whenever I go onto a computer now, even if I make a re-start, as soon as I type my email address, a black square appears briefly and flies out to the right side of my screen a millisecond later. I think the computers all in here and other places I frequent, have a pishing software installed now.
A lady at the computer place, environmentally aware, pointed a website out to me, that could be of interest:
it is HAARP, a website of the American Government about a project in Alaska.
In this project, microwaves are fired into the Ionosphere. This can influence the weather. Also they experiment with microwaves and mind control.
When microwaves are on the same frequency with brain waves, they can be pulsed to induce various feelings, like anger, fear, sleepiness, stupor......
The other day, a young perp woman snuck behind me into the small space between my body and the wall of the house at the corner where the bus stop is. This is why she could not get away quickly enough when I turned around after she pushed up pesticide between my legs from behind me.
She held in one hand high up, so I should not be able to grab it, both her player and her cellphone. Her fingers were near the side controlls. I did not recollect smelling any pesticide. How did she take me out, so she could perform the operation of pushing the pesticide up without my knowledge?
Did she have chloroform in the player? Or did she zap me electronically? This would mean I have an implant, and I am susceptible to mind control. I was always fiercly opposing this idea, because I am an independent woman. From the theories of other Ti's I learned, that it is possible to remotely influence them. But they hear voices and it is called V2K (voice to skull). I don't have that. I have, however, a soft spot on top of my head, and when I or my doctor press down on it, my head starts hurting inside.
From a blog I learned about another Ti and I was able to get in touch with her. Since then my world has changed. I feel heard and redeemed and confirmed in my knowledge that I am not insane.
Right now It comes to the point that I am too sick to continue writing, I can't think straight anymore.
To me it seemed "too far out there" and I could not make the connection to myself.
This happens, if the truth is so overwhelming that it could destroy you, by suicide or some other uncontrolled reaction, the brain takes precaution and lets the info come in only in very small increments, and very gradually it dawns on you: This is happening to me.
Finally I saw the truth: I am being microwaved. I am being operated on with a laser. I am a guinea pig for medical research of a government agency. All the ridicule of my relatives and close acquaintances could not change the knowledge: yes. It is happening to me.
There is the explanation for why, almost every time, in the middle of an ice cold winter night, both my friend and me woke up, and it was so hot in the room, and we were feeling so hot, we threw the blanket off. Then, in the morning we lay shivering, and it was ice cold in the room. All the time the kitchen window was a crack open, and the bathroom window too, and the bedroom doors ajar, so a draft could blow through. How come the room heated up around 2 a.m.? Once I bought a thermometer to measure it, but then I did not wake up to read it, and the day later it was gone, misplaced, I thought, like so many things.... my friend jeopardizes my efforts to find the truth. He is terrified to hear it and will not listen. If I continue, he will throw a fit and scream. This is how the brain is trying to protect one's sanity.
Then I became aware of the increase in gangstalking. I became aware of being surrounded by perps all the time. Of course one cannot talk about that either. Unless you want to end up in the Loony Bin.
I started browsing websites like crazy. The computer place was good. I discovered blogs. Also in German.
I saw that the problem is world wide. The hotspots seem to be Germany and the United States and Canada.
Highly civilized countries. I saw pictures that other Ti's put on their blogs. Some of the microwave injuries matched mine.
My brain is really foggy today and I have a metallic taste in the mouth. I think the perps are on the roof and blowing pesticide through the air conditioning in the usual manner. They can aim the beam of pesticide in my direction, regardless which computer I choose. It is just like it used to be at my former work place.
I am getting sick and will have to go away soon or throw up.
Whenever I go onto a computer now, even if I make a re-start, as soon as I type my email address, a black square appears briefly and flies out to the right side of my screen a millisecond later. I think the computers all in here and other places I frequent, have a pishing software installed now.
A lady at the computer place, environmentally aware, pointed a website out to me, that could be of interest:
it is HAARP, a website of the American Government about a project in Alaska.
In this project, microwaves are fired into the Ionosphere. This can influence the weather. Also they experiment with microwaves and mind control.
When microwaves are on the same frequency with brain waves, they can be pulsed to induce various feelings, like anger, fear, sleepiness, stupor......
The other day, a young perp woman snuck behind me into the small space between my body and the wall of the house at the corner where the bus stop is. This is why she could not get away quickly enough when I turned around after she pushed up pesticide between my legs from behind me.
She held in one hand high up, so I should not be able to grab it, both her player and her cellphone. Her fingers were near the side controlls. I did not recollect smelling any pesticide. How did she take me out, so she could perform the operation of pushing the pesticide up without my knowledge?
Did she have chloroform in the player? Or did she zap me electronically? This would mean I have an implant, and I am susceptible to mind control. I was always fiercly opposing this idea, because I am an independent woman. From the theories of other Ti's I learned, that it is possible to remotely influence them. But they hear voices and it is called V2K (voice to skull). I don't have that. I have, however, a soft spot on top of my head, and when I or my doctor press down on it, my head starts hurting inside.
From a blog I learned about another Ti and I was able to get in touch with her. Since then my world has changed. I feel heard and redeemed and confirmed in my knowledge that I am not insane.
Right now It comes to the point that I am too sick to continue writing, I can't think straight anymore.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Swarming with Street Theater
This is a gang stalking technique. The perps swarm around you like bees around the queen. You get totally overwhelmed with perps. They are all around you.
Today I got swarmed again, it happens every day now.
When I came from my daughter's place and went to Skytrain, there were about 20 perps with me on the bus.
They all tried to inject me, or spray me with their cellphones. They tried to get behind me and push up pesticide in my crotch.
I know, it sounds strange to say the least, but this is how it is.
Finally I read the excerpt from David Lawson's book about Community Gang Stalking.
It explains that the perps enjoy Gang Stalking. It gives them a sense of belonging, and they think they do it for a good cause. Because the target (me) has been totally badmouthed. I would have been called all kinds of things, like:
Babykiller, to get the Abortionists going
Devil Whorshipper, to get the Christian Scientists going
Shoplifter, to get the business owners going
Child molester, to get all of them going
and probably more things. I am none of those. I am a good person with great family values and would not, and have not, hurt anyone
So now the stalkers are very happy to do the community a service, they feel that they have a purpose in life, they make some money, they socialize a lot, they have total respect for their supervisors and follow them in a dog-like fashion of total obedience without questions. They are very close to their co-stalkers and treat them like a big family.
Ooohh, isn't that nice?....barf! The stalkers are on the bottom rung of the ladder. They have no job, no education and low self esteem. They get easily sucked in when somebody is giving their lives a purpose.
Sounds familiar? The third Reich comes to mind....Depression, no money, low self esteem, then a strong Leader emerges....
I am watching them. It is a cult. A cult that kills people without asking any questions. You can clearly see the influence the leaders have. In the beginning they were having sort of a uniform: The women all wore way too much dark make-up, over knee high leather boots, spandex pantyhose-like clinging pants and a fashionable short coat.
They s t a l k e d . Their gait was a stalking gait. The high heels hurt their feet. They did not look comfortable. The fat ones suffered a lot in the high heels.
After a young perp woman with beautiful large soft green eyes infiltrated the computer place and stole herself into my confidence, I told her that I identify the stalker women by their outrageous make up. The next day they did not wear the make up anymore. Also the clothes always looked as if bought at "Stalkers are us".
The Stalkers were now free to express their own style and they chose to look normal.
Dumb of me to fall for this soft spoken, empathetic acting woman. I have to guard myself better.
Now, back to the swarming. On the skytrain platform all the stalkers were waiting for the train. The platform was full. The train came and I did not get on, but let it go. The next train came, it was 10 am in the morning, traditionally a more quiet time, and the whole train was brimming full with perps, who had been driven to
22nd station and gotten on the skytrain.
Finally I took the third one, and it was only half full, but what was there, was all perp. So I got sprayed by
at least 7 cellphones. That was not everybody, the ones at the far end kept it for later.
I went to Burrard station and off. As I was in the middle car, a zillion perps were behind me, walking up to the escalator. As always, I turned around, back to the wall and started photographing them. No perp in his right mind sprays you in the face when a camera is in front of it. Because sometimes you can see the mist on the picture. And that then is evidence.
At Burrard, I had to take the 22 bus. A huge crowd of Japanese school girls went on the bus. I tricked one woman in front of me and got the seat next to the driver, I will call it the throne, because it is by itself and it is elevated. So all Japanese girls passed by me, and then a perp woman got on and she stayed in the front of the bus, near the driver and let some other people pass. The bus was jam packed full.
On the second stop this Asian East Indian guy got on, and even when he was still outside, I could see that he was no good news. And, right enough, he placed himself right in front of me and started spraying me with pesticide full force right into the face. I took my newspaper and started waving pretty hard, because that's what you have to do or you go down. He did not stop and did not stop and began to be annoyed about the waving, but this is normal, no perp likes to have the poison fanned back at him, they have to cough like everybody else..
Finally I got enough, because now the perp woman, whom I talked to before entering the bus, and who answered to the question:"What's in the bag?" (you know, the little stalker bag that they all carry) with: "My lunch" but not without a significant pause, significant enough for me to know that was a lie...
and here now the proof, she sprayed from her cellphone full blast among the people into my direction. Now I should have stopped waving and put the paper in front of my face, but I was too far gone, and I made the bad mistake to ask the guy to stop.
Now the play began as it had many times before: I said: "Could you please stop that?" The guy said in a very loud voice: "What? pardon? I am sorry, I don't think I heard what you said to me, what is it that you are requesting?" Could you stop it? "Stop what? excuse me, I don't quite follow, do you mean I should stop something?" You know "I know what? Is something bothering you? Why are you waving the newspaper in my face? This is pretty disrespectful, in fact this is the most disrespectful thing I have ever encountered, are you implying that I stink? Is that what you are saying?"
I am allergic "I don't wear any perfume, are you saying you cannot tolerate the way I smell? Do you tell me that I smell offensive? Have you heard that?" leaning to perp girl "She tells me that she cannot stand my smell, that is a very very racist thing to say, I don't think I should tolerate that, I think there should be something done about this, this goes entirely too far, how can subjects like this ride the bus, this does not belong into the community, why don't you leave, if you cannot stand it?"
Wow. I was flabbergasted and so entirely dizzy and foggy in the head from all that pesticide, that I was at a loss of words. We had just come across the Burrard bridge. I said to the old lady who tried to mediate "I am allergic to perfume" I also said: "he sprayed me with pesticide" at which he and the very old lady exchanged a glance, while perp woman kept on spraying my way. Then he pressed his cellphone one more time and started to film me. I put up my hand and tried to block him and said to the driver: "He is taking a film of me".
and the driver said "that's enough now, if you don't stop, I will stop the bus." I said: "but I did not do anything"
The driver stopped one stop before mine, and I decided to leave. I took a picture of the guy and got off the bus. Now that is what they call "STREET THEATER".
On the way to my doctor I encountered at least 8 perps, an old couple I have seen everywhere, but never expected them to be perps, among them.
After I came out from my doctor's office, the perps closed in on me again. I went to the beach by the ocean, and a lifeguard perp came to me to lecture me that dogs are not allowed on this beach. He knew bloody well that this was not my dog. He nearly sprayed me from behind. He would have been the only one who had a reason to come close to me at the beach. A few minutes later, when I left, he was behind me on the beach again. This is how I knew for certain that he was a perp. Perps come in all shapes and sizes and guises.
Then the game started again. First bus: 10 perps in the line up. ! Suitcase. Second bus: 2 perps inside,
One suitcase got on later, I guess that contained the wave gun.
Got off on Cambie: Perpville galore. Too many to photograph, I was just turning around and shooting for 5 Minutes. Started walking. Too scary on the bus. I went quiet sidestreets that are usually only frequented by cars, like Smithe, and some small streets beside Cambie. On all those streets perps came toward me, overtook me in their cars, came toward me again with a different outfit and hairstyle.
Perps overtook me on foot or jumped out of side streets. I fired and fired and fired and shot them all on my memory card. I must have made 300 pictures.
Finally I reached the street by the terminal station and collapsed on the Fraser bus.
When I told the driver that I was gang stalked and sprayed with pesticide by about 300 people, he told me that there was a guy on his bus who told him exactly the same.
I told him to spread the word among drivers to raise awareness and to tell the guy about "Targeted Individuals".
Today I got swarmed again, it happens every day now.
When I came from my daughter's place and went to Skytrain, there were about 20 perps with me on the bus.
They all tried to inject me, or spray me with their cellphones. They tried to get behind me and push up pesticide in my crotch.
I know, it sounds strange to say the least, but this is how it is.
Finally I read the excerpt from David Lawson's book about Community Gang Stalking.
It explains that the perps enjoy Gang Stalking. It gives them a sense of belonging, and they think they do it for a good cause. Because the target (me) has been totally badmouthed. I would have been called all kinds of things, like:
Babykiller, to get the Abortionists going
Devil Whorshipper, to get the Christian Scientists going
Shoplifter, to get the business owners going
Child molester, to get all of them going
and probably more things. I am none of those. I am a good person with great family values and would not, and have not, hurt anyone
So now the stalkers are very happy to do the community a service, they feel that they have a purpose in life, they make some money, they socialize a lot, they have total respect for their supervisors and follow them in a dog-like fashion of total obedience without questions. They are very close to their co-stalkers and treat them like a big family.
Ooohh, isn't that nice?....barf! The stalkers are on the bottom rung of the ladder. They have no job, no education and low self esteem. They get easily sucked in when somebody is giving their lives a purpose.
Sounds familiar? The third Reich comes to mind....Depression, no money, low self esteem, then a strong Leader emerges....
I am watching them. It is a cult. A cult that kills people without asking any questions. You can clearly see the influence the leaders have. In the beginning they were having sort of a uniform: The women all wore way too much dark make-up, over knee high leather boots, spandex pantyhose-like clinging pants and a fashionable short coat.
They s t a l k e d . Their gait was a stalking gait. The high heels hurt their feet. They did not look comfortable. The fat ones suffered a lot in the high heels.
After a young perp woman with beautiful large soft green eyes infiltrated the computer place and stole herself into my confidence, I told her that I identify the stalker women by their outrageous make up. The next day they did not wear the make up anymore. Also the clothes always looked as if bought at "Stalkers are us".
The Stalkers were now free to express their own style and they chose to look normal.
Dumb of me to fall for this soft spoken, empathetic acting woman. I have to guard myself better.
Now, back to the swarming. On the skytrain platform all the stalkers were waiting for the train. The platform was full. The train came and I did not get on, but let it go. The next train came, it was 10 am in the morning, traditionally a more quiet time, and the whole train was brimming full with perps, who had been driven to
22nd station and gotten on the skytrain.
Finally I took the third one, and it was only half full, but what was there, was all perp. So I got sprayed by
at least 7 cellphones. That was not everybody, the ones at the far end kept it for later.
I went to Burrard station and off. As I was in the middle car, a zillion perps were behind me, walking up to the escalator. As always, I turned around, back to the wall and started photographing them. No perp in his right mind sprays you in the face when a camera is in front of it. Because sometimes you can see the mist on the picture. And that then is evidence.
At Burrard, I had to take the 22 bus. A huge crowd of Japanese school girls went on the bus. I tricked one woman in front of me and got the seat next to the driver, I will call it the throne, because it is by itself and it is elevated. So all Japanese girls passed by me, and then a perp woman got on and she stayed in the front of the bus, near the driver and let some other people pass. The bus was jam packed full.
On the second stop this Asian East Indian guy got on, and even when he was still outside, I could see that he was no good news. And, right enough, he placed himself right in front of me and started spraying me with pesticide full force right into the face. I took my newspaper and started waving pretty hard, because that's what you have to do or you go down. He did not stop and did not stop and began to be annoyed about the waving, but this is normal, no perp likes to have the poison fanned back at him, they have to cough like everybody else..
Finally I got enough, because now the perp woman, whom I talked to before entering the bus, and who answered to the question:"What's in the bag?" (you know, the little stalker bag that they all carry) with: "My lunch" but not without a significant pause, significant enough for me to know that was a lie...
and here now the proof, she sprayed from her cellphone full blast among the people into my direction. Now I should have stopped waving and put the paper in front of my face, but I was too far gone, and I made the bad mistake to ask the guy to stop.
Now the play began as it had many times before: I said: "Could you please stop that?" The guy said in a very loud voice: "What? pardon? I am sorry, I don't think I heard what you said to me, what is it that you are requesting?" Could you stop it? "Stop what? excuse me, I don't quite follow, do you mean I should stop something?" You know "I know what? Is something bothering you? Why are you waving the newspaper in my face? This is pretty disrespectful, in fact this is the most disrespectful thing I have ever encountered, are you implying that I stink? Is that what you are saying?"
I am allergic "I don't wear any perfume, are you saying you cannot tolerate the way I smell? Do you tell me that I smell offensive? Have you heard that?" leaning to perp girl "She tells me that she cannot stand my smell, that is a very very racist thing to say, I don't think I should tolerate that, I think there should be something done about this, this goes entirely too far, how can subjects like this ride the bus, this does not belong into the community, why don't you leave, if you cannot stand it?"
Wow. I was flabbergasted and so entirely dizzy and foggy in the head from all that pesticide, that I was at a loss of words. We had just come across the Burrard bridge. I said to the old lady who tried to mediate "I am allergic to perfume" I also said: "he sprayed me with pesticide" at which he and the very old lady exchanged a glance, while perp woman kept on spraying my way. Then he pressed his cellphone one more time and started to film me. I put up my hand and tried to block him and said to the driver: "He is taking a film of me".
and the driver said "that's enough now, if you don't stop, I will stop the bus." I said: "but I did not do anything"
The driver stopped one stop before mine, and I decided to leave. I took a picture of the guy and got off the bus. Now that is what they call "STREET THEATER".
On the way to my doctor I encountered at least 8 perps, an old couple I have seen everywhere, but never expected them to be perps, among them.
After I came out from my doctor's office, the perps closed in on me again. I went to the beach by the ocean, and a lifeguard perp came to me to lecture me that dogs are not allowed on this beach. He knew bloody well that this was not my dog. He nearly sprayed me from behind. He would have been the only one who had a reason to come close to me at the beach. A few minutes later, when I left, he was behind me on the beach again. This is how I knew for certain that he was a perp. Perps come in all shapes and sizes and guises.
Then the game started again. First bus: 10 perps in the line up. ! Suitcase. Second bus: 2 perps inside,
One suitcase got on later, I guess that contained the wave gun.
Got off on Cambie: Perpville galore. Too many to photograph, I was just turning around and shooting for 5 Minutes. Started walking. Too scary on the bus. I went quiet sidestreets that are usually only frequented by cars, like Smithe, and some small streets beside Cambie. On all those streets perps came toward me, overtook me in their cars, came toward me again with a different outfit and hairstyle.
Perps overtook me on foot or jumped out of side streets. I fired and fired and fired and shot them all on my memory card. I must have made 300 pictures.
Finally I reached the street by the terminal station and collapsed on the Fraser bus.
When I told the driver that I was gang stalked and sprayed with pesticide by about 300 people, he told me that there was a guy on his bus who told him exactly the same.
I told him to spread the word among drivers to raise awareness and to tell the guy about "Targeted Individuals".
Monday, 6 June 2011
The Burnaby months
After I moved into this nice apartment, I felt relief and threw myself upon the task to make a new start in life.
This apartment was so nice! It had an open living room and kitchen concept, but it was not really open, there was a partial wall between it. When you came in the door, you looked at the mirror and the coat rack. The bright light came from the window on the right hand side where the open kitchen was. The kitchen
had a black and white chessboard floor with large tiles. It looked so retro! white metal cabinets, you could walk through to the window with view of the adjacent yard and 2 storey building, and behind the window there was a small fire escape landing. The computer table was beside the window, and when you turned the corner into the living room I had my bookshelves there, and the dining table, and a couch on the kitchen side wall, and the TV on the far wall. There was another window by the dining table, and one on the far wall. Hardwood floors.
Then, from the entrance door to the left, you passed the bedroom on the right on the way to the washroom with bathtub.
I put my 2 Persian carpets down, and it looked fabulous. Bright, on the 3rd floor. Large, roomy, with a separate bedroom, so you could keep the living room tidy for visitors.
All my contaminated clothing that I had not thrown away yet, I put into the storage unit in the basement. I had the hope that the poison would expire.
I also had hope that everything was going to be alright. But it should work out differently.
The telephone got bugged before I moved in. Upon that I changed the lock to an expensive one for $ 300.-- that was said to be unpickable.
I started to get accustomed to the new surroundings, bought more things at Metrotown Mall and made a nice home.
After a couple of days I came home and my new dress, hanging in the hallway, had been sprayed with pesticide. I could not find any way of entrance and deducted, that the perps had sprayed it from underneath the apartment door. I bought a piece of moulding, cut it to size, drilled the bottom of the door with my old fashioned hand drill, screwed it on and closed the gap.
Every time I left the house, I secured the old fashioned hook windows by tying them up with string from the inside. This worked fine for 2 weeks and I started to relax a little bit. It made me nervous to see that somebody had replaced the old smoke detectors with new ones and that there was one right in front of my door, and in front of the the back door to the fire escapes on every floor, and also in front of the main entrance door. and in the laundry room, but I did not think too much about it.
Then I saw, out of my bedroom window, John Ceausescu's car parked outside my place on the street.
Then I saw him walking towards his car, holding both hands in front of him. that was the day when I discovered a big square hole in the ceiling of the laundry room.
The next thing that happened was that a Romanian couple moved in to the lower suite of the building on the opposite side of the street. Their living room windows were overlooking my entrance. One time I went onto the lawn in front of their suite and saw through the open balcony door the older woman sitting in a chair and staring at the TV intently.
After that the horror nightmare continued again: My car was constantly being poisoned. Several times I saw a guy with a bucket run away in a crouched manner in the early morning or at dusk. When I looked at my car, it was soaking wet inside, and stank of pesticide. Sometimes when I sat in the driver's seat, my clothes were wet from back of knee to neck. It was literally breathtaking. I got very dizzy and was constantly driving with the windows open. Later I covered everything in plastic, but then they sprayed the plastic, but it could be replaced. All the time I was using plastic bags as one-time-gloves to touch the poisoned steering wheel with.
The tips of my fingers started to peel from the constant poisoning.
One day I went to my daughter's place and when I returned I saw, that the whole apartment had been sprayed, the walls had been painted again with pesticide mix and the whole place stank unbelievably and I could not breathe. Pesticide in absolutely everything again, clothes, bedding, kitchen cutting board, dishes, condiments, sugar, salt, you name it, the place was contaminated to the gills.
I told the son of the owner, as he was a police man. He asked: "Is anything stolen? no? How did he get in?"
I did not know. He came into my apartment, sniffed a bit, told me there was a bit of mould in the one corner at the window, and I should wash the floor and that was that. Ok.....what else is new. I had cleaned away the mould right away when I moved in. I had washed down the cabinets and window frames and window sills. It was smelling fine after that..
But how did he get in? My windows were still tied. The expensive lock not broken. I examined the windows thoroughly, and, voila.... on the kitchen window where the fire escape landing is, there was fresh grout on the window to keep it in the frame. The Killer, John Ceausescu most likely, had taken the old broken grout out of the metal windowframe, then re-grouted it after he left. Unfortunately I destroyed the thumbprint in the grout while testing it. Needless to say that he found the second key still in it's box, with invoice, paperwork, security number, passwords and all, and copied it.
This was now the end of my happy time there and soon I was so stressed out that I had the accident. The recovery took a long time because my injuries got injected at night with pesticide but I had no knowledge of that. The perps walked in and out of my apartment freely when I was out or sleeping, and my life quality was zero.
After 3 months I gave notice. The perps fiddled with the heating thermostat in the heater room every day so my place was ice cold in winter. Every time I did laundry downstairs, it was heavily contaminated.
I had no idea that there were cameras in the new smoke detectors and the woman across was doing nothing else but watching me all day and night.
When I complained to the owner of the building, they shrugged me off. Even the one time, when I complained to his police man son, and the woman opposite took a green plastic bowl under her arm and went outside, and stood close to us to listen in, he shrugged me off and told me to get psychological treatment.
After I started vomiting up everything I cooked at home, I noticed one day, that the salt, which I always put into the palm of my hand to measure it, contained some white powder, that still stuck to my hand after I let the salt fall into the soup. I thought that strange, although I had noticed this for some time, and begun to think it is normal. But that time it seemed more powder and I called my daughter at home and asked her to make a test if her salt sticks too. She said no. I knew there was DDT or something different in the salt. I tried to get it analyzed, but police put me down and labs wanted a letter from the police and the name of the poison. How could I know the name of the poison?? If I knew it, I would not need a laboratory. I could see that if I did not get out, I would most likely die soon in this apartment. Still weakened from the accident, I asked my daughter if I could stay with her for some time and she said yes.
She came over and we sorted out the contaminated clothes and threw away everything but what fit into two suitcases. That was hard for me to do, as there were things that had cost a lot of money and also things I still had from Germany. Then we put all my other things and the furniture into storage. As my car was totalled, I was dependent on public transport.
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This apartment was so nice! It had an open living room and kitchen concept, but it was not really open, there was a partial wall between it. When you came in the door, you looked at the mirror and the coat rack. The bright light came from the window on the right hand side where the open kitchen was. The kitchen
had a black and white chessboard floor with large tiles. It looked so retro! white metal cabinets, you could walk through to the window with view of the adjacent yard and 2 storey building, and behind the window there was a small fire escape landing. The computer table was beside the window, and when you turned the corner into the living room I had my bookshelves there, and the dining table, and a couch on the kitchen side wall, and the TV on the far wall. There was another window by the dining table, and one on the far wall. Hardwood floors.
Then, from the entrance door to the left, you passed the bedroom on the right on the way to the washroom with bathtub.
I put my 2 Persian carpets down, and it looked fabulous. Bright, on the 3rd floor. Large, roomy, with a separate bedroom, so you could keep the living room tidy for visitors.
All my contaminated clothing that I had not thrown away yet, I put into the storage unit in the basement. I had the hope that the poison would expire.
I also had hope that everything was going to be alright. But it should work out differently.
The telephone got bugged before I moved in. Upon that I changed the lock to an expensive one for $ 300.-- that was said to be unpickable.
I started to get accustomed to the new surroundings, bought more things at Metrotown Mall and made a nice home.
After a couple of days I came home and my new dress, hanging in the hallway, had been sprayed with pesticide. I could not find any way of entrance and deducted, that the perps had sprayed it from underneath the apartment door. I bought a piece of moulding, cut it to size, drilled the bottom of the door with my old fashioned hand drill, screwed it on and closed the gap.
Every time I left the house, I secured the old fashioned hook windows by tying them up with string from the inside. This worked fine for 2 weeks and I started to relax a little bit. It made me nervous to see that somebody had replaced the old smoke detectors with new ones and that there was one right in front of my door, and in front of the the back door to the fire escapes on every floor, and also in front of the main entrance door. and in the laundry room, but I did not think too much about it.
Then I saw, out of my bedroom window, John Ceausescu's car parked outside my place on the street.
Then I saw him walking towards his car, holding both hands in front of him. that was the day when I discovered a big square hole in the ceiling of the laundry room.
The next thing that happened was that a Romanian couple moved in to the lower suite of the building on the opposite side of the street. Their living room windows were overlooking my entrance. One time I went onto the lawn in front of their suite and saw through the open balcony door the older woman sitting in a chair and staring at the TV intently.
After that the horror nightmare continued again: My car was constantly being poisoned. Several times I saw a guy with a bucket run away in a crouched manner in the early morning or at dusk. When I looked at my car, it was soaking wet inside, and stank of pesticide. Sometimes when I sat in the driver's seat, my clothes were wet from back of knee to neck. It was literally breathtaking. I got very dizzy and was constantly driving with the windows open. Later I covered everything in plastic, but then they sprayed the plastic, but it could be replaced. All the time I was using plastic bags as one-time-gloves to touch the poisoned steering wheel with.
The tips of my fingers started to peel from the constant poisoning.
One day I went to my daughter's place and when I returned I saw, that the whole apartment had been sprayed, the walls had been painted again with pesticide mix and the whole place stank unbelievably and I could not breathe. Pesticide in absolutely everything again, clothes, bedding, kitchen cutting board, dishes, condiments, sugar, salt, you name it, the place was contaminated to the gills.
I told the son of the owner, as he was a police man. He asked: "Is anything stolen? no? How did he get in?"
I did not know. He came into my apartment, sniffed a bit, told me there was a bit of mould in the one corner at the window, and I should wash the floor and that was that. Ok.....what else is new. I had cleaned away the mould right away when I moved in. I had washed down the cabinets and window frames and window sills. It was smelling fine after that..
But how did he get in? My windows were still tied. The expensive lock not broken. I examined the windows thoroughly, and, voila.... on the kitchen window where the fire escape landing is, there was fresh grout on the window to keep it in the frame. The Killer, John Ceausescu most likely, had taken the old broken grout out of the metal windowframe, then re-grouted it after he left. Unfortunately I destroyed the thumbprint in the grout while testing it. Needless to say that he found the second key still in it's box, with invoice, paperwork, security number, passwords and all, and copied it.
This was now the end of my happy time there and soon I was so stressed out that I had the accident. The recovery took a long time because my injuries got injected at night with pesticide but I had no knowledge of that. The perps walked in and out of my apartment freely when I was out or sleeping, and my life quality was zero.
After 3 months I gave notice. The perps fiddled with the heating thermostat in the heater room every day so my place was ice cold in winter. Every time I did laundry downstairs, it was heavily contaminated.
I had no idea that there were cameras in the new smoke detectors and the woman across was doing nothing else but watching me all day and night.
When I complained to the owner of the building, they shrugged me off. Even the one time, when I complained to his police man son, and the woman opposite took a green plastic bowl under her arm and went outside, and stood close to us to listen in, he shrugged me off and told me to get psychological treatment.
After I started vomiting up everything I cooked at home, I noticed one day, that the salt, which I always put into the palm of my hand to measure it, contained some white powder, that still stuck to my hand after I let the salt fall into the soup. I thought that strange, although I had noticed this for some time, and begun to think it is normal. But that time it seemed more powder and I called my daughter at home and asked her to make a test if her salt sticks too. She said no. I knew there was DDT or something different in the salt. I tried to get it analyzed, but police put me down and labs wanted a letter from the police and the name of the poison. How could I know the name of the poison?? If I knew it, I would not need a laboratory. I could see that if I did not get out, I would most likely die soon in this apartment. Still weakened from the accident, I asked my daughter if I could stay with her for some time and she said yes.
She came over and we sorted out the contaminated clothes and threw away everything but what fit into two suitcases. That was hard for me to do, as there were things that had cost a lot of money and also things I still had from Germany. Then we put all my other things and the furniture into storage. As my car was totalled, I was dependent on public transport.
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