Contact

May 14, 2019; I have to find a way out of this LURE-trap, petroleum LURE trap all over me. I don’t know how the system does all this covering it up, they’ve got everything like pseudo-reality, all make believe goings-on around oblivious-type me and I can’t guess what all they might actually be doing in their undergrounds around me. I’ve figured it isn’t safe to try to get in touch with me and I still don’t think it is but I can’t find any way out of this by myself, on this “fixed” social security income now, month to month the same just making ends meet expenses that it would be too irresponsible to make any extra expenses, am always figuring I’m lucky to be functioning still at all, but it might be so easy to get me and therefore maybe the planet out of this death-grip of the system’s. My cellphone # is 202) 459-8618, the gmail is UniverseRescue.Attempt@gmail.com. The address I’ve got doesn’t seem trustworthy, neither the mailing address or the rented room’s. I’ve never had a normal Comment made to this blogsite, only 2 abnormal ones that had seemed to just pop up by themselves and then there’s alot of what’s called “spam” that comes in that doesn’t seem to have any actual correlation to what I’m writing about. I don’t know if phone calls, emails and Comments are intercepted by the brain-eaters, all these years now. Everything is unnatural for me in that I never have contact with anyone natural-style. Two times I’d requested the copy of the (Carl Sagan) book “Contact” from the Library of Congress and it didn’t get received, giving me the feeling that the system was forbidding all “contact” to me and things have just remained this way, all kinds of creepy little things going on around me but me just walking around and going to the libraries in this vacuum, isolation-vacuum, by myself and this could be changed in an instant by a normal communication. Twice now the system’s sent hoax-like communications just before they made me sick with the slug-pneumonia deathly illness, the communications meant to give me the wrongful-concept that someone might be helping me to get out of this LURE position I’m all by myself in, as though that my exuberance over a possible way out would attract unsuspecting people, to this “world-saving” scam the system’s been doing/pulling off of me for decades back to maybe 1979. They’re real practiced and it seems they’d gotten re-practiced when I’d been in NY in 2003-05, which is one of the reasons I’m currently trying to get hold of the guy who’d written this “Breakshot” book about his own time in Brooklyn all around then also, etc., etc. I’m going to try changing the “About” heading to this “Contact” one now to underscore this increased desperation. Which brings up also that I think these bums had just done one of their ritual-tricks last week to make believe that I’d bought some huge bottle of mayonnaise for only 99 cents, where the jar was too heavy for me to carry, I’m old and weak from all this illness they’ve been doing, but they’d done a trick to ring up an extra 99 cents and now they’ve got these death-signs for like the upcoming Memorial Day along my path to get to this place, and 2 scenes with police this morning and tricks like that going on that don’t, like the ghost 99-cents on my bill, really exist, are this “hallucino-reality” that I keep saying will wind “us” up as extincted. — To these system-things that have long been living on/off of my head “mayonnaise” they correlate to that one might unease, feel uneasy. They do this with virtually everything, any item of food or day of the week or anything they have these bizarre “meanings” over anything and I’ve been living with that like some shadow over my brain all of these “Armageddon Show” decades, since 1993 specifically that I’d known about, increasingly. They’re insane, all the time. etc.

16 May, the main thing though is that I don’t have a Contact in the world if they make me hospitalized again. Without a person to help you out of those places I might not be able to get out, and there’s also no Internet available for me in a VA hospital to be able to reach here even to look at the files. These parasites make it seem like everything is some mild trivial joke that they do to me all day long every day, that it’s unbelievable that THIS is how they’re making the real end of the real planet and all the real life that had gone on before us, that this “Man In Oriental Costume/The Turk” director-seeming type

Man In Oriental Costume/The Turk, NGA, by either Flinck and-or Rembrandt, bought from the Hermitage by Andrew Mellon and donated to here circa 1934.

has a mild affect of seeming to be some or another sort of a reasonable human but they aren’t, it’s been many decades like this for me, 24/7. Back circa 1961 when they’d latched-onto me for all this “assistance” to their kind they’d believed that they’d soon be ruling the Earth from Mars, really. They’d broken the glass-ceiling effect of the “sound barrier” and were on their way out to the other planets and long-believed that there’d be “intelligent life” out there somewhere that they could either get along with as co-intellectuals “limitlessly” high on their brain-eating beliefs, or that they could also round up and take prisoner but that there’d be SOMETHING out in all that space that they’d be rich and powerful off of having gotten to, and cursing a little nothing like myself toward getting that for themselves was ignorable, a little nothing kid they were doing a few tricks off of, so what, inconsiderable. When they didn’t find any riches they just went into cover-up that their plan had been a failure and they kept living off of me more and more. There are so many of their main 2 types, the St. Christopher black-haired insane type and the Pill-grim boy Autist petroleum-mogul type all around all over me and this and there’s still this affect of that this is only some trivial amusement and nothing important that they’re doing behind my back all around me. I can’t discuss much of what they’re doing because I’m sitting right in it with them all around me and I’m saddled with this oxygen-tank can’t breathe-disease they know how to pull, that I can’t move and wouldn’t know where I could go and don’t know a soul, etc., horror-situation this is, as I’d described is the modus operandi when I’d found this room back last Sept-Oct., that the system was going to make one chess-type “move” to corral me into this LURE situation a little more each day and that’s what I’m in now, real bad. Yet the part that makes me the longtime world’s most-tortured person ever is that then they use this horror-desperation on my part or even without my input for getting normal males LURED toward trying to find out more about this and how assistance could be gotten to me, like the easiest thing in the world it would be to assist me because I only require the teeniest bit or a normal contact with another person in order to get ideas for getting out of and away from this, and all normals are forbidden contact, can’t think when I’ve even known one, looking back in retrospect at all these set-ups. It’s an emergency for me to know someone that can help to just escort me out of a hospital when/if that happens again and it’s been this way, me looking for anyone for that, since 2014, that my mind always has that in the back of itself as a possibility, of finding anyone responsible enough just to be able to visit me in a hospital and help me walk out then, and that hasn’t anything to do then with the large picture of that these petroleum freak brain-eaters are really going to trash the planet in order to continue their power-fun. I don’t have any idea what happens with a Contact Form like this, who’d get the message. I’ve never even gotten a Comment or a person who’s discussed this blog with me after saying that yes they’d called it up, but since the bums have driven me to this super-desperation syndrome again I’m going to put this here though it’d seem either easier or just as futile to try telephoning or gmailing me, 202) 459-8618, Universe Rescue.Attempt @ gmail.com.

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