Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Shrinking, cutting, microwaving and street theather

Today my neck got cut, and I am missing at least half an inch of my former length of neck.

You ask how this is possible?

I have had the strangest symptoms in and on my body for years.
Just four weeks ago I found the name for it.  I am a Targeted Individual. 
A subject for Gangstalking, Harassment, Terror, Microwaving, Laser Cutting, Medical Experiments.

I can only assume that they injected my neck with a mixture of bile and soy bean oil, because on the day before yesterday, my face and neck were extremely yellow.  Other parts of my body too.  Traditionally the next day I will miraculously lose weight on these bodyparts.  This is a procedure used by liposuction clinics.
The bile and oil dissolve the membranes of the fat cells and the fat becomes liquid when it is heated with a laser of microwaved. It then will be sucked off or is metabolized by the body.

And I did lose weight.  My face is smaller, my cheeks hollower and my chin has retreated yet another 2 cm. The laser can cut bone, also.
When I look down the front of my body, my chin immediately hits my breastbone.  My head is so far back that I cannot see my lower belly anymore, leave alone my legs.

I have pressure in my throat and swallowing is different. My teeth were mis-aligned and hurting in the morning. I lost a lot of hearing and yesterday, but when I grabbed my ears and pulled them away from the head, suddenly I could hear like before. But you can't go through life with your hands pulling your ears away from your head all the time.

The reason for my problems breathing and swallowing might be, that the clavicle bones seemed to have moved up and are now way inside my neck.  Only that they cannot move up. But the neck was shrunk.
The far back of my throat has been cut with a laser many times. Sometimes the swallowing point is so far away I cannot see it in the mirror. But I can photograph it with the flash on. 

I wonder what else happened to me. I lost 5 cm of my height. Maybe 2 cm can be attributed to old age.

Finally, after 10 years of 24/7 torture, I have an explanation for the superficial holes in my skin. The horse shoe shaped one on the back of my right hand  The indents on my left hand. The red and blue bruises on my ankles, the swelling of my ankles in the morning, the pain in my knees, the white and dark brown lines on the back of my knees. The deep deep undercut on my abdomen. The white lines between my thighs. The white lines are laser cuts.  The laser leaves no marks. There is no blood and ergo there can be no infection. The cut is being soldered with my own lymph liquid.

On the top of my head there is an indent in the skull and a soft spot.  When I press it, it hurts and I have a bad headache.  That cannot be normal.

I am reluctant to go to a hospital, because of previous bad experiences and because I can never be sure to be able to leave it,  as they most likely will try to certify me.

Once you are in the mill, it will grind you to pieces. I know that much.  The story sounds too crazy.

If you think this sounds pretty detached, that is just the surface. I have the impulse to scream.  But that would take away from my alertness.  I cannot afford it.

That was one thing.

The other thing is a different story, also one that happens on a daily basis:

I came from the computer place as I call  it, which is a place for people with disabilities, and it is very nice and there are all kinds of people there, very smart ones and other ones, and perps, too, in both categories.

I jumped onto the 99 Broadway bus just as I turned the corner and because I had no waiting time, there were not excessively many perps on the bus. Actually, I like to call them killers.  Because that's what they are.

So only about 6 of them were close enough to spray me, and only 2 chose to do so right away, but there was that normal looking backpack on the luggage rest.  Normally backpacks stay with the owner.

Later on the owner lady asked her per friend at the Granville stop, to come into the bus and carry the bag for her, and I could see that it was extremely heavy.  Immediately microwave weapons came to mind, as it was in a location where I traditionally stand right in front of it and even lean against.
But already my internal radar was up and I sat down almost opposite of it, which was only half smart, but the possibilities were restricted.
So I got 2 doses of phone spray (They hide pesticide or chloroform in the battery pack of their smart phones and mp3 players and can make it squirt out and fly 5 meters by pressing a button) , and I was pretty groggy
when I got off the bus at MacDonald.  I shopped some stuff at Safeway and got on the 22 to my home.

Outside the bus this woman talked to me and criticized my behaviour on the 99 bus, and said I drew attention to myself in the bus.  All I did was hiding my nose behind a newspaper and fanning the pesticide back to the sender.
Then I asked my neighbour if she could smell the sweet-biting smell. She did not.  Then I said I am allergic to many things and left it at that.

safeway bags in my hands and the carry cart, and my handbag. Left and right of me a killer guy, harmless looking.
I told the woman to go to the internet and look up gangstalking, then come back and criticize me some more.

Meanwhile Asian killer girl was sneaking closer, cellphone in hand at a low level, directed at me.

 I looked her into the eye and made a shooing hand gesture, whereupon she retreated backward like a good little killer.

Then the bitchy woman got really loud and said "this was really very rude" and went on and on and made a racket.  Meanwhile other killer girls who get on this bus every time, regardless of time day or night, and sprayed me or just pointed their phone at me while entering the bus.


Bitchwoman now criticized me for standing in the aisle, while she herself was standing there right in front of me, on the other side of the aisle, and I said that I am getting off.  And she said "get off then" and I told her I intend to get off on the next stop, if she kindly would let me pass.  And then she said:" Oh no, I am not gonna let you pass, no way, you have to go to the back door.

Meanwhile the other perp girls and guys were exchanging meaningful glances and laughed meanly and with a superior air.  I got ready to run full force over Bitchy's feet, when the killer guy in front of me sat on the empty entrance seat and so made room for my exit.

Upon leaving I said "thank you" to the driver nicely, but formal and the damn driver said nothing.

This was a prime example of the thing they call "Street Theather".  And Bitchy was a perp from a different place, and thus unknown to me.

When I came home and opened the Safeway shopping bags, I saw, that they were both almost shredded.
I could see the needle entrance marks of 2 needles. The other holes were probably needles too.
The killers enjoy to inject my fruit, milk, water, bread, butter and vegetables with pesticide.
So they staged all this to divert my attention from my groceries plus undermining me and painting me as insane and a problem to bus drivers.

A day in the life of a TI.

I want to get out of this.

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