Journal pieces …………

Misc. disorganized notes temporarily stored here


The underground is terrorizing , mostly the catholic charities but also the shuttle-van company. Eight-thirty last night, a Sunday night, the night-shelter announced that their hours changed and if we’re not there by 5:30 pm today we’ll lose our beds and I called the when it wasn:t the “hypothermia” early bus run at 2 p.m. and the guy said that they’d be at this location at the usual time, 4:30, where the usual time has ALWAYS been 6:30, for CCs” 7 to 7:30 entry intake. Then the other girls, “girls” in our fifties and sixties, all went to go catch the regular city bus and I don’t have $2 in general let alone for that if I did have $2, so I took my chance that the bus would be arriving and it didn’t: and the desk lady at the shelter’s attitude changed from that it wouldn’t be any big deal on my first call about this to that i might lose the bed. The guy at the bus company had merely made an error and this new schedule doesn’t begin until tomorrow. And this gutter-joke out of me, is how the book of Revelation has been getting *snuck-through,” — like that “as a thief in the night” description. When the girls walked away they had one of them that’d stayed behind offering to pay my fare because she has 2 of the bus/Metro cards, and her standing there looking at me works in tandem with the underworld “magic” or Merchant of Venice” -type or whatever, like a vacumn on the pit of my stomach to worry me and suck-out my horror/complaints that THIS IS how the book of Revelation gets snuck-through, getting me upset by script-fabricated tricks, then she left and I turned and one of the “Aldous Huxley” -type horror-characters was here, dressed in some black/o.d. green outfit and then walked over doing a cell phone bit that sounded offhand like reporting to an authority that I’m ranting and raving out here and so I’d started doing this because I never have anyone “normal” to talk to, no real (or surviving) witnesses. This doesn’t fit in the whole concurrent petroleum ritual/s theme or that this is right after what was probably a/big-kill of the season weekend, that the destitute and broke people work to LURE people and then doing things to get me upset creates the anger-excuse by which the LURED are “disappeared_’ all this = ” teamwork,” and I’m not on any team but it’s my fault that the people “disappeared.” What they did to freshen my horror of the petroleum-theme was to put a big black-garbage bag covered cart on wheels or some such outside the door where “the team” knew I’d be stuck sitting till after 6 pm, the girl putting it out here I equate with the petroleum-theme so that it made me uneasy and then all of a sudden the other “girls” said they were taking the regular city/town bus.. The petroleum-theme started like last November when workmen had put up a scaffold but all oil was put to set into the cement and bricks on the other side of this entrance, where I usually liked to stand and the scaffold came down and I saw that and haven’t been comfortable here since, This scene now is probably for. kill-purposes but passed off as being simply because these groups’ team-types don’t want me being around as a parasite anymore, want me to MOVE, is how this Merchant of Venice-directed Armageddon idling (=illegible) has generally been all or most of this millennium and further back no doubt, the gimmick of being chased around into wildernesses.

7/21/17, Friday. I can’t figure what’s the “real reason for this change of the shelter’s check-in time. They changed it again to that it’s okay to check-in till seven, but that’s a trick because the shuttle-bus/van doesn’t get here till 7:15 and I can’t walk quickly or stand any kind of confusion. They have a racket started just because I’m doing this because this “new” shuttle-time had me here a little before five and I’m suspicious of the ulterior motive for what seems reasonable after all the years of the unreasonable 7-7 hardship, if it’s just a scam because I wasn”t taking the 2pm “hyperthermia” entry-time, as they’ve been busy with what I guess is their regular LURE Program. Usually I arrive and don’t get checked-in till 7:30, and there’s.almost always some disturbance of some sort or any other. Then yesterday at 5:15 was so bad that I have trepidation about a Friday early entry, so I feel forced to make a note, especially after this day that’s seemed dedicated to making s*** out It might have something to do with the food stamp re-certification, as there’s maybe a pattern of guys like that particular tall worker.

7/27/17, Thursday

It’s like a war against July 27, like the underworld has run out of “others” and is just attacking the “physical” day itself with all its not-doing-anything extra energy, to “take it down.” They appear to have put a new key onto this keyboard” I’ll practice: zZ**zZ**\z\– it won’t come through, just the new star and then the back-slash that perhaps was there before. It’s like the top of a held upside down hockey stick sitting over the letter z, like a backwards apostrophe, but it doesn’t show up in the typing so far. I could use a one-step apostrophe.– it’s a piece of dirt on the inside of the glass…. And, police car #3032, almost steely on a phony call because I’ve never seen anything normal from this staff-girl that seems to have called them, and first there was a fire evacuation just after 5 a.m., then Protective Services 3 cops for no real apparent reason, talking to one of the “Program” loony-goonies for awhile and then meandering off and now at the Bethany’s this duo.
The underworld is wrecking the screen-glass because I’d wet a finger in my mouth to try to scrape some gunk off of a library screen the other day, and similar health curses, leading me to suspect that underworld evil-ish/babar-goons have been assigned to or are otherwise sabotage-lurking physically all around my captive hologram-image.
They’ve disappeared where the battery-level reading used to be and the weather keeps saying it’s 95 degrees even though it’s been cool.

8/7/17, Monday

the little animal, the “Thunderville”-performer, was put into this room #3 about a week ago and there haven’t been any problems so now she’s doing that ‘circling” ritual real conspicuously.


the cellphone just vanished all this work I’ve been doing. the monster came into the room and into that bunk and I set this cellphone down and turned to a new direction to give her some privacy and readjusted and picked up the next paper and the whole file’s vanished without explanation except the sadism’s fun.(st Augustine was at 15th and L sts from 1858 to 1962, joining st Paul:s at 15th and V)

8/25/17, Friday

typical big set up day and I’m attempting to self-protect by a few notes that this had been ritualized by having a retarded-type character knock into me back last night at shelter-check in to dump her big bowl of fried shrimp all over the floor, and now a scene of delaying me while a pointy-cheeks microwaves cooked what looked like angel hair pasta and I started babbling about how THIS is how that book of the Revelation is being snuck-through and similar statements that might provide waited-for excuse for ambulance-disappearing me. Seven more minutes and I can go get the 5th Activity, that allows one to do clothes-wash in this place, and I figure this hunting and pecking on the cell phone keeps me preoccupied. I got a double piece of mail from the SafeLink people that I’ll try to read a. little later.8/29, Tues., the Jew, “”, and ” the animals,” all all over me till I just had to “lecture” this one behind my back that her new little act is 1 of about 200-250 tricks a day that’ve been being played on me here most of this millennium as how the brain-damaged underground has been getting the book of Revelation carried out, and she’s already back to doing it. I’m musing that she and another character might come from Timothy Leary and she had a positive reaction but everything is meaningless, there’s no point in asking, they don’t have conversations with me.
9.3.17, Sunday, “holiday” tomorrow big LURE “entertainment” encrusted all over me; just horrified me out of the dollar-store by a subway-looking Stormville-face, all sirens going off because I’m attempting to get it mentioned that THIS is how they do that book of Revelation, creating gutter-horror off of my little life encrusted like this
9/10/17- the rotten animals, the “Parasites” I recall now I used to call them, the white-haired type like Watson, Bell’s partner, the smiling sadistic monsters have the “Julie-type” as their stereotyped partner and sent one of those over to walk in front of me when I got to the Navy Memorial this morning so that it got my start all screwed up, then also making fun that I have no partner that I could photograph for helping to describe the gray blobs the photos would look like to the uninitiated. add to that that it’s like Earth’s constructed hell all around down there, and me with the animal-circus invisible torture as usual still.

10/25/17, Wed. pm

the monsters are killing me over this “ss fund” business, my age-62 social security receipt. I thought up some things I can run around trying to do to get it straightened out and realize that that’s like handing the underworld an activities list of things they can then get busy with doing for themselves in order to contort my activities toward their Armageddon for themselves, some whole force of bums going into sneak-world action as I struggle to walk and get to these locations tomorrow then. the whole social security office is moved to the SW starting Monday, meaning I’d only have 2 days for trying to get the errand-set done, making it high trauma-drama for the bums off of this typical “difficulty-set” for myself, the Bethany mail-pickup location moved to around their corner today, then next week being Halloween and a 1st of a month, further complicating my logistics for trying to receive the envelope, which ss’s rep said they’d mailed but they’ll mail another check and if I don’t get that they’ll open an investigation, but I wouldn’t have any relief from this poverty by which the monsters’ tearing me apart to death is enabled. I thought that I could check with a bank branch about if they could work with me and if so I could bring the paperwork to as on Friday, conceivably getting the whole horror straightened out, except that the only bank that seems okay-convenient is next door to the library of congress, a bank of america, me with all these Armageddon-,making parasites’ operating off of whatever I try to do and seeming real “vile” about trying to prevent my actually receiving anything, underworld “Program ‘brawling'” over forbidding that via the secret “fraud-family” scam, it’s Jerry Springer-Hee-Haw show entertainment as the starter for milking this sabotage stall and that shadow-behind my back into the 2nd and Pennsylvania, SE location that would be supposed to be my private personal little old-age banking location, bringing all these different types of the Armageddon-animals into right there however both inadvertantly and “nothing to lose” since they’re already doing all the evil anyway all along, but it does seem it might be worth the effort to try to find something not near-the controversial subject LOC, giving these turds lots of activities in their quest to foil my little life.10/27, Friday this monstrosity was, the monsters letting me work quietly at the NE branch but then halfway back to the shelter and no time for detours I saw I was in the LURE gimmicking off (of) the roadworks construction project on mass. avenue toward the shelter, that that’s “the price” for being able to sit undisturbed for the 5 hours, this Armageddon sneak-perpetrated. it/they were awful about the bank-trip yesterday, and today so there wasn’t sense trying but it’s too difficult to hunt and peck such micro-details.
7 pm, Armageddon-program typical unprovable micro- attack-set, a staff-person clearly saying one of the underworld’s countless lingo-tricks then but I have a “bugaboo” about quoting any of the pseudo-reality for fear of validating what’s headed for the TPE. it was to pronounce the phrase to watch out as though it’s wa-chow,/t, in some little rigged-trick, but in addition to all my difficulties then my brain is also made confuse-nervous over what they entail onto that and then how much, how big a “ritual” set up that might have been premeditated to be, so it starts me babbling that THIS is how the book of Revelation threats are snuck through, as the timing was that a new security guard was checking my bag, like I can’t just stand there while they pull tricks like that and pull them in front of/because there are strangers around, etc., so that then I was upset about the usual (weekend/holiday-level) being taken advantage of and went to a shower stall but wanted to make a note on the phrase-trick to relieve my mind from thought of it, but didn’t, don’t have any paper so I turned this cellphone back on and one of their worst characters barged to the unlatched door and started going into its horror-routine and another one seemed to be doing its stall-hogging so I came out here because they’re usually doing them for around half an hour.

12/19/17, Sat., 10:45 a.m.

things are bad, forced to the NE branch library over a miscalculation and this Babar-Ainu-Jomon-Stormville-SFClown-Autist boys’ “production show” off of me is killing me. (to a guilt-trick that I’m making others nervous.)

2/9/18, Fri., 10 a.m.

they sprang some monster-world trap as I’m trying to toddle out of the Bethany’s after mail check, of some oil-stereotype shrieking? about making a big deal not to press the door to open for myself and then the Brice character rushing out and throwing her arms around 2 stereotypes approaching as though from across this N Street Way and going in illegible and my now-horrified little self mumbling about monster-world traps.2/11/18, sun, 8:30 p.m., the Holly Golightly staff-character pulling a s***-trick and set of s***-tricks again, as a Sunday night usual “Armageddon Program” s.o.p. ritual scam for starting off my week full of the s***-curses. (Jotting this to try to exorcise all that back off of me!)
2/12, Mon., 9:40a, the system-sneaks are all over me, AMR #3333 going around doing that Only You-siren sound, and one of the hideous stranger-stereotypes asking a set of questions that a Babar-Ainu boy jumped in and answered on the Circulator bus about if? the stop outside is union station when I sit here and get off inside (of) the same station, and then have to check on the bus ticket.
11a, now animal-world has a loud stephanopoulos-kid hitting me, its jacket from behind.
6:30p, like an Armageddon Program parasitism-attack as’m approaching the shelter. (Also a big deal that that electric-eye door had been broken or not working when we woke in the morning.
2/13, Tues., 6:15p, The Armageddon Program morgue-shelter attacked me with that opioid-addict character. it might have to do with that they’re having a beef stew for dinner….
3/9/18, Fri 2:30 p, the point in the selfie was really to check the value of this stylus-pen for its ink; to leave it be is okay., — I’d added a few recollections on the odd visit from the st. Francis inn lady (beth) but they were lost from here for setting the phone down too roughly I think.

4/15/18, midnight, Sunday now

1st the insomnia-torture for over 2 hours and now I see that that was for a horror episode of that fraud-parent”s face all over like attached to me so I can’t stand to be laying in the bed and now a new out-here kind of a scene being put on. They’re not-sending my Messages again so I turn to the email rather than there be not any record of that this set up is going on.4/18, Wed., “jomon” out of control with this ruling from over my head invisibly, all the same patterns. it’s like the 1994-2000 Mission Hotel room torture.

(5/23/18 St. Augustine)

7 p.m., the phony interaction these brain eaters do, the stereotype like Allen Ginsberg suddenly is terrorizing me, the (retarded) globs like hover-lounging while I do my life out here and then inevitably I have to get up to look for some piece of paper and the parasites attack me while I’m preoccupied and not babysit- reading or writing but this is a feces full grown male attacking act of doodoo-crime now and as always i:m all alone with all this “feces.”5/23/18_ Wednesday
The “garbage ‘magic'” is way out of control for me and reality, just swinging on my head just now quit when I noted that, that it helps sometimes to try to make notes, sends them back into their “not doing anything” affect, hiding They have me entrapped to have to walk into the supermarket with some of my typical inane logistics, and the Jomon” type seems to own/ run all the food stores so it’s always in it”s element, just swinging sway on my head to make anything I do seem to be wrong. and they’,re obviously preparing for their long weekend LURE off of me. First them and. the Babar’s “broke” this cellphone twice this morning so that first the alarm didn’t. go off and then I had to worry it might be kept broken, and “feces-level tricks” like that all morning since so far….

(I think this is a repeat, from 5/31/18.)

Something strange and horrible just occurred to me where I haven’t been able to figure out the search-engine’s instructions to get from the downtown bus to the Greyhound station, and going to the local transit center to take another bus for just the few blocks would be like heck for me but I finally recollected that there is a ladies’ room there, a small lifesaver compared to me walk-hunting with the cart, maybe going in the opposite direction, and the invisible warfare tearing the pee-pee out of me but once I thought of the relaxation of unloading that and then looking for the (correct) bus station (the search-engine somehow seeming to have 2 different locations in mind,) the thought occurred to me that compared to the horror of there’s being not any shelter place in Springfield like until I get hospitalized again that it’s a possibility I might could stay at the same shelter in Jacksonville again. They even have other shelters but anywhere I go this “Armageddon Program” follows and ruins for me, and the known difficulty is preferable to what they might come up with somewhere else, probably better not to spread it around. I’d have to re-think some of what I’m doing tonight. For me the difficulty was that the rules kept tightening so that when the cellphone battery ran out I couldn’t recharge it for finding a place to rent and of course I couldn’t rent in Jacksonville because there’re these “fraud-family” from the Bronx mass reproduction “products” all around. Too much controversy is why I can’t mention the name of the shelter, etc., but compared to a repeat of what I’d gone through arriving here in February asking for the shelter-space sounds like a sane idea. I wasn’t going to sleep tonight so I could get the first bus out of here, but the 2nd bus sounds too late in the morning for trying to walk with the cart against the unreal traffic-ways the “magic” does and the 3rd bus is too late in the day by the time I’d reach the shelter…. 2 a.m., noticing an Explore tour-bus business card left in here one day and trying to figure what “meaning” that word might have to the secrecy system and it’s bad of course, one of the standard ploys all these years. As semi-expected I can’t really picture myself leaving in the hour or 2 (it being 2:45 nealy now,) seems semi-suicidal.

Kathy Foshay, homeless unfortunate for library-reading

I’m trying to show that this lady was sabotaged like practice toward this “‘magic’ show” then on me but also that the system had built much of this anthropophagy system we’re in off of doing that to us.

6/10/18, Sunday, Dear CSO,
I can only hope there aren’t anymore difficulties. I don’t have any net under me should anything go wrong and something usually does. I hope someone looked and noticed the things I’m trying to explain especially about the Bronx “French Connection” and then of course the whole Revelation ball of wax, that that’s what I’m writing to you about more than about my own self because I don’t have any connections to Massachusetts, just want to do a little quiet reading at the Young Library and get back out of there PDQ because of this French Connection-Revelation problem-set I’m always stranded alone with. In 2015 I’d then gotten tricked away and (lightly) hit by a car and when I got out of the hospital an insurance company said one of their clients had hit me so I thought I’d use the settlement to go read a lady’s old letters up at Smith, pertaining to this invisible-warfare trick-set problem-set, but the car-hit had been one of those as a hoax on me but I only found that out just before I turned 62 last year so now I’ve an “ssfund” of $626 a month but it was winter then so I went to Florida to wait because I can’t take the cold weather anymore and a similar hoax was played and I was in a hospital 10 days, so that I’m really worried what this “Armageddon Program” off of me might do when I get alone to Springfield and-or Northampton, is why I’m writing FOH and then yourselves. The worst tactic is this sneak underworld atrocity all over me seeks always to “rabble-rouse,” like Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl” poem, that if the system can get people to vote! and complain then there’s the excuse for hurting the complainers and it’s gone in and on with this chameleon-like “show” for decades, is inexplicable by me to strangers but I hope you’d let some quiet, mature boring girl work with me a bit. I have a text and an email out on rooms through the Craigslist and a call to make about one in West Springfield tomorrow, etc Sincerely, Kathy Foshay

Kathy Foshay disappointed not to have heard from you: 6/12/18, Tues. p.m., I left a message to FOH that I should be in Springfield tomorrow and could function for room-renting much better if I could leave my little cart with them while I take buses, but now this Greyhound/Peter Pan is being delayed alot so my timing might be horrible. I found a weekly SRO possibility in West Springfield and will try to locate where those inexpensive motels are there, but this cellphone keeps giving can’t connect messages. I hope the “Program” hasn’t gotten to you all.

6/12/18, Monday night, waiting for the 24-hour trip bus to Massachusetts. The horror-consortium of monsters has been trying to psyche-make me sick for not any real reason but so I’ll take 1 or 2 of those “loratadine” cold-type pills that “blackmail” ritually keep the slug-pneumonia off of me, for nothing but whatever the word’s syllable-value might mean to the hallucinogens st world, or also maybe the brand name, Claritin or Claritan, that the little loratadine also go by. it’s like the “Jomon-type” like the MIOC or Allen Ginsberg think that me being forced from fear of the illness otherwise somehow makes that a LURE-ritual onto my whole visit. They’re really that insane and parasitic, and in conjunction with the other garbsge-boy types crawling all over me to do these “tricks” of magic-power against Kathy Foshay.1 a.m., they’re obviously sneak-doing the LURE here. I can’t do anything about this all-the-time horror more than like when I picked this up some of the acting abated a little. Looking for mentions of Allen Ginsberg calling himself God I saw some mention that he’d prayed that if he got into Columbia in the 1940s he’d try to save the workers. It seems like he’d done his version of that by all these decades of this invisible,-torture to me.
I might as well start trying to describe about the scatology. Offhand I think it was in 1993 on the D train in Brooklyn and like out of nowhere the train’s loud rhythm became to sound like “voices” or one loud one saying the syllables to bow-el move-ment over and over till it couldn’t be ignored and seemed like it was directed at me. The other passengers just seemed to normally be minding their own business but were ahead of me in the car, not any interaction or eye contact over this demonic noise and phrase and in retrospect it did sound like the “Allen” type of voice. There was/is always scatology as this is a toilet and gutter circus -level torture and I’m always thinking or yelling for it to get their filthy selves off of me. At one point they had a character of what I now call “the fraud-parent” and it was a wild fan of the character I’m ostensibly being torture-punished for being jealous of till I began saying bowel movement go away whenever it started to jump on me too, calling it the human bowel movement both for that and the lousy real person that’d led to that sort of a “spirit,” as the cartoon-like characters were alleged to be. I didn’t think much about the New Yorkers who looked like the fraud-parent’s type, looked similarly, when I was there 2002-05, just noticed there seemed to be some relation with orthodox who looked the type of the MIOC portrait figure, and then in 2010 I started seeing them in Washington until I was as inundated by 2014 and then found the Bronx French Connection picture. I can’t back up to insert this in 2005-06 but when I’d pinned down the system problem to the prehistoric time’s Autism-psychopathy and noticed the serotonin connection and that serotonin but not necessarily organic Autism was what had probably made the fraud-parent seem peculiarly distant, I’d sent a June ,”F’s day card” that broached the subject lightly; I’ll try to stick a recreation of it here. After there wasn’t any response to my inquiries about the FC photo the letters dwindled as I’ve been more and more inundated by the whole “Bathgate Avenue Market” fraud-family bio-descendants and they’ve been scaring me with having the fraud-parent ones all over me and this my blog, the “filthy Jomon’s” idea as they have some sort of a working relation like Dr. Frankenstein and Igor/Igor, really. So (a) I’m afraid the Armageddon Program will have me having to sit next to one on this bus trip and ,(b) there might be some similar terrorism this 3rd Sunday in June. The point about the scatology is that every time I see one I blurt the phrase bowel movement. Alot of these mass-reproduced products seem to have been made from ovae somehow gotten from me and fertilized from the fraud-parent and the whole thing is ill, barely describable torture to see these underworld monsters all over the place and it’s gotten real bad from this time in Jacksonville. I finally realized that I could have taken the bus from St. Augustine, I could have paid in cash for the full trip from there, thinking there were all these “E-ticket” rules that meant I’d have to go to the Jacksonville office.
Tuesday night, bus hasn’t shown up in Richmond, VA depot


I’m stranded in a Springfield, Mass., hospital now, the same syndromes as in St. Augustine so I’d seen no option and scurried into an emergency room, on the 18th. Now I’m trying to contact the VA, as though they’re going to rescue me.

Already they sent word they’re coming to get me! Since I don’t ever have good luck I’m suspicious of everything but it’s on 105 acres so I can only hope it won’t interfere with the library research attempt.

… Obviously I’m not going anywhere to day now. It’s like a sitcom only it isn’t funny.

It’s BayState Medical Center I’m in and they’re scaring up some drama off of me about the killer respiratory “box masks” you might not wake up from./It’s BayState Medical Center and they’re doing a drama scene on me now, that I’ll be left with one of the killer respiratory masks on overnight instead of just for a little while like would seem reasonable, a “Shahan” walking around like a nemesis-villian.

I really thought they were going to kill me the 1st time I got shanghaied for this phony low-oxygen, and I don’t even recall which hospital it was, have been about 5 of them.

They’re really still going on about this obscene respiratory box mask. The “catch” is that the patient-victim doesn’t know how to get it off your face, it’s a suffocating device if there isn’t proper supervision around and not only isn’t there but then I was lied to that there is despite another scene obviously to the contrary, trying to get help for the neighbor here and it took 10 minutes, etc.

I’d tried getting in synch with the box mask earlier and thought I was doing okay but they were talking 13 hours on it so I’ve been afraid to go to sleep and am getting harassed about that now. i’ve never believed there’s anything wrong with my breathing, it’s being pulled from the underground for God doesn’t know what brain-eaters’ purposes but you can’t discuss these “secret” Armageddon things, and hence the Shahan waltzing around. I think I recall This. J. Shahan, 1857-1932 was born in Auburn, Mass., then was in Hartford before going to CUA and “making” the Basilica there, and it seems a nearly straight line from the Ghent Altarpiece to Conques, then the Borgias and over to. the New World here, with Aleister Crowley 666 as some sort of a close bio-relative. Then I’d noticed also the founder of the Shriners. Along with the Ghent Altarpiece’s black-bearded leader they seem to have set up this inane Autist-boys’ petroleum-run global system, with the brain-eating, disembodied ovaries, phony religions, etc.

I woke up around 4:30 a.m. with a girl aide that looks like G. Stephanopoulos kneeling by this bedside smiling and saying she was trying to fix something. He was also born in Mass. I’d guess he’s one of the hybrids from Shahan but think he goes back to the Ninigret days, him and John– famous name, slips my mind, Whiston, Win– I’ll have to send this without yet the correct name. (Winthrop)

The Georgiana sight reminded me of “The Boys From Brazil” as my 1st thought for the day. She diddled around and slipped away wearing some dark blue aide uniform it looked like but I didn’t see her again after that. One of the Allen Ginsberg-types wrote that boys from Brazil, about lots of mass-reproduced little Hitlers; IRA Levin I think. Maybe they mostly somehow came from K. Tsiolkovsky. Chaim Potok was another, with “The Chosen,” 1967, which taught me everything I’d known about Judaism, believing they were the expert translator-interpretors for God, poor God, and thence proceeded to teach the rest of the people but I had everything backwards all these years, Judeo-Christian hole of gullibility in the head.

Lousy day. I can only hope they quit making excuses why I can’t take a shower this evening now. it’s like one unprovable “Armageddon Program” bit after another and somehow my flip-flop showershoes are lost, no shoes for being able to walk out of here in. For once I have a little money in my wallet and maybe they sell something downstairs. There was a horrible time trying to find a room to rent on the 16th and I don’t know if I might have compromized my bank account until I could get out to check on it, too. I can’t describe a lot of the game-tricks because of the same old same old being stranded within them. I have to try to get some towels next.

The dear little Pill-grim lad and “St. Christopher.”

Ghent Altarpiece’s Pilgrims

6/26/18, Tues. noon. waiting for Cheryl from Discharge-coordinating.It’s been a lot of confusion that I haven’t been able to make notes on. The “Armageddon” off of me was real real bad as this pattern of becoming increasingly ill continued like in St. Augustine till there wasn’t anything I could do but let them take me to their Henry) Flagler Hospital. Here though there was some bizarre additional strange problem, to do with the whole Armageddon-dynasty fraud-family science horror fiction in real life problem. The fraud-family probably mostly comes from a different branch than I was in but I only know my own business, not what other people do. In that other branch the 2 adults seem to have been pro-system and they had 4 kids, the oldest a boy that seems “classic Autist” and is said to have passed back 30+ years ago, then his blonde sister and 2 black-haired sisters. The 6 people’s genes might be in people all over the place as part of the Bathgate Avenue Market, Bronx, history behind and under how we got here to where I’m saying will wind us up in TPE, TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION, those masse reproduces all being products owned anonymously. I didn’t know if it was coincidence or scripted that one seemed to be the desk. clerk at a motel I finally found but then I got this I’ll there, paying $80 for the 1st night but then too sick and paid again but could only lay in bed sick, no rest, and barely could make it out by 11 then Sunday morning. I couldn’t find a room and waited for morning and was finally able to get a cab to bring me to this E.R. door on Monday but then all kinds of weirdness must have ensued on top of that “out of it” state I’d been in. Blood went all over and then it was like some hallucination that staff was scene-paint preparing the old Bowery Mars Bar into the hospital room, Allen Ginsberg Inc. paying off the people and it was some kind of hell-like while I was still sick in bed like in the motel, unable to do anything or see much of anything, like a goon-circus where I kept replying that I think I’m in Baywatch Hospitalwatch or some such (Baystate Medical Center.)
I guess it was a “copy” or bio-descendant product of the blonde fraud-relative, fraud-cousin, that was somehow the motel desk-clerk. In real life I think they all had come from ovae of Brigitte Bardot, then fertilized by her male parent, Louis. His male-parent’s name was Charles, seems like a classic Autist, and was a gas manufacturer. The system-boys were combining weird ways of making money, mass-reproducing females for themselves, and setting up this “anthropophagy-system,” which is largely a front for getting high off the brains, after they’d grubbed earth’s normal plants to get high off of to extinction. Now I’ve got these Ginsberg-et als. using these “Brigitte’s” to I can’t play guessing games what extent as this “Armageddon” off of living off of behind my back way of “running” poor earth.
For the 1st time I did just have someone say I could leave here if I wanted, only — maybe the sleep clinic ladies tonight could locate a pair of slippers I could get to a store by. I can”t find a place to stay, for real. I’d really have to check my bank balance before feeling positive there’s no difficulty. Once or twice people told me the local shelter shelters anyone that shows up but I’d called this one from the bus station in Virginia and she called back and said not to leave Florida and don’t go to the shelter. That worries me that the anonymous “Ginsbergs” go around behind my back telling people they’re not allowed to help me. All these years I deliver nearly a letter every day trying to explain this Autism-Armageddon and have had basically no human contact in reply and it seems that that’s why I still can’t find a place to stay while I run see what this library merely has on Sabin, these goon-parasites just watch and sabotage anything I try to do. There’s not any reason — the brain-drug/serotonin abusers have this “Limitless” belief that they’re superior to other people. I haven’t been able to do a single thing I’ve wanted to do with my time of my life since the finally getting to Florida, etc., have to take a break on this right now.

Arformoterol (tartrate) always it looks to be Are for Motor Oil, that that’s the generic name of most of the respiratory “meds.”

Florence Sabin had been an early cell-studier. I think we should step back and redirect from where the system took her work and twisted it to their (“Armageddon”) off-base purposes, of world-takeover while getting all the blondes for themselves, etc.

Important to this about the “Brigitte” fraud-cousin’s descendants in this underworld Armageddon business is that once as kids she’d knocked the air out of me and now seems to have been being increasingly used for that by the anonymous “Ginsberg” parasites. There was one of her “line” at the Kensington, MD shelter till just before the car-hit, and alot of them in Jacksonville. I guess she and her brother were like john tranvolta and Olivia newton john doing the Grease songs and dances. What I mean about not being able to do anything I want is that nothing’s been done for the real life Universe real life rescue attempt, the only thing the invisible warfare parasites let me manage to get done is just my own grocery shopping because somehow it’s some regular part of this horror all over me, a regular pattern that all the store refrigerators start getting loud all the time all these 25 years of this horror-garbage. I just recalled to mention that this “possession by Ginsberg/s” has been using the fraud-cousin product to deflate me both figuratively and now this becoming I’ll at the motel. Lots of all kinds of details to anymore of this but this us a strange long hospital stay and I’m only trying to quick-visit a library and that’s for real-real life purposes where everything seems, more or less, phonied-up anymore, useless and parasitic….

I’m just waiting to find out where I wind up in getting out of this peculiar latest hospital situation, just doing a few odds and ends and waiting to get to what I’d come to Massachusetts for.

It is becoming overlong a process considering my “Armageddon”-LURE-gimmick abuse of all these years’ status to so so recently, as though something normal is actually going to happen…. They have me waiting here in the Spri gfield hospital for what’s said to be the VA’s paying for a 2-week respite stay at any one of around 12 or 15 places in the general area, one in Greenfield’s being said to have accepted me, but I’m not seeing any impetus to actually materialize this Plan for me and therefore am trying to think-up something toward real life into this, with my goal of merely getting to the Smith library on a M-F in mind above all, because my guess is that The System got where it is now based on sneak-abusing Florence Sabin in all the same patterns that were/are used onto 1955-born me, my thesis being that said global-system is headed for TPE…– one hour they have an ambulance taking me to Greenfield, north of, the other side of, Smith. I’d been trying to phrase but politer that said system’s really a swirl of crap.Odd with all this experience is that someone had figured a breakfast menu for me, of eggs, French toast and oatmeal, plus fruit and an orange juice, and coffee.
There’s a Monday-Friday bus from Greenfield to Smith/Northampton that I should be using, that I hope that that works out but right now it’s just getting to the fresh air, then figuring for some footwear and a pair of scissors I could use, noticing the other day how I could reduce the amount of paper I’m carrying if I had a pair, that that’d give me anything useful I could get started with. There’s, as with nearly anything, some teensy paranoiac possibility aspect in that there’s some teensy-seeming connection to the fraud-cousine, and that could connect to Melville and the Transcendentalists in Pittsfield west of here, that petroleum-Plastics came from.. and I’m saying that then the Space-race showed the system-people’s beliefs to be unconnected to reality, etc., as we’re then in this “swirl” to put it politely, of crap and garbage, etc.

7/1, blessedly I’m able to get a little time on here for trying to straighten out some of this, and with it comes this whole business of the “oxygen” scam of some big sort that this is.

7/2, trying to send a cellphone-file but only the first half’d come through:

Posted on by

2nd try.

On Mon, Jul 2, 2018, 12:59 PM kathleen foshay <pixisafe> wrote:

So far so horror. It’s a more of the same sneak-Armageddon off of me paradigm experience. I’m alone “like Helen Keller” and being forced to try to figure this bizarre “oxygen” scam before the bums-system finishes me off by it, bothering me with this trick scam since 2014 when it’s really only underground “magic” —- mention the phlogiston b.s. —-Interruption that affirms this same subject, that the system’s pursuing this scam. It’s likely similar to the beliefs about “phlogiston” around the time of that “French Rev.” by the said and same brain-eaters.
Speaking of which, it’s really scary what I might be bringing to this place here, as when this staff-girl showed up here I was then fiddling with a tissue for a runny nose new difficulty and she’d been sent to do this thing with taking the oxygen-reading from the little finger machine, and I was uncharacteristically playing back and forth with the soiled tissue, which is a longtime standard Armageddon trick. Now the oxygen-machine is being used for making bizarre noises for Armageddon Program sound effects. I got the girl to show me a place to sit outside and I realized I couldn’t smell the beautiful air through this nasal canula and then that this scam includes that a person always has this garbage on their face, this plastic plugging the nose, it’s sarcasm from the Autists.
Then the girl said there’s 1 computer available for use so of course I’m antsy then to try that. She had all background questions for me, this being a nursing home, and I told her I keep a blog that everything’s on but she only uhhuhed, didn’t ask the URL.
10 p.m., everything’s always more than I can explain, the girl like a reprise of one of the characters in the Kensington, MD part of this, which looks like it was that the Armageddon had been done so I was being gotten rid of largely but the parasites keep finding LURE ways, as with this business, and I don’t know how blind me can prove this “magic”-made torture cage, that that’s what really causes the illness symptoms, they keep the oxygen or air circulation low all the time on purpose, there’s no real reason for any of this except they’re sadistic “headhunters,” drug addicts for brain. They had this girl trained like the similar in Maryland and I noticed one of the “Patel-type of Babar” guys, like underground invisible warfare guerilla type of Armageddon Program regular all these decades.
I think there was a scene for me to notice the resemblance to one of the fraud-famly that references pornography.
Check George Ripley was from here, that the “Tsiolkovsky” Ginsberg-type looks might come from him.
July 1, really bad computer harassment, with the affect of the Patel-Babar and no guessing what all the “crap” to me is for except the longtime usual global-system’s gimmick to advancement. I’m not sure how I can make positive use of the 11 more days.

Now that could be continued in the italics. I don’t know if I’ll try to “Forward” the longer version, preferring whatever I’ve got to try to be kept together rather than in different places. This isn’t going too well because everything’s based on the secret underground and its ways so nothing normal’s going to come out of it. I’m supposed to be making the most of this therapy-chance when the problem itself is an underground-done phony “magic” trick, like in that “Bell Jar” and menorah-cage below, we’re human specimens kept caged like that by the underworld brain-damaged brain-eating brain-invaders and I’m being b.s.’d that my oxygen level goes down dramatically if I walk around, when it’s really that the underground bell jar-style removes the oxygen to cause the problem toward getting me out of the population, etc., etc. for things I don’t want to rehash, want to fix that French Connection and the other messy files and see about trying to re-send the little more I’ve mentioned on this oxygen business.

7/3/18, Tues.

Yesterday they’d had a lab worker swoop in on me at 6 a.m. and take 2 vials of blood and today there was a different person saying she was also from the lab at Mercy hospital which I guess is the one in Springfield? but today the vial didn’t fill and I complained about the pain and she discontinued, said she’d tell the nurse, and then maybe she’d done a ritual of, as, laying all over me to reach to turn the light back out, me then noticing that she might be one of the stereotype types. There’s also a huge terroristic problem over that some or another pile of crap has a sign saying Universe Rescue uses/has those “cookies,” and some similar creepy things that seem to point to this dynasty-like Bronx reproductive parts fraud-family, that the system seems to have had a black offspring,-descendant of a fraud-uncle longtime at the shelter in Washington, the one working with Michael K. Deaver, and then white versions or bio,-disseminations of that one have been lurking around here and the Springfield hospital, and that might be connected to this “cookies” crime, a creepy feeling like that with this sneaky, unprovable crap the bums do around me all the time and, as in Kensington, there might be others of this fraud-family product line or what they are around me here, one of them just telling something humorous about cookies that made me consider if it’s part of their “magic” entertainment off of me or what. — Now another “trick.”

It’s “here,” not “her” down there but they’re freezing the terminal again

16 July, 2018, Greenfield

PA Ave. & 7th, SE, Wash. DC

… besides the obvious brain-eating references of getting “tabs” of LSD, also looks like how the computer-virus I’d gotten sabotaged with in 1992 had started out looking as it “ate” letter after letter off of each of the pages on the infected disk, maybe three of them only to offhand recollection but the system had used that virus-start to claim that I’d spread virus to anyone and everyone, that they’d likely used me as a cover-front-excuse for wiping out the really good and inexpensive “Shareware” -type programmers and anyone else that wasn’t in their “book of life.” The missing letters kept going till the pages were blank I guess, unable to sit and play with virused-materials to be able to swear that every single last letter was gone off of each page. Then the last couple of days had been this “lines” them and I’d noticed that in the 2nd picture and had sent that too but lost it just now so threw in the larger-view of the street there and will get back to here likely tomorrow to try to pull some of this back together but I have this rest home-meeting on the Care Plan for me to go to so I want to try to prepare something for that tonight and can’t stay here now that this terminal is back working again. My cellphone is still trying to re-charge, the cord had broken and then other odds and ends. There are 2 or 3 “big” things I’m anxious to jot down about but 2 of them are the slander/libel sorts of things that the persons mentioned might take umbrage about and I don’t have enough time to look into them on the search-engine before blabbing, trying to. The other thing I can’t even recall right now. The 1st thing, God help he and nobody takes umbrage at this is that they have a book of “Pope Francis,” his essential sayings, 2014 by a lady named Kelly-Gangi I think, the book being in the room and while reading it I started thinking if he doesn’t look some like the Autism-expert Dr. “Leo” Kanner, and I just looked a little bit and maybe he does, and I’d previously mentioned that I’m trying to get to sit down and compare his photos to those of Florence Sabin, 1871-1953, the doctor-lady I’m here in Massachusetts trying to get to look over her papers in the library near here but I’m not there yet. I think it’s a possibility that the system might have “made” say, an Autism-expert for a pope for the planet now except that I disagree with about everything maybe that Dr. Kanner had had to say about anything American, that it’s make-believe on the system’s part to claim that normal aren’t and the Autists are normal, but then you have the influence of Dr. Sabin in the mix there too and that’s the part of the pope that seems most best about himself to many of us marginalized people, the normals, — so that libel/slander me could move along to the even worse typing than that one, — now I recall the 3rd thing I’ll try to clean this up tomorrow, run-together thoughts because of the time limit here, (about “Dr.” Phelps without the name of course,) about the company called SpaceX. It seems sort of dangerous to mention any of these young approved of system-people, that they maybe can cause curses just by thinking them, like it seems that that fraud-parent even can do. — Speaking of that “French” Connection that ended in the Bronx in 1962, then we’d moved to the north Bronx, near the new-built Cardinal Spellman H.S., and I was trick-plagued for years by a crush on a kid that I guess was mostly an “undergrounder” somehow or another, and am wondering that this company doesn’t actually come from “seed” of that boy in the Bronx on an ova of a girl he’d sat next to or maybe one of mine however those things have been being purloined, the founder being born in 1971, in a different country but that doesn’t make any difference to this global-system. Had to mention that and will go get ready for tomorrow now and hope to be able to look into this astro-company more, learning of it only because when I’d similarly been hospitalized in Florida for this phony oxygen-illness they given newspapers and I’d read about the nearby Cape Canaveral Falcon (9) launching and just before the computer went out here 2 days ago I’d finally gotten a chance to try to find out who was sending the rockets and when I did he seemed familiar-looking, and the boy in the Bronx had done an 8-year old’s level con job on me about extraterrestrial intelligent life likely on Mars, then inviting me to a party, etc., but there wasn’t time to get permission, and altogether it was like a new-built set up neighborhood sabotage area for me. I’ll send that little picture of it tomorrow….

N. Bronx area I’d lived in from 1963-1973. The late Massoud and his photo-owning friend there, Masood look like significant friends.


Dr. Kanner went to S. Dakota in 1924,…

…to Yanktown’s asylum on Missouri R.


7/25/18, Wednesday II

III- I forgot to add that that 6’+ “kid” had walked up from behind to do that trick, which the Marcus one had also just seemed to do, of using a tablet computer as though whisked down my skull from behind, that unprovable trick because it’s largely in conjunction with an underground partner that really makes the feeling to the other’s hallucino-thinking doing that whisking.

7/25/28m Now I turned this on to finally try to get one of the 2 little bits from the Kelly-gangi selection of quote from the pope but it’s copyrighted by fall river press plus I’ve got the “Marcus Samuel” influence all over me and I’d opened the door, where it’s being closed is a “sign” to stay out probably. Then, I’ll keep testing out this thing to see how it goes. These people maybe are watching that the song of music film on the tv. You can’t call up these drafts and add to them it seems, only to publish them when you go to save.


I can’t ask for assistance because that’s been the Armageddon all these years, that whoever’s holding me “magic” prisoner then intercepts anyone tricked into trying to volunteer assistance. They’ve got me doing “oxygen” therapy in a nursing home for 2 weeks now, 10 more days, and then I’m supposed to be allowed to proceed with my attempt to look over boring Florence Sabin’s old letters and see if there’s a way I can explain, providing I find enough evidence which I’m sure there is, that before this lifetime of the sabotage to me her lifetime had been practice toward this, all the same tricks, the “magic” and skewed-thinking psychology used on her was practice toward all these horrors to me, the point being that the “magicians” should have left her and other people to their own business. Now the “magicians” are all covering up the dinosaur extinctions that led to the lack of food on earth that led to the “anthropophagy” and they’re doing that because they’ve become serotonin addicts and “czars” selling it. I think old George Peabody might have been involved in the beginning of the covering up about that the dinosaurs must have died because someone had broken their baby eggs methodically, that there was a people over her that had done that, everything got swept under a rug. I’ll go check-see if I can find anything on Peabody. — I couldn’t, only that his son-in-law was the well-known naturalist OC Marsh, from Lockport, NY, but Marsh is largely mostly known for the obsessive feud with that naturalist named Cope.

(before thursday 7/26/18, in greenfield, ma.)

Rowan Isaacson, “the Horse Boy” in profile looks like the old “Wild Boy of Aveyron,” named Victor by that Dr. Izard as far as I can recall his name, the movie by Truffaut I think, offhand recollection. Then his male parent is from South Africa which is something of a theme now from a volunteer here that looks like nutritionist Maye Musk. I wasn’t able to compare birthdates, that maybe they’re bio-sisters. The “computer-ghosts” are acting up so terribly that it’d wind up horrible to try to work on any of the posts for fear of wrecking them. I might try pasting images into here because I can’t just not do anything. Actually I’m trying to find an image of rowan, that I did see one — bear in mind that I’d tried to read on anything connected to the autism while I had this or these “magician” blobs staring through my skull and they know about everything I’d tried to study and I guess they use that to see what to do where in this case of Victor the Wild Boy they came up with this bring the kid to Mongolia and horses and he’ll grow out of the autism and into world leadership concept. That’s what came up when they froze this terminal and I couldn’t call up anything so just sitting here and looking through my notes I thought maybe they wouldn’t mind if I read about the Horse Boy a little more and they let that come up but when I asked for images of rowan then they started freezing all the horse boy attempts so I came back to this and noticed a typo in the footer and went to correct it and I don’t know what they did with that but it looked like the whole text-piece might not be there anymore so I don’t want to play with them and thought I’d just mention not to forget whenever I can get back to a terminal to try to check on this correlation between rowan and victor. Conques is in the Aveyron, where the “base-Autist” had been, that St/e. Foy.

Images of rupert and rowan isaacson

Image result for rupert and rowan isaacsonImage result for rupert and rowan isaacsonImage result for rupert and rowan isaacson

See more images of rupert and rowan isaacson
–Now the baby still in diapers toddler looks alot like early Rowan and maybe the boy in Adoration also. Etc., like a The Boys From Brazil on purpose. I don’t think it’s possible to get usable photos except the long process of writing to the different places and I can’t even offer the URL for this blog in exchange to any of these people I’d like to use some example text or illustration from. I don’t have any idea what this is about copyright on films. Their “Jomon” helpers just have the whole system made for them. Like Dagobert on the horse in that Rubens painting except I don’t think the boy on the horse is on the finished product, Rubens doing a triptych and then a single panel painting I think is how it went, that the big one was the practice and the single panel the finished product, one in England and one in the Netherlands or Belgium. I think I have to close this to take a break for some “peculiar” reason and then I can’t just continue it when I get back, would have to start a new one.

7/26/18, thursday – greenfield

my last day here and I can’t play around with the “ghosts in the machine” so I’d thought to try to do the scrap-notes or jotto-notes for recollection if/when I get back to a regular terminal again after if I’m lucky being able to use the cellphone for sending things to here again.
rufus cole seems to have one of more bio-descendants here as w one’s being married to that galactic astronomer out in santa cruz that I think had (also, like me,) “come from” ovae of Florence sabin.
the horse boy, — check conan the barbarian’s looks for the parent
Crowley’s city of god and confessions, ck st. Augustine’s titles, Anastasia sounds like honest-asia, as opposed to us westerners, etc., and the looks of that guy that’d helped the horse boy film, that he looks like elon, and elon’s mother’s lookalike is due here in a few minutes, that there are like wall to wall stereotypes ici. (ck Michel orion scott)
(tt the planet had been wrecked by the Autists before their complaints about how bad everything is, no telling what they’d done everywhere already.)
ainu to porn everywhere= the jomons and little unchanged today
hanuman to mies didn’t work out, the photos seem different from the earlier ones, but the hanuman in these I see now likely is the johns Hopkins type, the reason I’m trying to visit Baltimore is to become more familiar with his type because they’re probably an enormous part of the global population anymore
ck santo domingo dom rep, 1495 est., the oldest, etcl., Philip II sent armada to war w England and got it derstroyed, renaissance=1400-1600, spain ruled brazil from 1580-1640.
for the Mendelsohn poem, why this architecture, ck her from berlin to Jerusalem paper, alona nitzan-shiftan, 19881993, Israel inst of tech, mit libraries,

This had seemed humorous when the resthome terminal had kept going down because I don’t have any friends or trustworthy people around me ever, only LURE-workers and their potential “pigeons” they use me as a gimmick for getting:

7/26/18, Thursday, midnight

The invisible-warfare is really out of control, all negative, all undescribable* (sic) because of the all by myself situation. The Armageddon seems to be making believe there’s some light-hearted humor about their continuous sneak-torture of my every moment. I can’t guess how any of these horrors are possible and it’s always the same and me just having a list of things I have to do despite whatever invisible strangers are doing to make my life impossible, one just making a little chuckling comment to creep me out that I’m still at the computer. I’m supposed to leave and get to Northampton tomorrow and the “Program” is tearing me apart. *(because of the decapitation theme, etc.)

8/2/18, Thurs, 8 am, Baltimore bus station w all the Armageddon,-making program slathered all over me unlivably. same rote xyeses, a George stephanopoulos walking around and sneaking “looking over” my head, then I noticed it has on a jacket tt says in big letters tt no one cares and no one knows, whatever ritual purposes that’s serving, then a girl without food as i’m abt to eat, etcI can’t get a bus, tt it’s obviously the public transportation expert/owner Vulcan or Jew’s manipulation, and now a trick of sending one or 2 painted like a peter pan bus, so that I missed it, while they had a carib female here to block my way while’ve been waiting for the 73 for an unconscionably long time and so would have gotten onto the 26 if this act/curse/prop, performer wasn’t blocking me.
all the gutter-toilet circus ususal, the things screaming the 25 years into my head all the time as though the torture is people that haven’t learned at least that much. They sent a Tawana to block the bus map
8/2, sat 2018 noon
1- tt garbage truck huge noise
2- a sol neustadt type at this u of Baltimore
Bocek on east Madison mural, on linwood
8/4/18 sat 750pm
Baltimore fire amb #26
mica 1826, n Lafayette and w. lanvalle, Bolton hill historic district, Jesse lazeae MD 1866-1900 JH researcher in cuba yellow fever
(same row houses as Linwood st)
1307 park f Scott Fitzgerald 1895-1940
brown memorial park ave presbyterian, 1320 park
Florence= dbl ck address now
(Her statue stands in the us capitol,)
Maryland institute college of art
ck Gatsby and Wolfe meyerhoff /Arnold rothstein
Aug 5, sun, 2 am, the swine keep terrorizing me w stormville,-faces and hindu-babar-bum tricks to the cellphone
5am, feces molesting me awake
8/5 Sunday to 8/6 monday, w dawn’s# and 1848 east Purdue place

{{8/6/18, Monday,ck vigee against Samuel and ei DuPont dates
730 am, lots of the sneaky terror as I’m thinking to ask VA for a ltl o2 therapy, 1st an ambulance”s engine was run for about 1/2 an hour to n this side street I’d had to walk up

ck harry and Jeanette Weinberg’s
130 pm, greyhound station employee w a badge, lance, is yakking and holding the door open so each person has to walk between the 2 of them yakking, and then there are Hindus and one of the fraude-,cousins and lits of sex show ideas of reference like thought up by the Jew and this Hindu theme all over me.(rituals and other horrifying tricks around the ticket- buying process)
8/9, noon, 2018, all set ups — insane toilet- focus and w the recharge be. real bad “dark” atmosphere. nonstop spanish, civic center, the Jew-sikh stts DG the Allen Ginsberg animal-yelling into the r side of my head, riot-affect}}

2 pm
horrible door-curse, the greyhound sttn all rigged for the parasiting off of anything I do, Hindus and stormville and one/once I slipped in w an inadvertent scene — There was a Babar that had done the first trick here, etc., – once I got in the 2 door-lions fell apart and everyone’s holding their own door for their own selves but they did the horrible trick off of me who despises these entry tricks and that ruined this whole ticket-attempt by this jew-sikh w IRS face all in the back of my head now and using my paper like in self defense.
Yesterday there’d been 2 living on me parasites preparation tricks by Babar’s also. they want to kill whoever they’ve got underground and get me upset this same way in order to blame the massacres on me.
– Sikh mumbled to excuse him when there wasn’t anybody. else around but me r then.
now bug thunder as a peach/salmon turbaned Sikh walks in wheeling a baby stroller, wife-character alongside. as usual all these Armageddon program acts are going to get to where they,’re going way earlier than me, always having to wait because of the act. except for the Sikhs they’d done these same sort of acts at the Burger king last night because I’d had to buy anything in order to ask for the toilet use.
8/6,/Mon 3pm, before the Sikhs walked in I’d (illegible) that to change the Jew/s to jew-sikhs in typing as they’re the same thing in my mind but nobody knows that.
1 day, 12-1/2 hours; she doesn’t know the time to Pittsburgh
Indianapolis, Lucas oil stadium

8/25/18, (as?) midnight

testing pnly ignore inflammatoriness etc the filthy ‘Jomon” like Allen Ginsberg-face molesting me awake for underground Armageddon the same as all those “CC” years in wash ngton, me all by n self and surrounded by the brain-eaters and it ts phony psychiatric network for the self s, their evil selves, best ng Sadie entertained by me trying to type this for instance. get off of my private parts you sick Autist-bums, etc bc these twist anything I say to excuses for killing the normal people, all these decades: get off of Mr Ginsberg Jomon, etc, monsters. then lack of sleep goes to anger abt this LURE these swine are undoubtedly perpetrating underneath me and the weekend, to generally a “big-kill” off of my anger at this when similarly molested awake on Sunday n dnightisj (illeg.) , all unprovable invisible crime and disgustingness.

9/14/18, Friday pm, 9/16, Sunday, sneak-admittance Houston VA– I’ll have to straighten out and put this in its regular order soon.

I’m real upset tt the electricity isn’t workg on this last bus to Houston, leaving me prisoner to these I-wish-they-were-all-dead parasites with their Armageddon garbage-toilet Program noises crawling all over me through the bus’s ventilation system and whatever, The driver is a trick-playing “Thunderville” -type stereotype that I guess is “playing” with the Ginsberg-ttype “devil” parasite all over me and my life. I wish all the parasites were … d***.9/16, 4:30am, they admitted without asking or consulting me to this Houston VA when I went to exchange the tanks and fell asleep in their E.R., poor little scared me in this strange room and place, but I have to fall back to sleep. I was doing okay till an orderly was wheeling me past this nurse’s station and a girl that might have been made from ovae stolen from me said a script-line of calling me this “Miss” Foshay that the Armageddon Program -types have always been saying my name as, where the “miss” seems ritual for not catching all those monsters that perform the horror behind my back, pretend to be related to and able to. “speak for,” to blab all what the “Program” wants for, me. When I heard the girl call me that and then was wheeled into this isolated room with some obnoxious little nurse in charge I started getting upset, and now I have to try to sleep till it’s light out.
9/17, Monday
recalled some other detail, but the next day they insisted I get moved to this fancy room and now I just got nervous about this “Albuterol” name again, noting a pattern to gladly giving it to me by the nebulizer when I get to a new hospital but all of them cut it off and refuse to give the nebulizer treatments and say that that’s because they want you on what you’ll be using when you’re discharged.


Subject: I’ll have to try Denver (August 5 2018)

Biographical notes:

Denver, Colo. author, biographer. B. Elinor Hensley July 7, 1894 Kincaid, Kan. Moved to Denver 1905 with parents. Married Dr. Charles S. Bluemel 1921; co-owner with him of Mount Airy Hospital, Denver 1927-1953. D. Mar. 15, 1975 Denver. Among her books are biographies of Emily Griffith and Florence Sabin.

From the description of Papers, 1903-1974. (Denver Public Library). WorldCat record id: 13195059

7 August, 2018

1– My explanation of the library papers in Denver somehow got cut off from the last messages transmission. 2- I couldn’t find a copy of the “Limitless” book about the super-brain drug that’s actually the serotonin that this global-system is actually based on, bringing the Earth to ruin, TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION eventually. 3- Now the system has gone “viral” with all this invisible torture of me, way too much for me to be able to describe, exhausted and on a bus for Denver and they seem to demand I get hospitalized whenever I visit anywhere, horror. I’m nervous they’re using me to pull off a “3rd Sikh War” in their unprovable underworld, off of me as their gimmick modus operandi.

8 August, 2018

I can”t figure a way to get the little explanation for going to Denver copied and re-sent. The system is sneak- thrashing and bashing and doing the rituals and sneak-tricks for the sneak-rituals all over little me. I noticed a big Lucas oil stadium in Indianapolis. Now in St. Louis the unprovable underground underworld is just demolishing me for the various global-system profits by outwitting Kathy foshay left and right.

11 August, 2018 (11:40 pm?)

My explanations don’t seem to be making it through. I’ll try to look into getting onto a regular terminal tomorrow. The Armageddon “Program” bums like the “Vulcan of Public Transportation” are doing a power show over me by giving orders directions to the drivers and others anywhere near me usual sneak-terrorism. I thought they’d let the bus arrive if I started trying to take notes, that I’d have to quit. They’re just thrash-and-bash manipulating my tiny life in the midst of this stranger-town for standard “Armageddon” against the normal people purposes. bus-

Denver/Aurora hospital

8/13/18, Mon., I terms and conditions agreed not to transmit but thought I should open up anything for if there are notes.St. Louis, MO, Wednesday 8 August 6pm to Denver Thursday, 10 am 9 August.
8/15, I’m looking at UR (UniverseRescue…) while waiting to go for a ct-scan and I hit the “Older Posts” button and it simply disappeared, the button did, rather than the page-can’t,-be-displayed page. Every time I try to use the cellphone there are oddities like that. It doesn’t look like the social work here is going to do anything for me after all, my hopes way up because it’d seemed simple and confident, sic, at first, like just very uncomplicated. creepy, some creepy invisible unprovable s*** tricks seem to — get off of me you retarded animals is all such gooniness can come down to, they don’t exist and seem happy just “playing” invisibly onto people — etc., etc. Maybe there are games — interruption for vital signs. I was trying to describe some of the weird unprovable “crap” like how difficult it was for me to get transit directions to here and then when I did all the options included making at least one transfer, from the 15L to the 15 bus but when I got here it was a stop for both those buses anyway, the transfer hadn’t been necessary at all, and then the driver said that the “Colfax Station” right near the big and lit up VA building front wasn’t the correct stop for me, panicking as the building was getting further away and when I walked the way she directed I had to walk the length of this Children’s Hospital of Colorado with all paintings alongside where I was, like big 3×3 or so canvas panels or sheets as though each was done by a different child or team of them, typical outdoor type sun and flowers nature pictures, happy children (propaganda.) Similarlt — can’t see the typing — simehow anymire. place parky
I’d woken that morning by one if those types’ looking invisibly at my head., a little Babar girl, just looking, maybe a little smile. I think I’d mumbled to get off of me and stayed asleep, and then I got kicked out if th–

8/15/18, wed., I don’t know what happened to that last file, a new phenomenon where the screen I’m typing onto quits raising so that the new letters aren’t visible and I lost a little follow-up about seeing a “vision” of a little Babar girl looking at my head while I was trying to sleep late on Sunday, which had then led to me getting kicked/thrown out of that private hostel. My point is that it’s odd to be at a place that seems to care about the little kids and I’m unable to do anything about the Autism of the adults that causes the problem-set of all the unnaturalness. As with the little “games” like sabotaging the cellphone and all whatever, with my health and lack of a shelter situation, I get the impression that there’s an Autists’ underworld that seems content, that they hold most of the cards and that keeps them happy and this potential opportunity for opening up the subjects is just going to be ignored. Unbelievably the air quality here is bad. Referring to Denver as being “Hoistville” was what I’d — there goes the typing, the screen not raising anymiee. Also a mention that there are ratoies on people “like water.” (anymore, tattooes)

8/16, Thurs, for not any reason the swine turned on the molestation torture, devil Jew tricks all day it seems and now this always makes me wish the perpetrators would die to pay for the gratuitous crime, s.o.s***.8/17/18, Friday, everything is bad the jew-sikh all over me possibly because there’s a typical trick w the noon mealtray that it:’s revelling because of, that nothing’s been above that level to where now it’s tiresome-potentially-scary. that lady seems to have raised the rent from the 400 to 600 so tt it’s likely to be a quick fizzle to nothing for me and everything’s the same facade everywhere, only difference that in typing the jottoes onto here somehow that’s some reminder-assist that I’ve been being nonstop tortured! it’s all so unprovable nonexistent ephemeral that it fades this quickly but tt leaves me w that without anywhere to sit and collect my thoughts it”s just this railroad/steamroll effect of the same Armageddon world-takeover by myself insane peoples’ consortium.
to avoid the retardo-syndromes I’d tried calling to order the “room service” lunch st 10am, before it became like the stomach-calling game, so now it’s nearly one and I figure they’re prepared to say that it’s on it’s way so tt this 2nd call is unnecessary but tt it won’t ever get here without the request for the food please please


the suffocation curse8/18/18, sat.
I’ve been in this (new) Denver VA Hospital building for 6 days now and just agreed to wait for something on Tuesday, a “respite” care place where allegedly I’d still be able to go to the library, but I’d thought it was a respite — “they” just backtracked and corrected the typing as though by human thought and not automatically, — a respute — now “they” decided to leave it but sometimes I look up a few (cellphone) rows and there have been changes I have to backtrack for — I thought it was w the Samaritan inn place, group, which here unfortunately seems to be the Catholic charities group, that the e pluribus unum 666 Shahan and Crowley types come from, that I was basically stranded with/by from 2005 or earlier to this year, 2018, as how the global-underworld had gotten those book of the Revelation and its Armageddon prophecies accomplished. As bad as it is to stay in a CC place again at all then just heard tt the respite idea isn’t connected with Samaritan so that then it might be worse, as in the Massachusetts — these monsters are crawling all over and sabotaging me, this secret underground “world” being sneak-built since Florence Sabin and the Wolfe hall I’d guess, like replacement-humans I guess they think they sneak-are. Where the invisibles had re-interfered I’d had useful– it’s very difficult for me to do things so leave my business the way I have it or get a grown-up to peel you garbages off; — it’s as though the invisubles think crawling on me is free babysitting.


In retrospect I guess the fraud-mother had wanted a 2-bedroom apartment after the 2nd baby was born, in late 1958. One day she told me (I guess now) that she was going to take a nap on the couch just the few feet down the short hallway from the bedroom the new baby, Mary, and I were in and I had to promise that under no circumstances would I open the door. I guess that around 45 minutes had gone by at least because the playing with dolls by myself had already gotten tiresome and a thunderstorm started and that eventually woke the baby and she eventually started crying and that started me calling for the fraud-mother and going to the door to where you could see her on the couch through the keyhole in the old-style door, but she never budged, me hanging on the doorknob and banging and screaming, the baby out-screaming the thunder, but I never turned the handle to open the door and go shake her awake because I’d promised that I wouldn’t open the door under any circumstance. Trying to calm the baby down by talking didn’t help and I saw the little fancy bassinet or christening or what that the fraud-mother had set on the/my bed next to the bassinet and I held it up to over where it sounded like the crying shrieks were coming from in the head area of the bassinet and let the little pillow fall so the baby would probably notice it and it seemed that the plop had startled the baby to quit crying for a bit but she might have been about to start back up when the door flung open and the fraud-mother acted as though she’d caught me in the act of trying to hold the pillow down over the mouth and nose of the baby to stop the crying, which was hideous shrieking that had been louder than the storm which had been nearby or maybe overhead.after that there seemed to be Dr. spock-style maybe training lessons in how to be nice to baby and this story told over to each person they knew that me and the baby should be kept apart because I was jealous of the new baby and might therefore try to kill her again as I had in trying to smother her that day. I haven’t given that set much thought because the fraud-family hasn’t had interest n having contact with me but the other day in considering what it’ll be like when I leave here, with this same MIOC invisible stereotype globbed all over me and my life, it does seem like they’re prepping to kill me through this bell jar suffocation based on that long ago fabrication that I was doing tt to the baby, where in reality I was the victimized pawn — and where I think tt came from p this break.


Then it goes from that incident that”s become this standard anecdote-lie that I’d tried to smother the new baby to death bc I was jealous of it/her to that a photographer had come to the apartment and taken a set of photos of me and Mary. then there was the housing authority appointment and that’s where that encyclopedia-used later “Kindergarten” phonied-up photo had been taken, only I hadn’t any idea where the small family of 4 had gone to visit, it was the first time there wasn’t an answer when I’d asked a question, first time of rudeness against me, etc. for mentioning that I can’t be sure of the order of these little events and the only thing the fraud-mother assisted my recollecting by was then some little other peculiar bit, and those 3 incidents it seemed to me I was wearing the same white blouse and plaid skirt with shoulder straps.the next recollection was/is (me just relationship ng this bc bell jar air removal suffocation-deathway seems might be in the plan to do to me and tt’s based on some nutcase fabrication/lie, is real wrongful to set up all this for tt, and then the housing authority business and the little wrongfully taken photo lead to these same “Jomon.” the photo credit or even copyright maybe is, like, photo courtesy YMHA. When I found it I’d thought its HA stood for housing authority but finally noticed it’s Young Men’s Hebrew Association, which’d started in Baltimore circa 1840s and’s become the Jewish community centers everywhere now.
after the “mysterious” visit sometime Mrs. F. had this pattern of taking the 2 of us from our building to the corner and across not Longfellow Avenue but the smaller side street; I think it’s 178th St., to spend the days sitting outside of the apartment building Rosalie’s sisters lived in, mostly just sitting on soda crates and talking end group. at some point she told me to go ahead to the corner and call for Rosalie to get up and walk to the corner to help me cross the street and because Rosalie seemed to purposely ignore my yells I realize now that this was likely a trick so I’d get tired of yelling for assistance and would just cross and I’d get hit by a car. that further makes me winder if the Petruccis, in Siena or how it might have Renaissance-days been, weren’t involved in brains trafficking, brain-narcotics trafficking. Maybe Rose’s husband’s name was Nick, and there was a grandchild called little Mickie. Rosalie had 3 kids I think, Amelia, annabelle I think the baby’s name was back then, and then a little Tony. My point is that in walking to the corner to cross over one morning Mrs. f. had asked me if I recalled the appt/visit to the housing authority and then she described it more so I recognized that that was the housing unknown/mysterious visit and she said that all they did was put us on a waiting list so we were going to be moving across the street, into the same building as Rosalie. On some similar morning I’d maybe asked her why Rosalie didn’t seem to like me, (didn’t want to hear me calling for street-crossing help,) asnd Mrs. f. said it was bc I’d called Rosalie fat. Like the smother story that one also became oft-told. I’d never thought and therefore might have said any such thing. it seems that mes f had just attributed the statement to me. Rosalie had bought some black and white big checker squares design or pattern or motif pair of pants and if you saw them from the back they did, 1950s or just sometimes a bad match, look both funny and too tight, so I figure that Mrs f’s thought was tt they made the friend look fat bc tt is how they looked, very conspicuous, and mes f said tt tt’s what I’d said about them but i never would have noticed or cared what an adult was wearing, but then we moved into the same building and tt was the reason why she didn’t particularly like me. now I’m feeling like I was just a curse-practice target for her. — and it’s still going on, same lies and tricks pattern because it’s the same secret underground. I haven’t any resource for finding out what was there before 1924. all I could find on the name petrucci seemed like cellar-dwellers in Siena and an odd painting, alot of people-figures but one prominent Jomon in conspicuous striped skin tight pants.

suff4, 8/20/18, monday

I started trying to figure how 3 sisters lived in the 2 buildings right there and then recalled that there were the elder petruccis seemed to be from right down tt 178th street, along w some v popular Manny, but once we moved everyone but the 3 sisters wasn’t around anymore. down tt block and across the street and maybe one more block there was a luncheonette the ladies frequented, which reminds me of the French connection Brooklyn Fucas.I don’t recall anything of the moving one block closer up Longfellow Ave. toward the ps66, moving from say 1446 Longfellow on one side of 177th St. to 1500 Longfellow, which I guess took place spring of 1960 because my 5th birthday’s party was at 1500 Longfellow, and as I’d been told it wasn’t a party for me I’d guessed or figured tt it was a housewarming, all relatives and old family friends arriving with wrapped gifts.
I’,m not really trying to type about anything I can recall about tt neighborhood but any clues toward trying to get this jew-sikh type off of me, where its skullcrack-distribution network might be locatable for getting them all to get off of me, plus passing time waiting for any of this team of doctors to pop in unexpectedly. otherwise I’m ready for bed with just waking briefly for 530 dinner.
630pm, the rotten swine woke me by “playing” by crawling all over me.


the jew/Sikh evil is all over me, all crawling and set ups, ill dream, etc. in 1973/76 it knew I’d be a veteran if I lived this long.830am, along with all the evil underground tricks the “jew-sikh” has it fixed for rain today, the day tt I’m supposed to get out of here. rain makes things difficult for homeless me, and these have become strange-acting LURE people, workers, over the week+ I’ve been here and then the business, the evil Jew,

“the team” of strangeo-strangers with “doctors'” authority has been by and the social worker has simply been switched, the first guy, Travis s., having been switched to a tiny blonde they said is Ekaterina, who’d been by around 430 yesterday and said her name is kit or kat. Travis might have been “written out” because I showed him the john Carroll picture but I forgot to mention tt Carroll might have been descended from da Vinci and had been looking forward to getting tt mentioned but now it’s this weather-manipulation of myself and I’d guess the bums are doing the pornography LURE. all little things to mention, the breakfast-tray deliverer was some stormville-type and when ekat. came up it made me notice that the breakfast-tray deliverer could also maybe be “from” john Philip Sousa or from (Valentin/Vladimir) Rasputin the author of books on Siberia, me not positive tt Vlad. is his first name. the system is “waiting under” siberia-mongolia I’m always trying to stress. there’s also tt major monster, d.1992 or 2002 allegedly, peter/Pyotr deriabin. I don’t recall his birthplace but then he’d started teaching in Barnaul.
and I could find tt I’m actually leaving here today. between 930 and 10am is when Travis would stop by here and maybe kat will. she said she has both in- and outpt. assignments, me one of her 2 ins. she said she was working with Travis. something to the effect tt no one() could read his handwriting but the respite was with Samaritan inns and Michelle there and another lady somewhere else, and travis, all weren’t available yesterday but should be in today. the “team” has become sneaky with slipping in verbiage to the effect tt I cannot leave without O2, the standard horror scenarioizing.
like the underworld jew-sikh-what all ever could have foreseen tt I’d wind up in VA hospitals after I’d been honorably discharged circa 40 years ago it’s been obvious tt the system had been getting ejac-specimens of that #2fraud-uncle since he’d been in WWII. I guess my main basis for that is only tt henry P. III character, maybe my assumption that he was a 2nd generation grown “type,” come to doubt my math now. then I’d read tt Joseph heller had had to be de-briefed in Washington (DC) on return, but he’d been in Europe and I that the debriefing had had to do with returning from the pacific, for example of being or getting mixed up. the #1fraud-uncle had been in Europe in WWII, the next son of Matilda to the Pacific and the 3rd I just noticed that yesterday’s volunteer is similar to (and then possibly “from” Carnegie, Andrew,) was b. 1928, tt he was too young. I don’t really know() much about any of them, just older uncles whose families I saw mostly on holidays, but all kinds of stereotype “bums” that are maybe from them, and females, sic. I guess the henry p. III was the first time I noticed tt this #2 fraud-uncle’s bio-product had been used and presumably by the govt. There’s a brief bio in a book about I think, no puns, ,(), “recovery” and I’ll try to recall the title and author, Gary Stromberg, second chances, and the bio by henry III is the 2nd chapter. around early 2014 when I found tt bc of trying to learn about Reagan’s aide Michael k. deaver I noticed that deaver’s volunteer work associate henry p. III might. be a guy I’d seen around the (2nd and D Sts., NW,) building occasionally and then upon closer look, I think it went, tt tt guy, p. or not, looked like tt uncle, #2type, except of course for the skin color, that this is a dark shade. at tt same time I (finally) put together tt it’s possible to decompose us into petroleum, and surmise that Mr. deaver was involved with that. when l was later able to use a search engine a little the only photo I could find of henry p. III looked nothing like the guy around the building, who started sneak-harassing me I recall now about tt next winter, and neither did he look old enough to have done the bio on himself at deaver’s (earlier, 2007,) funeral. it seems like anything might be fraudulent anymore. from the little bio my math-guesstimates suggested tt the p. character I’d seen might have been “made,” fertilized, back in 1945/6 when maybe the fraud-uncle had been in Washington briefly before gg back to the Gun Hill Road family house in the Bronx, based on tt p. said he was born in Washington. There was a similar “homeboy” last winter, early this year, tt obnoxious stormville horror monster shuttle van driver.
this cellphone “maniacally” seems to be auto-changing where I’d checked that it was okay and started typing along again. it’s mainly or only where I use hyphens in some of this difficult to describe stuff. I just noticed it in the “strangeo-strangers” above, that like here now i’d backspace-deleted to auto-correct the autocorrect and watched to make sure it didn’t re-correct back and I started this one-finger pecking again and it was okay and the hour+ later I happened to notice it was back to the auto-correct’s selection. at 1130 IR’s back to sunny day outside the window again, as my discharge time should be early in order for me to get across town. naturally I can’t guess what the evil is up to or manipulating toward. I haven’t begun trying to describe waking from tt horror “dream” abuse yet.


the new trick is I’m waiting for Respiratory and it isn’t going to arrive. always one trick after another.

8/22/18, Wed.

Still in the Denver/new Aurora VA hospital and 2 odd things have occurred, plus a cellphone problem of its running down to 0 battery overnight for not any reason, then the team rep listened to my lungs and said I sound like a million bucks, and there’s like a pink overcast tinge to all the beige decor in the courtyard.somehow it’d occurred to me, bc the Resp. tech had black hair so I wondered she isn’t “from” Ms. Bluesmen (Rose,) like maybe the other and then I hadn’t that of tt during the ltl lung test, pft, tt maybe there are a lot of citizens of Denver “from” the reproductive materials of the Bluemel. That’d stirred questioning on this seeming-sneakiness around Sabin’s papers, what Bluemel might have been up to, and it occurred tt maybe it was a coverup for tt Florence had been a disappeared and replaced person somehow and for some reason, sometime, and Ms. Bluemel was DG a system coverup on tt tt had happened, been perp’d.
While mulling on tt the room telephone rang and it was the “Anthony” nurse on her day off, saying her husband could get me a free flight back east or I could sleep on her couch or is there any other way she could help. she offered her phone number and I took it bc I thought I didn’t know her last name but I recall it now. I was shocked bc a or the main scam to this Armageddon Program holocaust is TT normals “flock to” assist me and the bums then kill or ‘disappear” those “volunteers.” There “an Anthony” was simply picking up a phone and contacting me like an ordinary life thing, action.
she said she’s been a traveling nurse, then about settling here bc her kids don’t like the traveling anymore. she kept asking about don’t I want to be around family and where are they until I said I didn’t want to talk about tt and similarly I had to be abrupt with final goodbyes to actually hang up. my impression was tt she’d bn a temp nurse, not VA, gg from here to civilian and back again but her name is like “door” so I guess tt she was here monday and Tuesday for the LURE purposes. the second name is a ltl like the word magic, tt this with her is some big way the underworld’s been getting people, for all its various uses. The “team rep” I haven’t had a chance to mention seems like a stereotype tt’s maybe a small-sized Huxley. I think Aldous and Maria had gone on an around the world vacation before bg in NY in 1924 or whenever they met. Anita loos. last night I recalled tt the sfclown had kept a picture of himself kneeling and his 4’10 Asian (Chinese) girlfriend Heather flat on the top of his refrigerator.

8/25/18, 2nd attempt

tt it’s really LURE-bad. I can only barely hobble-walk slowly so tt built phony drama as they were making this “Julie was better than you, better than you” theme muzak to this invisible warfare Armageddon Program and then when I got here the jomon-ginsberg started the Jurassic Park dinosaur or beast growls they do to car engine vehicle drive-bys, and the male pervert growls through and on top of my head out here to this new domain off of me its directing, and then some Arrow stage bus picked up around 40 people and the noise of its engine had the retarded garbage all powerful all over me till I had to take this out in some self-defense attempt, and now I’ll try to send it and go into the shelter to try to get some personal assist from all tt oxygen this is life and death gimmick-theming on besides all the ugly Jomon deviants’ good time off of parasiting on my weekend, “now,” which is also one of their brain-drug slang words.

I don’t know how this “queuing works and I’d left out that while the ” Allen”-figment was bouncing up and down in excitement I was gg through the daily syndrome part of this of getting rid of any/all of the food left over from my day and today it was a lot and the waste always bothers me while the “filthy Jomon” always preys on my brain about all the system’s mass-reproduced people’s possible hunger I could be helping to eradicate, and then how unsanitary I am was all part if that invisible-torture bit. the bus turns out to be some regular part of the bus here, but it’s one of the standard program tricks too so all I can try to do is try to ignoe everything tt isn’t what I’m trying to do. while this/these goon/s are directing what happens to me from this live on-spying on me invisibly, etc.

On Sat, Aug 25, 2018, 7:20 PM kathleen foshay <pixisafe> wrote:

tt it’s really LURE-bad. I can only barely hobble-walk slowly so tt built phony drama as they were making this “Julie was better than you, better than you” theme muzak to this invisible warfare Armageddon Program and then when I got here the jomon-ginsberg started the Jurassic Park dinosaur or beast growls they do to car engine vehicle drive-bys, and the male pervert growls through and on top of my head out here to this new domain off of me its directing, and then some Arrow stage bus picked up around 40 people and the noise of its engine had the retarded garbage all powerful all over me till I had to take this out in some self-defense attempt, and now I’ll try to send it and go into the shelter to try to get some personal assist from all tt oxygen this is life and death gimmick-theming on besides all the ugly Jomon deviants’ good time off of parasiting on my weekend, “now,” which is also one of their brain-drug slang words.


8/24-26/18, Friday to Sunday

None of my material has been getting through either way on the cellphone, can’t even call up the blog yet. I’m in a bad situation of getting stuck in yet another “Mr./Mo. T.” charitable institution place that it’s very complex and I’ve only got a few minutes, will get back here tomorrow, having been in the VA hospital from the 13th to the 21st and now this.

(copied this from today’s attempt to function:) they won’t let anything function. This I guess has been going on since the 1992 beginning of this Armageddon off of me, where in 1991, it was 1991, I’d gotten a little PC used from an IBM employee and there was some one of the little “tricks” the system-things only know how to do, and then I’d learned and collected more or less the names and addresses of all the best Shareware programmers, hobbyists working on computers at night or trying to start up their own companies, and this Armageddon swooshed all over me and there were viruses all over and then this present system’s been being worked up to where the underworld parasites control all the computer use, up from the cellphones back to Alexander Graham Bell’s system of things to this to where a normal person can’t do anything that the “jomon” I’d taken to describing this “race” of people who champion the black-haired old warrior-invaders against the Trojans, way back then to now the same old, same old, the Jomon getting involved after the Trojan “war” and taking the invading Autists from actually here where I’m finally getting to, word for how things had erupted into “war” and they’re just “Autist,” remote-control, for lying about everything because their brains know that 1st going to the New World via Beringia and then smashing all the baby dinosaur eggs was wrong. Let me see if I can use my blog before going on and on with all this re-hash of what I’m trying to explain all these years since I started researching this system back then in 1992.

1 p.m., they already got me with 1 extra sign-in, as thought there are some 2 of me, as I’m just the world’s most parasite-encrusted person, as how this system has been sneak-functioning, and it’s unchanging. My thing now is to try to get the email I had to sit up and try to type last night on what they’re doing as it’s all the “exact same” thing, all the same “French Connection” abuse of myself as they extemporize building up their global-system. I hadn’t tried yet to send any of the ltl email notes I’d been making to myself while stuck in the hospital as usual under these phony-system excuses, that it’s only the teensiest bit I could salvage out of all that nothing-to-do under that circumstance time, but I have tried to send a few little notes since I’ve been out of there and none of them have gotten through and that’s my project now. “They” have just been queuing my cellphone notes instead of sending them to arrive here and it’s gotten to be too much of the invisible torture imprisonment again, of all this millennium stuck in these “CC” charity-shelter cover up excuse for perpetrating all this system-takeover, plus now with the strange new set up of trying to work here on this equipment and the blinking lights saying my time is  up, time is up and nervousness standard operating “Armageddon Program” procedure all over tiny real me, etc. for all the same syndromes’ being perpetrated all over myself, that this is how the system is “building” the TOTAL PLANET DEATH, little by little, their 2 gazillion crimes against everything, against nature. This is where it comes from though, right near here, so that I’d gone to sleep last night trying to think if maybe I could go from here to Santa Fe which is named after the Saint/e Foy character I keep explaining the book of Revelation/Armageddon is all started from, and then over to the 4 Corners, but all this is because I haven’t any choice about that I have to leave Denver when it gets cold, I can’t stand the cold weather with this phony lung-COPD underworld-done illness and my general health after all this horror and I’m 63 years old now. — “They” gave me another 15 minutes for this, I can relax a little. I don’t recall how this works, it’s basically the same system as in Washington but I’d barely just learned that and there are local variations to all these things that are the same in this “global-system.” I went to sleep trying to figure if maybe I could spend the winter then in Phoenix so that I could try to learn more about and get some photos of that Mogollon Rim. That seems to me to be the big excuse for all the system’s sadism, that in Prehistory the Beringia-crossing survivors got a look at the volcanoes and canyons and then that Mogollon Rim and they decided that the sun-god of the voice-bothering them or how they viewed what they were evading in their Beringia-crossing attempt to reach the sun-source in the first place, they decided that that Mogollon Rim proved that the god of the voices was the source of sadism and it didn’t matter what they did in comparison to that way of trick-sneak-death as they’d just be walking and boom, fall for one or two thousand feet, person or animal after person or animal, that that Mogollon Rim more or less “cemented” the system-ancestors’ attitude toward pain and right or wrong, that nothing they did was as bad as that Mogollon Rim so I’d thought maybe I could manage to get myself to Phoenix during the winter and then try to explore what the Rim meant to those Prehistorics of this area and I only got about an hour and a half of sleep and this standard horror invisible molestation of this LURE all these years with me stranded in that charity-situation in Washington especially had started up again and I am all by myself, all by myself, all by myself, with the whole real end eventually of biology for not any real real reason, usual I try to explain, but there was another horror, that I’m trying to explain the situation by using this book that was written sort of allegorically or whatever the exact word for symbolically might be, that that Alan Glynn film I’d seen was taken from, I’d ordered a copy of the book on the 10th and then my cellphone didn’t work while I was in the hospital with this invisible horror always on me and I got out and finally got back to the bookstore yesterday to claim the book and it was never ordered, and I couldn’t believe it, still feel kind of horrified about the whole thing of that behind my back these system-parasites either told or let the order-taker simply not order the book, me explaining alot of this situation I’m in to the guy, that I’m like 1/2-dead and hoping to get a copy to bring with me as the system’s chasing me into a hospitalization, but it takes 4-10 days to get the book and 2 or 3 days later I’d had to go to the VA. Etc. Then there are no longer any copies of it in this library-system so when I called the bookstore to try to ask the clerk why he hadn’t ordered the book a girl put the book on order and then it’s the 4-10 days again. Maybe he didn’t because things are so easy for anyone to order and receive products but I’m still really a homeless ghost-prisoner and nothing has been easy for me and then for all this I’ve made not any progress, I’ve still got the same, the “Man In Oriental Costume” type directing the underworld’s Armageddoning the Earth off of doing sneak-tricks off of myself, inexplicable as this all is but after I’d jotted the note of this invisible-torture last night then it was more or less the “insomnia-torture” part of how they do all this and I couldn’t fall back asleep for around 2 hours and during that time I recalled the name of one of the Army doctors I’d worked with way back when who’d looked just like this “CC”-problem-set all over me that I have, the parasites, similar to the “Allen Ginsberg” business, so that I might be able to get some of that explained, as in,

Escape from the Bronx

back in 1973 had led to this being Man In Oriental Costume-system watched wherever I went then and the people around me’s being given this “show directions” or what that has continued down all these years.

Instead of me being able to conduct this blog the way I think it should be conducted there’s all this Allen Ginsberg-type-manipulated pile of the different subjects that strangers don’t know anything about mishmash this makes my real life business into all the parasites-all-0ver-me invisible-warfare time. Rotten bums, nothing but ugly perverted little developmentally disabled ugly boys who always wanted to climb all over the big-breasted blonde women. That’s sort of how I recalled this Army doctor’s name, might as well give it into this mishmash mess this only is now, that in 1975 I’d gone as a medic/aide to Baumholder clinic and there were 4 doctors and 4 physician assistants, and then as these years go on I see lots of people who look a little like all of those people and that reminded me that this stuart k. goldstein and besides that he’d looked similar to this that crawls all over my life anymore there was some little dumb incident in Brooklyn around 2004 when I’d gone to the Catholic Charities’ headquarters about if there was anything they could do to assist about my housing business, that I can’t really make enough money to keep up monthly rental payments for long before going broke and homeless again. I think they were/are around or on Court Street down there and outside the office before I got there this six-foot lawyer-looking guy did a scene of snatching off his jacket as though he was going to wrestle with me about me getting any assistance, but the guy didn’t look Catholic, he’d clearly looked Jewish, and I didn’t see anything but some amusing-maybe cartoon-like meaninglessness to the incident and I went in and they gave me a little list of places that might have assistance for me and none of them had worked out and I forgot about them except that when I went broke and then something peculiar happened so that I’d had to go to my bank’s home branch in Washington and wound up then stranded there it was in this “CC” place that then became this 10 years of “Armageddon Program” and then the Maryland car-hit and back to Washington and all the ensuing horror that I just escaped in February to get to Florida from, and 6 months later here I am inadvertantly back in a “CC” place and I’ve got the system sabotaging anything I try to do including merely ordering this really important book copy as something I can use for a base maybe for trying to explain that the system-people had always done that kind of drug like is in that book and always under the influence of that they’d felt LIMITLESS in self-power but that’s only while under the influence, it was never a real thing and they’re killing everything and everyone ever since then and the gazillions of “trick-crimes” are going to end in not any planet for anyone plus the bums do it off of me, so that guy on the street back in 2004 had looked like that Army doctor I’d worked with in Baumholder and the things that are currently crawling all over me to force me to have to type like this instead of constructively toward responsibly-thinking adults’ attention to this global-situation farce we’re in. Now it won’t save so I can get out of this file and try to think less hurriedly. “They” keep freezing the terminal like had been started in Greenfield (Mass.)

— I can’t move along with whatever I’m trying to do, not here to do all this conspicuous-seeming torture, until these email notes to myself to here somehow arrive. In the past the bums have sometimes “queued” my emails or messages to here and there seems not to be any rhyme or reason to getting them unqueued and delivered so that I can order them to try to do all this, etc. I’m trying to go from this little mostly-children’s branch library to way down the street from here to see the old house that Mary Sabin had lived in that Florence Sabin had written all those letters I’ve been reading to, back around 1930. I cannot figure my own Florence Sabin research at this point because I’ve got loose ends everywhere. It’s even possible that Florence had been killed and replaced by some “identity-impostor” like seems to go like water in how the system’s become so seemingly all-powerful against us individuals. I finally finally found this one hospitalization she’d had, allegedly for bursitis of her arm. It seems like there might have been 2 different Florence Sabins. I came here to read what her biographer was like and maybe I’m kept surrounded by people “grown” off of the ovae of Sabin’s biographer, is what it’s like that I’ve got crawling all over me as I try to do this impossible surviving while covered by all these “jomon-race” of underground pervert/parasites etc, making my life impossible and that might be being one of the many tactics invisibly against me right now, it’s already 2:30pm and I would have like to have seen more of that area that I’m going to try to leave here and head for, maybe take and send a picture of where Florence’s sister Mary had been living but the girls I can’t be sure of anything about, they may have always also been in that “LIMITLESS sunshine”-narcotic business for all I could know, one or both or combinations of possibilities of them. There’s alot of work of looking up things I’d like to be doing instead of all this jumble the torture turns my blog and real Universe -rescue attempt into only being. Get off of me you parasites. A person cannot live in this isolation-vacuum the bums have apparently always had me in, being born into some rigged fraud-family-group in the Bronx from way back when, from the 1930s. Some of this could be explained if my files could arrive here and get put together in order and I could proceed out from that 1960s “French Connection” Bronx time-period, that this underworld has been trying to make its living and its world-takeover off of selling brain-serum on the sneak must have been going on underneath that Bronx Longfellow Avenue/P.S. 66 neighborhood. Again, then the system-bums didn’t get rich after all from the space exploration and so in the confusion of turning to sheer violence to keep their system going I’d been able to enlist in the Army or else I’d have never gotten anywhere, them figuring I’d been born into captivity obviously I notice anymore, had been born into their petroleum-world captivity but they didn’t know what they were doing with Space and so I slipped out of the Bronx but they just sit watching my skull and overseeing my life and giving orders to their accomplices anywhere I go all these years. — panic button as they’re closing this down, i have to sign off etc syndrome.

8/26/18, sunday i guess it is, just all horror, waking up into all the “Jewish-Sikh ‘magic'” of the standard all these decades now Armageddon “Program” of using the impoverished people around me as choreographed ritual-weapons, etc.

I have to do certain life-support things. I’ve been repeating these same things for 25 years and these “parasites” to describe the least don’t understand human or english, me saying that for more than 2 decades now also, i can’t get through these blobs of garbage perverts.

Apparently they grew these “Babar boys” or Babar-people to include the females for being Armageddon helpers and it seems like they’ve got them chasing me around sort of like the way I recall it from this film I keep describing describes the “brain-eaters,” the “Limitless” novel, “The Dark Fields,” that I require that as some teaching tool it seems but it might be a week before I can even get my hands on a copy of my own and then the amount of free time I’ve got for reading could “fit into a thimble” to try to be realistic about any of this and as usual only having a few minutes before my time on this terminal is up or what. I looked up Santa Fe and I’d have to be crazy to go there, thinking that I can’t subject these Denver strangers to this Armageddon-off of Kathy Foshay that the brain-eaters are ALWAYS steps ahead of and sabotaging anything I try to do so it occurred to me after today’s horror that maybe it’d be for the best if I tried just getting to see Santa Fe instead of letting this be perpetrated off of me onto this “innocent” more or less place here, and there isn’t any way Santa Fe would be useful in my situation, which like seems to only leave me Houston. (“They” might be trying to scare me off of this terminal now, a standard tactic to keep me getting nowhere all these decades of this same old same old cartoon-head holocaust of the normal human beings.)

Yeah, they are doing some parasite-trick. I have to get out of that “Mother” Sainte/Mr. Teresa hole I got into, total accidental as usual situation tiny little me is alone in and being used for killing off the normal people. I can’t just sit in this sneak-torture situation and this is after the 2 decades of its being sneak-perpetrated onto me, only to find myself accidentally back in the “exact same” horror. Even this lack of oxygen/COPD b.s. the system is killing me by comes from being in that sort of the “charitable institution” started by that 666-Bishop/Shahan, the whole “Pill-grim” thing, Ghent Altarpiece business, “E Pluribus Unum” I can’t explain quickly enough to any stranger about but this Bishop Shahan, died 1932 had founded this “CC” and the whole thing is the Revelation book’s Armageddon business and the developmentally disabled brain-eating bums do all that off of tiny Kathy me Foshay, and it’s real and approximately nothing else is anymore it’s just all sneak-horror off of harassing me but the brain-eating bums have been doing that at least since Renaissance and or Medieval times and perhaps actually back to that so-called Trojan “war” which was really an invasion of these black-haired Autist dinosaur-egg killers went to the Old World then and started this holocaust way of life for their Autist selves and then the Jewish-Sikh Jomon partner-friend and “Jesus father and son” and holy whatever sit on their butts and run the world but since around 1960 they’ve been sitting on their butts bothering my brain to do their world-takeover dreams off of, the brain-eating brain-readers helping the brain-damanged Autists have, been. Difficult to describe to strangers and I have to sign off and go do personal-survival real things through this horror-cartoon of them laying all over reading my thoughts.


31 August, 2018

I’ve been in denver’s VA hospital and am seeing abt a shelter space now, testing to see if this is working, etc.

the monsters aren’t letting me communicate, the “Jomon, etc.”

troubles, difficulties, etc.

On Thu, Aug 23, 2018, 2:54 PM Kathleen Foshay <universerescue.attempt> wrote:

all kinds of the invisible Armageddon difficulties. i’ll try to get through again tomorrow.

August 31, 2018, me

I’ll have to do something about the cellphone-items’ suddenly sporadically being sent, try to get some of the order I’d intended into those, reduce those duplications, etc.

This is a tiny piece I noticed on what Wikipedia has got on the subject of the Mogollon Rim: The southern part of the Hellsgate Wilderness was home to the native american group known as the Salado. This civilization flourished along the banks of the Salt River in the 13th and 14th centuries. In the later part of the 14th century, the Salado went into decline and by 1400 the Hellgate Wilderness area was largely abandoned. Sometime in the 16th century, the Apache began using this area for a hunting ground and continued to do so until they were driven out by ranchers and miners of European descent.[3]

In 1927, a Ryan Brougham airplane flown by Martin Jensen, carrying MGM’s Leo the Lion, was forced to make an emergency landing in a box canyon in the Hellsgate Wilderness. Both pilot and lion survived with no injuries and the canyon was named Leo Canyon after the incident. The wreckage of the plane was left in the canyon until 1991, when a historic airplane enthusiast named Scott Gifford found it and removed it from the canyon via helicopter. He plans to restore the plane to airworthiness.[4]

— I just thought that the part about the forced landing was too coincidental. The sadism all around me is so bad. Somewhere else, under Types somewhere probably I’d gotten a copy of this 1648 “Eliezer and Rebecca at the Well” before but what I’ve been learning underscores that this is all that the whole world is dying because of, is going to die off because of, is doomed because of, etc., the TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION I’m all alone with, that these “Eliezer” bums were only primitive islanders back around the Trojan “war” invasion of the little Autist people and the 2 types of people befriended, sex, drugs, music and food-buddy befriended, and they went after controlling the world, etc., for that I’ve inadvertantly been kept at the bottom of these monsters’ way of taking over the Earth. The girls in this 1648 painting were probably basically from the stolen ovaries from that previous century by the Joseph “Lepanto” Nasi character, that Eliezer and Nasi are the same family or “race” that I’m now calling as from the old “Jomon” people who’d lived on Japan before the Ainu people. I just saw one in this library, one of the Allen Ginsberg-looking “Jomon” or even lately I’m trying Jew-Sikh as the description, that they’re all from the same early origin of this horror situation. The one just now was doing one of the standard scaring me to stir up entropy routines that they always only do, never speak, just do excited-seeming walk-bys, an acting scene to stir up confusion, as their little “magic” acts had typically just caused me to drop or misplace a library card because they invisibly crawl all over everybody, not just me I’m sure, and play games like sleight of hand “magic” and then what you were just holding is gone and you run around looking all over, so while I was forced to do that one of them was making a phony crowd scene stir-up to help freak little me out. It’s really bad; I might be forced to prematurely leave Denver just to get away from those “Jomon” and their “Babar” protegees, where it’s been 24/7 killing me with this phony oxygen business and now I had to spend $300 to spend a week in a motel that’s like an airless deathtrap for myself. If the place had cost $150 a week I’d be saying it’s fabulous but to spend $300 just to get off of the streets into anywhere and it’s this “Armageddon Program Jomons'” choice of place for me to have to wind up in, it just seems all deathtrap, all negative, and I don’t know how tiny, elderly, out of breath because they’re underneath and pulling all the time onto my innards, little me can manage to improve the situation enough, to find a more reasonably-priced place and actually get into it with this oxygen-business’s being the big “comedy” hoax onto me, all different characters that these devil-Jomon send up here to harass me about that I HAVE TO use oxygen and do so through these “concentrators” that make some god-awful noise that likely effects the LURE-point of attracting the attention of unawares people, that the Jomon et al. then slaughter. Thin line between laughter and slaughter, this “Armageddon Program” off of me has always been.

I’ll be trying a little bit to see if I can find a more reasonable room here but I’m just so close to being murdered by this sneak-underground’s pull onto my innards all the time that maybe it’s for the best I just get out of Denver and thence into the next horror-situation but it’d be a horror-situation of landing in some new town that at least isn’t up a mile from sea-level, because all the medical stereotypes repeat that there’s less oxygen as you go up from sea-level and so it’s 2+2 that difficulty breathing is going to be exacerbated in Denver, and I can’t do anything about both that bottom-line and the one where in a month or so it’d be too cold for me to stay here, but it’s a shame that I can’t spend the next month trying to find out all what I can about the prehistoric situation and disappearance of the dinosaurs from here, I’d just have these Allen Ginsbert-and-Babar and other stereotypes’ making this “toy entertainment” amusement abuse of myself the whole time, 24/7 without any of it’s ever being anything provable or useful, just entropy-pollution kept all around me to make me sick and make sado-entertainment for whatever the situation underground is which I guess is that the “Jomon” do the underground people-slaughtering for their longtime old Autist buddy partners, — the little black-haired people that have thrived to be everywhere now. The only place I can think of to go to from here and therefore not be too far away so that I could potentially keep researching this prehistoric and the Sabin material, etc., is Houston, that I wouldn’t be so far away that I couldn’t return when the winter’s over next year, being the thinking, and then that Houston has got the research-attempt that astronaut-chief John Watt Young had lived there till passing this past January there. He’d been born, all allegedly according to the system say-so’s, just south of the San Francisco border, in San Mateo, then taken to Georgia and then grew up in Orlando Florida where all the amusement parks are and near Cape Canaveral/Kennedy Space Center. My point is that he’s a figurehead Autist or even “thee” figurehead Autist of the 20th century, the main Autist of the whole recent past and the space venture. On the space-venture subject it’s also really begun to scare me that I seldom or never see stars in the sky anymore. I’m always totally alone with nobody that there’s any sense in asking questions of to assist me trying to find out about what’s happened that the sky full of stars doesn’t seem to be visible anymore. The only other thing I’ve been doing is that the biographer of Florence Sabin had been a co-owner in this medical place called Mount Airy Sanitarium, and that property is next-door to where the VA had then built their building and the previous owner of all that area had been someone from Vermont named Frank Pitkin Allen. A guy/doctor named Newhouse or Neuhaus had bought 2 houses there from Mr. Allen and turned them into this sanitarium that was then bought by Charles Sidney Bluemel and his wife Elinor who’d then also written some biographies and the whole thing is “hinky,” it’s peculiar how the biography was put together, and then it goes on into the layers of details that I don’t have anyone to discuss about with. It’s difficult for me to bother these people for photocopies, that I’m lucky just to get a chance to look at the materials, but this Dr. Charles Sidney Bluemel I’m thinking might be descended from this “Rebecca” at the well choice of Eliezer’s, Eliezer being Jomon and became all over the place into different lines thriving off of underground slaughtering for food for the Autists and became this Frank Pitkin Allen type of person likely and then moved former-Rebecca became C.S. Bluemel onto this Denver prepared-property for all this cannibalism-system. I’ll have to try to get photocopies of Bluemel and his wife for examples but I still don’t have anyone listening or able to do anything as I’m used as a LURE by those Jomon-Allen-types looking for fresh victims for their slaughter profession. I have to sign-off now but did want to get these updates mentioned, which make it a shame for me to have to leave Denver prematurely like it looks like I’d have to do because these invisible warfare bums have had me being wrung-to-death on the streets here invisibly just sprung on me so many times now that it isn’t safe to stay in that airless room and it’s taking up all my little cash, etc., as it looks like these “magicians” expect me to be staying in this place a 2nd week simply because it’s so difficult for tiny me to do all these logistical odds and ends for getting my elderly torture-victim self from one strange place to another anymore, etc., etc.

Eliezer and Rebecca at the Well, 1648 - Nicolas Poussin my type is the -^kneeling girl, then Eliezer ^, then his choice ^ “Julie” star.

WikiArt, Public Domain, 1648 by Nicolas Poussin, Eliezer and Rebecca at the Well

logistical difficulties

I’m doing this hunt and pecking because I’m trying to think through this disaster-mush. I couldn’t function to get out if this motel room and finally I telephoned and got through to the oxygen-refill lady and in 5 minutes the equipment pick up problem was straightened out but I don’t know what time they’ll be here and as soon as the oxtgen-air is off of me the underground bums start killing me so I’m trying to be careful but I haven’t been able to get anything accomplished, it’s just a bizarre excrements oriented animal act all over me. The first thing was getting the oxygen pick-up taken care of. Now it’s 6pm and I’ve run out of food for now plus have to do preparation for the BUS TRIP which is seeming impossible from this point. When the guy picks up the oxygen I have to leave because this horror strangulation death way starts up as soon as the oxygen is off. From where I am it’s a little easier to catch the bus to downtown then but across the street it goes to the VA hospital. I just don’t think they’ll do anything for me because — it’s too many letters to poke, would take me till 8pm to describe, but I just recalled that the buses electric plug-ins, and the station does, and this little Walmart fan could make the trip okay, I could carry it onto the bus. That starts with a walk to the store next door for tonight though and last night’s walk doing that was horrible, the invisible/anonymous bums forcing me to p* and s* -crawl up the driveway to this room. Besides that the main logistic is getting cash from either of the 2 b of a ATM’s I know of. The buses have somehow already quit running to one of them but start again early, and the other is just a little inconvenient because I can’t recall which cross street it has, between Glenarm and Tremont maybe. I have to somehow get to one of those 2 places and the one without the running bus right now would be nicer. The chance of me catching the bus at 5am is unlikely and after that the day-heat will make/let the torture seem worse and the errand might not get done.

9/4/18, Tues.

Everything’s a disaster. I can’t recall if I’d gotten around to mentioning — And I went back to check and only the beginning of the “Himalayas” post had gotten posted. Now I tried this “finger-copying:”would have to try to place it here later.
I think they’d done that to me last week even when I had the oxygen tank attached, but it seems ostensibly because I don’t have the oxygen attached, but really it seems to me a murder-game of the bored “lounge lizard” -type Ginsberg’s and those Babar boys’, and maybe the latter are mostly of the same type as the M. Scaglia of the “French Connection.”
(photo to here.)
This animal act I’m in is really indescribable and I’m not sure how to go about this survival-attempt best. I’d rented this motel room for the oxygen and it’s too much money so I have to leave Denver asap but I’d just called the oxygen company and was told they won’t be in this area to pick up the equipment until next Monday, telling me that the motel people will store this stuff in their office, and that sounds absurd to me, but I’m not from here, speaking of which there are one or 2 larger situation-examples. Today I’d ordinarily make it to the library to finish up the reading I’d come here for, but like out of seemingly nowhere they’d had some enormous food festival all weekend, I hadn’t seen any advertisements but they had fences and white tents all in that area with a sign that said it would be till 6 a.m. Tuesday, today now. The Armageddon Program-pattern has always been that it’s a big torture day for me the next day after each holiday because the underworld has LURED but they like to use me as a big kill-excuse, so it doesn’t seem like the underworld people’s fault or what but is because I show up making mistakes, the stupid cross-eyed girl or what stereotype they want to use. That made it seem out if the question to go there today. I’d had to go near there on Saturday and then to there for something that hadn’t worked out. now I figure I’d ought to check with the oxygen dept. at the VA hospital about this leaving the equipment with the mgmt at this strange motel, and the invisible-torture is so bad that that’s going to be all excrement-drama, I might only be lucky if I make it right back to here where I really have to get other errands toward leaving here done, but first to find out what that office says. I’d looked briefly to see if there was any way I could make a rest-stop for oxygen in Albuquerque and noticed they have a/the Lovelace Respiratory Research Institute there, and then that Randy Lovelace II (1907-1965) might have been a Shahan/Pill-grim “E Pluribus Unum” stereotype. His death seems suspicious. The company logo and the DC library logo are nearly the same, a capital “L,” like it’s moving into the right side. L is the lamed letter in Hebrew and it brings a meathook to my mind. I’ve started to think of the biographer’s name Bluemel as seeming like bloom-el, with L bring like of decapitation for this meat-system for feeding the Shahan-types and other Autists and their brain-eating friends and partners. The Lovelace’s were about the major doctors iinvolved in choosing the 1st astronauts, Alan Shepard, John Glenn, the Mercury 7. Wikipedia says they’d started business in 1947, which is when the “sound barrier” broke which I think was actually the ozone seal around our atmosphere, keeping in our oxygen, so it’s an odd coincidence that Lovelace went into this respiratory business. And he was an expert parachuter so the early death seems odd too. Similar might be (d. 1944,) Genl. Maurice Rose that the hospital next door to the Bluemel’s was named for.

9/4 again — then it ended like this:Bluemel’s was named for.

9/8/18, Sat., test-send

When I was here 2-3 weeks ago I’d “terms and conditions” submitted that I agreed not to transmit some such-and-such and I figured anything I do is such and such to the system and I didn’t send anything to the blog, to UR, here, (there,) and then wasn’t organized enough to be able to do so when this cellphone suddenly started acting like normal at that motel for a week, to send the notes from my time here in the VA hospital and what I did send still didn’t arrive completely, that Bluemel and what little after that, but this time first I turned off the VA wifi and then tried to call up here and it actually arrived, where I hadn’t been able to see it till I was out of here for about 2 days, and I thought I would make a test send without its getting so long that some of it gets cut off but I’ll find out if its working, and then I’ll go back to this way of typing (the h&p) but keep it in draft till later, just little bits on the 1962 “French Connection” time but there was one more I recalled and should get typed and I’ll do that now because the oxygen-arrangement sounds like another overnight here, there’ll be time for that typing today therefore, etc., not wanting anything misinterpretable, etc. — maybe they sometimes arrive incomplete because now I might have (usually do,) hit the send button without doing a save first. —

(9/5/18 appears to be missing, the file is empty now.)

9/8/18, Sat.

Now I have to wait a little while where sometimes it’s seemed that a send gets cut off because I call up the blog too soon after sending, like immediately.The “Jomon” attached to my head got excited that I should mention my big realization before the 1962 recollection that goes with the 5 files I’d typed last month but couldn’t send to here yet, that all this oxygen and respiratory business likely came from nothing but a purposely-done curse onto myself. I thought of that after reading about that Lovelace business. I don’t recall that Tom Wolfe mentioned them in his “The Right Stuff” account of what the astronauts went through but he probably had and now I learn that their role might have been so big that they, (fraud-) uncle and nephew, might have been prime movers of the entire space race-space program, and one of them was the “Shahan” or Ghent Pill-grim boy, “E Pluribus Unum,’ and the 666, stereotype…. And they’re so small-think that I got this curse just for doing a little reading in that government library plus the extent that their underworld-etc. system has lived off of me in order to force its way to its current (and unrelenting) power-chokehold global-system just by itself is astronomical, and kept unprovable. I’d met one and his partner-type in San Francisco in 1978. Maybe my time here will be enough I can get that typed about, an embarrassment and probably pornography across set up I’d walked into. Anyone that knows any system-lingo, talkcode, could figure what the ” Linda” in the 1972 Linda Lovelace news was the doubletalk for, L-in-da or what Lovelace, per the space venture’s findings, which I think were nothing in exchange for the deaths of millions and millions of people turned into that rocket fuel. I think those deaths were the real reason for the Allies.the U.S.’ “winning” WWII, so the rocket program could be moved to the fresh-bodies area here. That Erich Mendelssohn architect had done work for the US Army in Utah that I’d only barely heard of the last time I’d search-engined for him, was news to me who’s read as extensively as possible on him. I think his real face is like Lepke Buchalter’s stereotype. The system’s persistence comes from the Autism’s obsessive-compulsive disorder, that they won’t quit their sneaking around in order to “take over” the Earth in order to have it to just their own selves with their “brain juice” narcotics system. I haven’t mentioned Joos Vijd, the donor of the Ghent Altarpiece, yet and am figuring that LBJ was his type and would come up when/if I get to Texas. Joos is probably the main figure of the whole G. Altarpiece that keeps coming up again and again. They’d “kept” a character like Mrs. or Frau Vijd at the library in wdc (sic for inconspicuousness-attempt on my part.)
Linda Lovelace; I’m trying to figure what her publicity had code-meant in 1972 and then that same with the “Deep Throat” syllables. Wiki says she’d passed but I’ll try to look it up again now and learn where she was from.

9/9/18, Sun.

Typical moral quandary I have to think out, that the clerk that looks like a stereotype for the brain -serum “conspiracy” of addicts and users or how her type fits into it and then did this scene at the counter so bad that I’d muttered that “… They’ve been using alot of drug addicts lately” in this Armageddon “Program,” but I didn’t see that I had a baggage tag for Atlanta until I was out by the bus and not till I got here to the hospital did I see there’s someone else’s name on a receipt-stub and now I found his phone number and was about to call him till I realized — you know, he might have my name and phone number. it seems like a standard pre-curse ritual for an excuse for later losing my bag of papers. When I call to inquire if this guy/or female possibly got his bag this stranger will have my phone number and name and it was given to him by this peculiar stereotype, an ordinary a seeming female “type” of face I’d seen on the way to that Kensington, MD horror-time and once in accompanying a temp. patient/client to NY Hospital, where I’d been born in 1955 somehow, and a small girl I can’t recall where we’d been acquainted, but in addition to the “narcotic” now it occurs that maybe they’re of the Charles Manson stereotype as I’d seen an odd boy outside the station and in looking into the “Lovelace” subject I’d spent yesterday reading about Linda L. (maybe born in the Bronx but then to Yonkers,) and this morning wanted to compare her boyfriend’s face with Manson but the search engine on this cellphone quit/went out. The guy in front of the bus station I’d considered might look like Stephanopoulos. The doctor here looked it up for me and Manson was born 1934. Linda L’s boyfriend would have been born around 1940. He passed (in California) 3 months after she died here in Denver in 2002 from a driving accident. I’ve never noticed anything from that Charles Pierce/Peirce written about in “The Metaphysical Club” and I won’t be able to check now. I was able to call up the blogsite but anything I try to look up erases the last item and then I wouldn’t have anything except the Internet not connecting type of those signs. In the meantime I asked the social worker and she said not to bother calling the boy’s number on the baggage ticket but I did and the number’s voicemail hasn’t been connected yet. I have a long way to go with the gmail I’d started yesterday morning and got off into the Watergate aspect and etc. My point’s that this “COPD” seems a Shahan-curse through my 2013(?) time at that “astronauts’ govt. agency” or administration, but h&p’ing all these subtle itsy details is more time than I have available probably.

9/10/18, FC#6 attempt

It’s set that I try to get on the bus again tomorrow, but 9/11 has become as a new phony “holiday” for this anonymous invisible torture; I hope they can control themselves.The 1962 -time stuff may or may not relate to the “FC,” French Connection/Bronx Connection of marketing brain serum from other people but after I’d jotted my sparse recollections I recalled this one more but a big trick-curse on myself:

9/11/18, Tuesday

There seems to be a script uber my little real life that’s calling for a problem with me about leaving this VA hospital on time today as it just got exacerbated by that the book finally arrived after a month and a day and a half, so that picking it up would require extra time, enough that I’m near-sure to be a disorganized mess for the baggage check-in and then boarding inconspicuously time. Nobody except whatever’s torturing me knows how bad I want to get started with that book… what I would typical gutter circus here go through to secure both it, that Limitless book by Glynn, Alan, name starting to worry me, and the bus trip ce soir, cette soir, etc. Leaving at 10am was comfortable before the call about the book and it’s 11:30 now, like a script with everyone saying — you must get out of here today and the delay is getting th — they called it off for today, I’d expected 2pm terror about the whole thing, what a relief to learn early.2pm, waiting for 4 of the tankettes and then to pack over and around them. There isn’t any way out of Denver except the Greyhound, flying overlooked….

9/21/18, friday pm

9pm, I have to wait till morning, unable to call up the “blogsite” since Saturday and still unable to do so, trying to send the 3 most-important bits:1- above all the book’s about that the system-addicts will lie till the Earth’s gone, they’re planeticidists, ….
2- I was the press-save Armageddon-gimmick long before the 2001 publication of the book, that it’s a part of the millennial or whenever Revelation-Armageddon and they’re continuously preparing fresh cover-up lies, the planeticidists are,
3- that “fraud-cousine” -attachment to the Armageddon “Program” might have “come from” ovae of Jacqueline Kennedy, that that’s how vicious all this is in reality, an example, like pitting mass-reproduced favorites females one after the other against me with the — etc., that this level of nonstop-torture bombardment isn’t imaginable or describable or believable, 25 years of the nonstop plus since 1960 or whatever set up for THEIR Armageddon, etc.
Also Dallas’ Jesse Curry is also the fraud-parent’s gene-type, so there are all kinds of those similar types around … that everything is real dangerous for any reality right now, real bad for anything like reality, — don’t keep using me as this LURE you rotten brain-eaters doing the “mindreading” off of me. — I have to take a break now, maybe sleep. I’m expecting a call and then delivery likely in the morning, of this oxygen business but the brain-eaters are “running this ‘show'” off of me and might have installed the equipment where they wanted me over a petroleum-making shelter that I hadn’t gotten into but I’m not far from there anyhow, am between there and the VA hospital, and there’s some partygirl-sounding “respiratory therapist” that sounds like is with the petroleum-interests, cannibals and brain-eaters that’s already called me about coming to this typically-cheap motel I just rented for one week for alot of twenty-dollar bills because of whatever exactly this oxygen-scam is … they are all over me, manipulating the timing to sabotage anything I try to do to get out of this (the) TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION “role” the brain-eating “Jomon” etc thought up, that I can’t get them so angry that they’ll get me locked into one of these/their hospitals, hit by a car again, etc for all their big powers over the whole Earth-planet etc….
9/22/18, Saturday, everything with the cellphone-to-blog seems back to normal but the situation seems more unreal than ever. I’ll try to find out where the Johnson (manned) Space Center is, haven’t been able to so far. I can’t get to a library today because of still waiting for the oxygen delivery and then it’ll be too late to try because of i couldn’t get the bus pass yet logistical complications and they close at 5pm and tomorrow it’d only be for a couple of hours but that branch has Glynn’s original “The Dark Fields” British 2001 publication of what now is the “LIMITLESS” novel, film, and then 2-season television program, me just catching on now and here near the longtime manned spaceflight center, which is what had required all the petroleum so badly but seems to have led to self-perpetuating brain-eaters that would rather Earth become extinct than go without their “fixes” of the serotonin or other of the brain chemicals.

There appeared to be maybe not any difference between the British “Dark Fields” and my “Limitless” copy except the book cover picture so I’d try to get a photo of that if I can get downtown tomorrow. This cellphone has nearly not any space left and I don’t know how to delete the applications I don’t require.
7pm, the space center is on the east side near Trinity Lake and it seems mostly Standard’s oil companies but Chevron I didn’t get to check yet: — also Standard.

9/23/18, Sunday

9am, as soon as I’m trying to think the invisible-torture starts in “musikal” time with that (standard I think) oxygen compressor/concentrator (con-sen-traitor/tray-ter) doing the “magic” glomming all over one of my ears with the Armageddon “save the world” or saving the world phrase till I’m yelling to not do that, meaning the glomming all over me but it sounds like I’m angry at anyones LURED for trying to “save the world,” that phrase shoved into my head like that sometimes hundreds of times a day and the catch-22 is that you’re forced to take brain-deadening “psychiatric medications” the brain-eaing sadists thought up if you/I try to discuss the situation with anyone or especially with anyone in the phony medical field. This is how they’ve been using/abusing me in conjunction with that Limitless novel and all whatever in Washington* all these years as this has been extemporized by the same “French Connection ‘magicians'” from circa 1962 all over me. While I typed that footnote about that I always mean WDC when/if I mention the place that glom-moaning singsong switched to its main standard terrorism and as I go to note it it gets “psychiatrically” worse, body-glomming on me with any shadowy female-blob calling itself the “Julie-ho,” Julie-whore character the Armageddon “Show” script claims I’m jealous of, and that escalates to the Armageddon and its then real-life TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION, so that I was sitting here on the side of the bed trying to figure what I could try to do with this day of this longtime world’s most tortured person that’s ever lived (more than twice over as I’m “pressed” all the time these decades of this script, etc.,) situation I’m totally alone and kept isolated with, not any normal contacts allowed me by the brain-eating addicts, with their petroleum riches, as I’d spent a little time yesterday trying to see if I could try to reach one of the petroleum businesses and its financing had come from one of the stereotypes of the “Shahan-Crowley” Pill-grim boy Armageddon off of me type, that these “mindreaders” have lots of time ahead of me for sabotaging anything I might try to think of, and they’re nothing but primitive perverts really. I can’t make it to the library today but I’ll try to get illustrations of the outlines if the state of Texas and the island of Hokkaido to show how similar they are, as I think these “magician” brain-eaters had been the “Jomon” culture of Japan discovered and befriended by the invading New World Autist-psychopaths who’d extincted the dinosaurs meant for our normal food and (flying) transportation. This “save” torture of sitting all invisibly all over me like this so I can’t move or do anything gets me angry so that I wish these perverts were all dead and they just do the same parasitisms over again each day.

* I always call DC Washington” unless I mean the nongovernment town, “DC,” and I’d call the west coast state “Washington state, Washington-state, as its tiresome that strangers always ask which one I’m talking about. The system likely might have had plans to rule from the state by the Alaskan pipeline time or some such machinations.

… I sent that because the “magic” disappears files if they get too long and then recalled that I’d started it because these bums have started harassing me by telephone, an obscene “joke” and then similar tricks and now there’s something on my text-message and I’m always kept to be alone by myself like this so I’d tried to start this file so I’d have “someone” to tell about anything scary to when I have to check what it is, sent at five a.m. — I hate to any further disorganize the blog but there are so many new details I should try to get on along with since these bums never let me do my own business, all my life swallowed into their stinking Armageddonplanet-ownership fun and games, really. Only any nice people get hurt out of all this so don’t fall for this scam in Houston, I only have ever had to get the torturers to quit their parasitism onto me, 25 years re-explaining that that is the first step or priority. not for anyone to “rescue” me because that’s how the LURE bums kill all the normal-type males, is the main gimmick/scam to stay away from/be avoided, I just have to get the phonied-up “visions and voices” with their narcotic second piracy everywhere and hired goons, etc., to let me function, and instead they’ve been doing this “press ‘save'” hoax behind my back (so to speak) all these years.
That reminds me that I want to send this to start the footer section on the book and it didn’t go through by the Messages last night so I’ll send this abbreviated-cover version for that now and then start a new gmail till I get around to the Julie/Sabin multipart subject. — that one with the building somehow, “magic” maybe, got in here accidentally and I might as well leave it because I’d taken it as I walked out of the Houston central library last week after getting the quick look at the 2001 British “Dark Fields/Limitless” with its abstract-like cover art based on muted upside-down skyscrapers like syringes, then there are all these distinctive-type skyscrapers and that particular one has all like points or arrowhead points on its top.

9/24/18, a Monday:

Of all the bad “difficulties” my worst is probably finding out, through search-engine reading, that the “Limitless” film and therefore television show people thought they’d made a drug movie, like the old “Up In Smoke” but a thriller instead of a comedy and I guess with a “modern” or high-tech -invented “drug.” They call them “drugs” because they’d “dragged” the victims into the kill-places from early on. I’d thought the film was an expose (expozay,) with the book perhaps even more so, which it is but that by default, etc. So I’m trying to cope with this realization that lots of these people’s “Armageddon” has been like a takeover the planet by the brain-eaters for their selves, that they’ve “won” that and can nearly almost be open about it as amongst themselves, it”s a done thing, etc., and that Houston is likely “Bush-44” territory, as 2001-08 had been like the worst of this torture-set, and maybe that’s why.

Tuesday, trying to figure how to proceed:

201809261319 — I just got that on the “Limitless” business, then “they” anonymouses, “deus ex machina,” cut the computer off just before I was about to leave for the day so I had to mention that there was that interference because I have to always worry that the system-parasites aren’t living by stealing every scrap of life I’ve got, this blog, because anything I’ve ever had this underworld has been suck-stealing to itself, is how they are now in so very much power over everything, etc. They had a character, same syndromes over and over as usual, sat at the terminal next to me yesterday from this “fraud-parent” whole stereotype — in fact now I recall I’d meant to note also that maybe I got scammed real bad today, went to a room for rent advertised in a free paper and the guy had me initial all these rules and then at the end I printed my name and he threw like a hissy fit and told me he wasn’t renting to me because of some silly reason but he was of a “type” like one of the fraud-parent’s’ 3 brothers, they’re 4 different types “ejaculation-donating brain-eaters” all those decades around WWII and down to today and have this massive underworld they’re some huge part of, so the guy pulled that act and I have to worry that the point wasn’t to make it look like I’d agreed to rent for the 90-day agreement and then I’d reneged, is what it might look like in the way that this sneaky “Armageddon Program” has been pulling all these decades just off of myself, because he’d said that if you leave early they’ll sue for the 3 months rent. Everything the system does is toilet-garbage so that might be some additional heaped on “performance-show,” that whole set of that type of horror-genotype, but I see that he’s one of the stereotypes and don’t hold that against an individual and I just hope that that wasn’t an excuse for more “script” to this underworld lies and doo-doo scam off of me. Also I should get mentioned that it seems inferred that there’d been prostitution in my past and there never was, that any of that is manufactured illusion by these “Jomon” directors of this underworld, its global-system. It’s only lucky that I’d never done that because we humans will generally try anything once to see what we think of it but I just never had taken any such payments or anything, but the “Armageddon Show/Program” seems to hinge on that as one of its “cornerstones” that it rests all the holocausting off of me on, calling me filth behind my back all these decades and I’d never taken these things as anything but humorous but with this “Limitless” realization I see that the bums actually took over the running of the planet from that “Bronx ‘French Connection'” whole underworld work set up, etc. I’m going to try to get some rest because tomorrow’s my last chance to find a room before losing the motel room.


“Program” directors can think up. (this probably got lost maybe)

On Sat, Sep 29, 2018, 8:26 AM kathleen foshay <pixisafe> wrote:

The evil Jew, Jomon-Sikhs, are crawling all over me, me now forced to walk by this flea market I suspect they just established yesterday near the new place’s bus stop. Taking notes usually causes the torture -party to become more cautious. Last night I’d noticed that “director” usual “Man In Oriental Costume” type was hovering a around with that innocuous act like not being harmful and I tried to mentally watch for how bad today then might coincidentally be.5:30pm, right off there was a little piece of cellophane on the dresser and that’s the “garbage-magic” the “Jew” always ritualizes by, plus 2 pieces of crap similarly on the walkway in, that the cellophane set off negativity expectance for what similar ritual signs there might be. In fact today’s the first time I’ve noticed a new invisible characterr, the affect of some Hasidic Jew that I’d seen on and off over the last year I was in Washington, a tall one that might be from the Theodore Herzl type, — just like that “Everyman” outdoor sculpture by Borofsky, a Hasid in outline, — and now that’s been added for this “Armageddon Program” circus-,holocaust off of me, with the little piece of cellophane as like a starter for the brain “juice” distribution business
Yesterday they had a guy blowing a shofar horn by the bus stop at Bellfort and Broadway while another one was yelling at a dragged-out-looking teenager, as the “show” exhibition off of me is gimmick-latching onto that this place is off of a street named Broadway, and I’d stayed at a flea-bag hotel on Broadway in Hasidic Williamsburg, Brooklyn, so the flea market then the shofar and now this hideous new character and all kinds of sneak-done difficulties for me around how they want to do their Armageddon off of this nonstop torture to myself.
11:30pm, I just fell asleep and “the animals,” the invisible Jomon affect , woke me so I notice some black ordinary car must have just parked across the little grass here, and then the “magic” torturers started terrorizing me with the molestation. I’ll have to try sleeping by sitting scrunched up on the floor. The filthy perverts always do this to me, 24 years. I think they watch pornography and then slaughter LURED people, generally.
8:20 a.m., long day of waiting to see what the oxygen-scam is going to do because communications are down, all the cellphone will do is draft notes I could send later. I’d spotted a. payphone from the bus and got off and it wasn’t working and I went

— (this is where the useful material had disappeared from, to be straightened out later… —

3:30pm, the “Jew” Armageddon visual is tearing me up st this Broadway and Bellfort, like huge numbers of Houston people or underworlders have been pore informed to “play along with” some light joke against me. Then I’ve just found or gotten 2 emails from the oxygen company where now it’s this sneak-terrorization because I can’t explain that their delivery person is one of the horror-stereotypes the brain-eaters use for this Armageddoning. That’s what’s so weird or odd or “mystery” about the book of Revelation, that its author-set was high high on eating/running other people’s brains. The oxygen company wrote that they’d given my email address to their stereotype delivery person and I’m afraid to read their email from today because it starts right out with that one’s name, typical system-type’s sneaky ways, then out here the Jew’s Jurassic Park-act to lots of these vehicles and the fraud-parent-faced stereotypes all over the place, all my resources sucked into monster-addict world’s profiteering off of me with their crap “show” extravaganzas on weekends, just to “big-kill” then on Sunday or Monday night usually, horror existence I go back to the room I’d rented for ahead of me for my evening and it’s always this life-sucking they do.

Maybe the cellphone’s suddenly working again but the useful file I’d sent yesterday, correcting the 9/28 that had gotten cut off and then adding the actual useful material, not just the complaints about the personal unprovable invisible tortures, seems to have disappeared, with its1-
bits about how the system seems to come from that Joos donor of the Ghent Altarpiece, down to Houston and today. I’ll see if this sends.

9/27/18, Thursday

I rented a room. Found one to rent… $90 each Thursday now. The parasites of course immediately went into action to start stealing everything anywhere around me even though everything already is all system, but they are … imbeciles force-ruling over the Earth so they have to keep gnawing as Earth normalizes wherever they’ve sucked dry and moved along from, giving them a continuous process of parasitism to do, etc., till there isn’t any planet left. Because I’m new I can never guess what was already there and what they just installed and I can only try to ignore everything and conduct my own business, just lucky I’ll have this book to take up slack in my spare time as I’m trying to ease this transition to another place all by myself and alone with the real end of the real planet, etc. The first thing I should get done is a letter to the Houston library, warning about this invisible-warfare off of myself, how they/it’d ruined the DC main library and branches, this brain-eaters’-conspiracy or what to call it.Twice they’ve “broken” the cellphone’s telephone to obstruct me from being able to find a room and then get this oxygen business moved now but I came back to the motel and got through on theirs. Now I have to wait till they actually pick up the VA-rented equipment. Anything around me gets the “narcotic”-addicts, serotonin-vampires, into sneaking around it activity, anything to please the Armageddon directors, so that some difficulty or another for me interferes, etc.
I expect, per my usual experiences, that this weekly room will make some sort of an example for the VA social worker for why I’m not in any hurry for this housing-help they’ve got, because I only get truck-chased out of anywhere that might be nice till I’m stranded somewhere the Armageddon monsters can make their evil use out of off of my alone out here oblivious and unawares, etc. self. To waste the one-time housing-help like that doesn’t do me any good. When they insisted I use it last time I got hit by that car and then after I was just kept surrounded by all these system-people till my time expired, stranded in what I call the inferno-making shelter till this retirement-social security was finally started and saved up a bit, leaving there this past February but always kept unable to find any contact for myself as this global-underworld’s “foil” maybe is the word for it, as I recall some odd ritual around me in Brooklyn in 2003.

5pm, the oxygen got picked up but it was a typical ordeal, which reminds me —
— reminded me that the guy would probably have delivered-back those empty six or seven tanks exactly like he’d picked them up and I’d have been stranded in the new inexpensive (cheap rooming house) without anything except this horrifying “con-sen-traitor” and the invisible-torture yanking-down my guts like I’m about to die for lack of this oxygen-gimmick the brain,-eaters thought up. I think this -gimmick onto me had come from that government “space” group that a reader might notice I’ve nearly never mentioned, just 1 or 2 of their public domain photos on the sidebar here, because I can’t afford any problems with anybody, and still don’t of course, have always got to try to stay real careful with everything, while the system is invisibly clobbering me on the head and having singsongs suck my face ecstatically and is sending strangers to do street performances in place of real life all the time, barraging me. Some of those things were done at the “space” place’s open-to-the-public library in 2013 and I suspect that’s the source of this oxygen con-sen-traitor new horror-dilemma for myself and so tomorrow I’d find myself without any of the regular portable tanks and left with the Armageddon killing me to have to turn its/their motor-noise machine on for their Armageddon “show,” longtime marathon- but secret “show” off of poor tiny me, is how this (book of) Revelation scam, goes. I have so much I haven’t been able to get jotted down about yet and then’m trying to get that first letter written, to figure how best to go about that. First some name and the address with the zipcode in case I can do it in longhand and mail it because that seems better than by email but “we” ‘ll see how it goes. The big deal about the room is I suspect the Armageddon had plans to do this nonstop 25-year or more marathon off of me out at a specific homeless shelter named “Star of Hope” where Hope was going to be “like” people “grown” wrongfully off of Bob Hope, rest in peace, like his USO shows but underworld and for the brain-eaters’ purposes. I woke up late this morning and reflected that there wasn’t any real choice but to go there this morning and apply for a spot and the invisible-torture started up with that save the world singsong and I tried something new and it worked. The oxygen company probably still has that address for me because the system-sneaks were pressing for me to go there so badly, the underworld always nixing anywhere they don’t like, where I might meet anyone normal-like that they can’t kill off if they want to, etc. “Star of Hope” is what the blurry blue print says, my camera being a very inexpensive one, on this transit map just released or published last month, the shelter only moving to that new location last year.


The “Jomon’s” Armageddon program is doing a standard bathroom trick. I will be forced to do the performance of going and knocking on the door of the shared quiet rooming house door, the others prepped for some scene and the invisible Jomon and its torture doing an unearthly-type shrieking emergency-alarn, siren, noise into my brain/skull.

— this is all somehow unarrived, i’ll try to go look for it, then stick them up in the “Journal pieces” page under the About section on the Navigation bar.

I’ve sent it 4 more times and only 2 blank files got to here so far. There isn’t any apparent reason for this except the usual on-purpose “Jomon” and “Babar” and maybe “fraud-family” Neanderthals’ doing this world-takeover off of me. I’m going to go ahead and store these under the Navigation bar anyhow I guess, but I’d sent the 2 files together, the 10/10 of yesterday and today and the 10/1 for the previous self-defense-type note jottings I can only do, etc., together to try to get these things organized, all these things of my own life and then the whole subject I’m trying to deal with here. I can’t guess why they cut it off after those few lines. It’s maybe a little longer than the below 10/10/18. — I think it’s alot longer than the below and maybe I’ll have to keep this here till I get some — never mind, that’s the gimmick, that Kathy Foshay is forced to always be trying to find any other person to give her assistance against this “Armageddon,” and this Armageddon-abuse has been going on maybe since about 1979, the LURING unsuspecting normal people, especially guys, to try to assist me and then “disappearing” them is how the system’s gotten to where it is today, the narcotics-addicted global-system people’s system, etc.

This’d arrived, the “re-sent 10/1/18, but the file’s maybe 2 pages about all this:

The “Jomon’s” Armageddon program is doing a standard bathroom trick. I will be forced to do the performance of going and knocking on the door of the shared quiet rooming house door, the others prepped for some scene and the invisible Jomon and its torture doing an unearthly-type shrieking emergency-alarn, siren, noise into my brain/skull…. I’ll try to figure how to get it printed from the cellphone or what. The modus operandi is that the system is solely looking for any way to stir up trouble around me, my inner-nerves or their underworld goings-on or anything, anything sometimes, less than a complaint about anything in that file that’s worse than in the 10/10 file, that they’re probably about the same.

** I’m going to re-type this on a post for now and then like add it to here later or some such.**

10/10/18, Wed., 4pm:

They’re tearing me apart for their murder-LURE as in all the years of the/this nonstop-torture. I’m trapped on a bus with the vicious gleeful sadism suck-destroying away….It’s all only personal sadism to me, then like the vicious insulting me gets the Jomon and their helper consortium high. There’s no description for this nothing to do with anything “planeticiding” modus operandi.
8:40pm, the “Armageddon Program” had a police car cruiser pulled up as I got back to the room with the invisible parasites torturing me insanely. I’d seen some useful illustration of this Armageddon-Jew but I won’t get a chance for consistent non-gutter time to get these things “accomplished” because of these parasites’ parasitism. They’re wasting the oxygen for their power-show over tiny real me. The way they do the torture in the libraries I couldn’t get chances to look at my list of things to do, everything to the Jomon-Babar and.narcotics-connsortium LURE stolen from my resources.
The torture is ascribed to, camouflaged as, difficulty breathing/low oxygen but its really always the underworld’s yanking on hallucination-made ropes all over me as they parasite-live by an insult “show” or sado-entertainment off of me as their LURE-gimmick, and today was, is, a 10th of a month, and that’s like a. “holiday” for their sadist selves but as a “normal” I can never take this insane horror seriously enough and I went about going to the library downtown and at the Metro rail station the torture started doing creepy tricks and I wound up having to use the whole tank of oxygen as the evil got into its unprovable invisible power-show as then I wanted to find a way to clean this room floor under this big bed here, all dust and old cockroach nests that I have to get cleaned up so I can sleep on the floor next to it where I:m less of an interesting target for these invisible to me monsters and their remote Armageddon directors. Even though the torture is phony it’s placated by the expenditure of the oxygen so I’d had to keep turning it on increasingly all day and that’s part of the upcoming “show” or feces-exhibition of me, feces-level, its plans for this weekend, stink about not enough, emergency, gimmick off of me while really doing their sick Armageddon this way, to run it low for the drama of the refill delivery on Monday, Armageddon “Program” off of me.
At the metro rail they’d done a scene-set with that “Lepke Buchalter” type that I thought was idea of reference or what to that I’d have to go to the Kroger store on the way back today, but a real filthy-creepy little sneaky scene-set, then there was a Babar that tossed the word she at me as it walked by like giving a tour of the library to about 6 overweight people, like doing that LURE off of me but less slyly, more like making believe I’m aware of and complicit that they’re doing an underground exhibition of me. Then anything is only like a directed-scene around me, like each place I go to is mise en place but increasingly vicious as the monsters build their lie-stories and other “Armageddon” apparatus up for their brain-eating purposes around me. I just keep saying, I wish you were dead, “Jomon,” Jew, since they keep the nonstop suction and its noises always going so talking out loud, muttering, is my only self-defense against these sado-tortures
Get off of me you retarded animal. They never care about anything except staying high and they’ve ‘grown” the world population in their image of how they can always stay high for themselves.
Like my life isn’t difficult enough, the Jew-system then lives off of it. And then they sabotage me, the rooming house toilet all mise en place s***-stained for that episode off of my day, scene, curse, ritual waiting like that.
5:40a.m., the selfish beasts aren’t letting me get my own business taken care of, like yesterday I wanted to get the change of address card done, I have to check by internet some detail, and now they’ve, anonymously, invisibly always, woken me when it’s still dark out, and they generally or 30+% of the time have some scene or trick ready for when I have to use a/the toilet. Today it might be the standard scam where they want me to be scared so that that can be twisted into excuse of a “kill-spree” onto normal males, they pretend that I’m scared all the time, and then they do tricks around me to set up for that. like right now with waking me into a set up scene that as usual I can’t describe while they have me surrounded by their superb psychopath selves’ listening/watching invisibly all over me. The impression is that they’re slaughterers of people who keep me as an amusement, a pet toy to watch while they’re supervising the morning slaughters and that that’s why I’m always invisibly forced out of sleep before it’s light out, and then there’s some “trick” around the requisite toilet trip that my reaction to can be twisted for murder-excuse against whoever the current prey. Besides that that’s the longtime impression from all those years in the Washington 2nd and D Sts. shelter and often and now, there was some peculiar incident early on in this, then, “Armageddon Show.” I can’t explain the whole background set up and it’s bad enough these monsters are now in like the “babysitting story-telling mode” of this sneaky Armageddon torture. I’m going to have to make a rule that I’m not to be woken before it’s light out anymore. … try to make a rule…. I’d made that rule somewhere once before and it’d worked for awhile.
I guess it was early in 1994, I’d gone to San Francisco to see if I could find the guy that had set me up with this trick to believe that he might “try to save the world,” back in 1979 and then in 1992 these invisible things started and 1993 sprang into a vision and voices singsong and dance “spirit” cartoon about saving the world in what I thought was saving it from having that Revelation Armageddon happen, where it was/is the opposite all along, etc. In 1994 I’d gone homeless to San Francisco and there was/is a 24-hour hamburger place, a Carl’s Jr., on Market Street around the Civic Center and I’d tried to survive a few overnights by sitting there with coffee and there was a wild-looking “Jewish” character that I realize now was some symbol-ritual for being an underground slaughterer. He wore things that maybe were meant to look like John the Baptist in filthy sackcloth and did some routine of going to the men’s room acting crazy. He didn’t speak but we could see each other and I eventually found a shelter space up the street there at that St. Anthony’s. His crazy-act, besides the dirty rags, was a stabbing at the air repeatedly before going into the toilet area scene. I couldn’t guess if he was a victim or psychopath and in this long retrospect I guess he was ritualizing being a slaughterer and was perhaps “teaming up with” me through hallucino-think underworld ways.
Before that I’d been in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and had a job in a pharmacy that had turned inexplicably sour so that I had to give it up but they got a copy of everything I’d written on all of that “world save” belief-set trick that was/is all over me but they didn’t discuss any of the material and I’m trying to recall if that was before or after the Marcy Projects rabbi interview and 2-day odd typing job. And that led to rampant computer virus and cleared the way for the internet. “Limitless” mentions that internet started with ARPANET, which the cellphone just made all capital letters, and I tried to start reading about that yesterday. It started at UCLA and I’ll check if that’s the same one connected to the start of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, that arpanet (I corrected the auto-correct because of fearing conspicuousness a ndrome I’ve got, all the big-deal bums this system supports,) likely evolved from that. That professor who’s last name begins with K., connections to his friends I’d check. Frank Molina’s mentor.l, easy name but I did n’t have a internet to look the 2 questions up by till and if I can get to a library. Kar- something, from e. Europe and rocket thermodynamics and such.Theodore Karman maybe. The arpanet to internet had maybe evolved out of his JPL work and brain-eating contacts, but where did the DOS evolve from. I think the big computers still run on that OS maybe, maybe IBM’s Operating System.
Yesterday I’d forgotten to bring copy machine change to get me started on this mail and paperwork I have to get don’t. These parasites have got to quit this invisibly running my life. They set up Armageddon ideas based on my figuring my errands and if I change my plans or there’s normal real-life inconvenience, as with a female living in a rooming house with a shared toilet they get out of control for their slaughter-plans, like right now they’re using some new smoke alarm noise to reverberate to the top of my head as though “rushing” me to quit this and go get on a bus. Since the day’s messed up and therefore short I think I’ll leave the heavy oxygen tank here. — It was CalTech the JPL had started with. — I recall doing alit of reading about the punch cards around the early rocket science business. The “bus” in business was just pointed out by the autocorrect, most Autistly. — I found von Karman’s papers are at CalTech but I don’t see anything about UCLA specifically.

10/16.18, 6:30am, criminal garbage get off of my private parts you filthy garbage.

8pm, illegally-grown psychoto-psychopaths like it’s some trivial matter, thrown all over to terrorize me by, they did again at this closest local library branch. All of them have these headless female mannequins you see when you walk in or out of the door, then they did 2 phone tricks while that fraud-parent face was sitting there doing its act to sneak-horrify but really it’s terror to me, where “phone” is the old Greek word for brain, and there’s scarier more about the underworld “limitless” bums’ act I’m too alone with the Jew and what crawling all over me to be able to mention.The monsters also seem to be turning on and off the cellphone’s internet ability based on their use of me as a, the, LURE, that it had suddenly started working I’d noticed on Saturday or Sunday and now I can’t even get the weather report again anymore. I’d had to stay in Sunday and then the oxygen delivery wasn’t till 4pm, but since the internet was on I’d stayed busy looking up things and I think the “Armageddon Program” LURES by quietly spying on whatever I’m reading and spreads rumor that I’m busy trying to “save the world” and the monsters attract unsuspecting people, also with “the” pornography and any other of the marathon’s gimmick’s, then lock in and “disappear” the people for the “harvested” “human resources” murders of ourselves, etc., is why I think I’d suddenly had the smartphone working like usual for those 2 days.
Then this whole set about my 2 summers in Ireland and also then its connection to this “Limitless” novel started dawning on me this morning I have to try to unload through all this “invisible” torture.
10/19, forgot the 2001 Anthrax
from the bread at Kroger’s
10/19/18, Fri., scum of the earth all over me all day and right now, turning on the molestation as soon as I turned off that little oxygen-level reader and turned to go to bed, this filthy garbage all over me instead of a guard so I could function unmolested.
3am, the monsters woke me at midnight and I’m still awake, a standard trick to spoil my daytime.
10/24, 1:30a.m. the relentless beasts have been adding a little filth each day to anywhere I go all my life, here in this rented room about 30 days or so now and it’s obvious that they’ll just continue this feces polluting pattern. There’s not any intention of doing anything but to keep getting away with the brain-eating global-system and doing it off of this invisible-to-me Armageddon “program,” the Jew-affect gruntingly spying on my each word and then they use when I send it to the blog as a violence excuse hissy-fit behind my back, and then I’m supposed to feel guilty for whatever tragedy they brewed up and used me as an excuse for. I was thinking that that Abu Ghraib scandal might have been for a substitute for the scandal of the truth about all this to me. That whistleblower was really spreading the dirty pictures of the girl that was then scapegoated for the prisoner abuse but those were these same Jomon and Babar’s largely involved, more or less the Autists for intents and purposes.
10/24, worse toilet-stuffing, a late-night smoke alarm without anyone to turn it off for about 10 minutes trick and now, 8:30pm I get here and the front door is locked and then the guy that works here went into a jump off like crazy ludicrous routine of accusing me of anything around the trick smoke alarm horror-incident “Armageddon Program” faked scene and I realize that all those Hollywood actors were ways of keeping illegally “grown” people occupied, where they’d be just hanging around without anything to do in this unnatural filthy system. And this is a Wednesday, where generally Tuesday and Wednesday are the least of the murder-slaughter LURE sabotage work all over me, this seeming the underneath’s warm-up for their weekend off of my uninvolved unfortunate self, this also “rushing” me to have to try finding somewhere else to sleep asap, where I can’t get much about these animals’ leadership done, forcing the TPE by keeping me in one phony personal emergency after another on top of all this filthy garbage invisibly crawling all over my skull, etc.
10/25, Thurs., 530am, the LURE monsters are all over me, in what is nearly an obvious “voices” torture, with this “talking to myself” gimmick of these 24/7 “2 little retarded girls” as though versions of a young me, nonstop spewing crap Into into my ears, this morning forcing me awake by force-droning a trick-phrase through my head to I guess the lie-effect that it’s me thinking that — or to cause me to think-say/respond “Drop dead, animals, get off of me you retarded diseases parasites,” and the like. It’s a little more specific and machine-like, forcing the specific. full phrase I-want-to-want-to-save-the-world through my head maybe more than a hundred times already, which forces me to try to stanch each intrusion with a get-off-of-me phrase as several of the other invisible tortures are also always going on simultaneously, the various male affects gloaming all over while I’m doing this, but most worrisomely that the (swine) monsters are still terrorizing me with this slug-pneumonia illness by some standard “machine-done trick” to make me feel as though I have a sore throat as though I’m “coming down with something” so that from the terror-panic fear of that slug-pneumonia I feel forced to take one of those pills every morning still, the allergy antihistamine Claratin loratadine that inexplicably seems to be the only defense against the horror-illness, that I’d had stages of about 70 times while in the Washington shelter most of the millennium so that this bearing down on to try to cause me to develop/catch it again makes me feel horrified because I’m too impoverished and alone so that I have to go out every day and that’s the excuse for the system’s illness a spreading off of me back in the 1990s of this and also I generally catch it in connection to its being used on the LURED people, in either direction, any excuse for spreading that invisible bio-warfare.

5 p.m., then I’ve spent my whole day looking for something obscure about Theodore Herzl, have spent five straight hours looking and re-looking all over the place for some “play” I’d found in some anthology of his material. There were 2 books, at the library they’d wrecked, etc., etc., for all this torture, speaking of them wrecking that library, that they’re repeating one of those patterns by using a pile driver on some project they’ve, the invisible torturers, have started just up the street from the rented room, that sound a horror-recollection from that huge building-set they then made next to the library, on the 10th Street side, NW. I feel like I have to explain how come I haven’t gotten any of my intended work done for today, plus I sent this where I try to keep notes when the torture gets out of hand but it’s all horror, like walking in the “magic realism” of that Limitless book except that they’re making their Armageddon off of this “artwork,” as with also the Matejko whole subject, where those 2 subject really are inter-connected, the book and the staircase characters where the fraud-parent’s type is at the top and the rest of them are all over me and the ones like the collection of the stereotype that I’m working on currently, ones like Buddy Hackett and other notes I’m also supposed to be working on but I spent the whole day yesterday just doing that and my notes on my notes on the Limitless book are really what I want to do and get over with. (So I could get on to some less “magic” realism around here.)

(it’s hallucino-“magic”)

Torture overload, 10/21/18, Monday

This “Armageddon Program” the “LIMITLESS!”-believing brain-eaters have been running off of me for decades is getting again beyond my control, them doing things like stuffing the toilet twice this morning, moving a copy of the fraud-parent to near me to drive me out of my mind and place I found to sleep at night in, etc., plus the main point is that I haven’t been able to finish describing or explaining this latest of the slug-pneumonia attacks they are perpetrating, still keeping up with this invisible hovering all over me to seek excuses for infecting me with that illness so they can claim that I spread it to everywhere. I’m sure it’s very similar to how they’d switched from the DOS disks to the internet, claiming that I spread viruses I’d been used for also. Right after the 9/11 (2001,) in October they pulled that Anthrax news story and that was all about me doing bicycle deliveries all over Washington and to that Nuclear Regulatory Commission, NRC and the Capitol and all kinds of places, that this sneak-Armageddon is overloading me still, making my morning a near-impossible horror for anyone to be able to and to bother living through, crawling all over me all of the time, molesting me to keep me on an edge of hysteria most of the time, and I’m only trying to take care of my real-life necessities plus do this little bit with using the novel “Limitless” as an example that these people are first and foremost “addicts,” that they think in terms of little except their supply and then what money they can make off of the “narcotic” of other people’s inner-brains inside our heads, are looking to kill us to squeeze the serum out of our brains so they can get high plus sell the extra and do those things in order to take over the world in order to have it to themselves. I’ve traced this to congenital Autism since the set of accidents that had led to them developing the Autism, the repetitive selfishness, repetition for selfishness, selfism, it basically is. I’m going to try to put a WARNING down in the footer because as I’m going over this “Limitless/The Dark Fields” novel for the 3rd time now it’s becoming “clear” (a slang term for brain-serum, clear, sunshine, ice, etc., me only unfortunately having to use those words, “needing” to use words for real-life also and the system confusing their slang with real life all the time, etc.,) it’s becoming clear that the system may have published that novel with the intention of there’s being a celebratory follow-up to it that the protagonist survives after all, whereas the ending leads you to figure that he figures these are his last words and he’s living them because he’ll be dead soon or just in case he’s dead soon and he seems to haven’t made any plans for his near future like for food or any survival necessities, etc., me sort of worried that the system might be hoping to release a sequel about how great their “smart pill” users are, running their world in virtual-reality like that, especially since the death of the character that left all the MDT-48 that the protagonist then lived on was never explained, that it could have been a “trick” pulled by the multi-national pharmaceutical conglomerate or what that is trying to create that MDT-smart pill, like Albert Hofmann had worked-up the LSD-25 and it was marketed from about 1946 to 1966 when it got outlawed in California, right around the space-venture pay-off or not time finale of July 1969. Also, they keep ruining my work on my real attempt at this blog by creating these “emergency” situations for me all of the time, as with the “tricks” of stuffing the plumbing 2 times this morning and moving a fraud-parent-face or -type to where I’d see and be freaked out by it because the fraud-parent was always a psychopath to have had to be living in the same apartment with till I turned 18 and could leave, because that’s what that type is. In fact it’s one of the main efforts I’m trying to get to, with still having to research and describe and explain this old “Jadwiga” painting by Jan Matejko that I’ve got at the near-top of the sidebar now because it relates to one of my major difficulties but then I’ve got all kinds of those “staircase” characters all over the place now in real life plus in that I’m noticing alot of parallels between the Irish writer that passed around 1964, Brendan Behan, and the author of the “Limitless” novel plus the World’s Fair in 1964 comes up in the novel and that brings up all kinds of the inter-connections like with the NY mayor Fiorello LaGuardia and Buddy Hackett and this guy that had tried to kidnap me in 1964 or 1965 and then lurked around the neighborhood alot till I realize anymore that he and the fraud-parent were likely associates and that’s because they’re of the types that are descended from these “staircase” characters in the late King Casimir III the Great of Krakow, and me trying to explain that they’d likely gotten to Krakow to take over the castle by leaving Siberia via one of the rivers that goes up to the Arctic Seas and then travelled west and found the Vistula River and tracked that till they found a safe place to parasite-invade, then Casimir went into “growing” people and then the “Ghent Altarpiece” was like a showcase for the grown-people and whatever this world-takeover that they’re doing had represented to them, probably retribution for the lies that that little Pill-grim boy and ancestors had been telling about the normal people since the invasion of the Troy area. I have to try to keep up with some of the real work I’m requiring to do from myself, and that was/is supposed to be trying to find a copy of President Johnson’s opening day speech at that 1964 World’s Fair, just to see if he mentioned anything about the space venture or future plans. “It’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after all, and a smile means the same thing to everyone, it’s a small, small world!”

File:Unisphere, 1960.pngA crane eases the last segment of the Unisphere into place to complete the structure, which served as a symbol of the World’s Fair in Flushing Meadow in 1960. Constructed of stainless steel, the job took 110 days. — to Wikipedia from Khan.saqib01, taken 13 July 1960, I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby publish it under the following license: This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license. File:Unisphere in summer.jpg

The Unisphere, built for the 1964 New York World’s Fair, in Flushing Meadows Corona Park, Queens, New York City; to Wikipedia from Beyond My Ken, 28 August 2010, I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby publish it under the following licenses: Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts. A copy of the license is included in the section entitled GNU Free Documentation License. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International3.0 Unported2.5 Generic2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic license.

— See how the Earth is actually “crooked” or askew, tilted; I’m trying to explain that that’s from the original Prehistoric accident sets, first the “disobedient” ignoring nature’s “signs” not to try to go east and north and east to fruitlessly try to catch the sun, but the early group wouldn’t be stopped and wound up snow-bound. The cold parts of this living planet are required for all the chemistry that goes into evolving a living planet, they’re a necessitated fact of life and these new-walking early humans insisted on trying to get to where the sun can be touched and owned! and they wound up nearly dying off but made it, I figure, to the safety of dinosaur nests along the Missouri River somehow but then the 2nd accident-set started when they wouldn’t get out of those dinosaur nests after healing, they’d become addicted to being fed that dinosaur-baby food gotten by the adults from the nearby plants and whatever all contained evolving psychotropic hallucinogenic chemicals. Then they went to war so they’d be the ones instead of the dinosaur young to be being fed and way down the line then they went to war against the humans also, passing down their genes since the first accident-set of getting snowbound, which is when I figure the brain damage had easily occurred to newborns. But the Earth had been set askew, maybe by trying to keep them warm and alive or how precisely the dramas had worked out to where the planet had had to be tilted, possibly to try to get them to quit setting fire to women and children after they’d met the Old World peoples and started trying to replicate the cooking of normal animal meat-food but had this Autism brain-damage and everything became wildfires and then pyromania and terrorisms through to now, — small humor, through to this morning and stuffing the toilet just to cause me any sort of difficulties so I can’t think straight or get my necessities accomplished so I could try to keep up this “mission” to try to reach a responsible adult to assist first little me and then perhaps eternity out of this “pointless” horror, that’ll wind up in TOTAL PLANET EARTH EXTINCTION and there’s nowhere else to go but they won’t quit making believe and doing this “virtual reality” like this “Limitless” novel describes alot of. The biggest point of the “Limitless” novel is that the “users” are primarily addicts who will do anything to keep getting their supply but the secret is that their “smart drug” -supply comes from the same sort of sadism that had caused this tilting of the planet, and they ignore that obvious “sign” that something is wrong, as with the recent 1947 breaking of the “sound barrier” sonic barrier they’d early called it, that that was really the seal around our atmosphere and instead of responsibly facing these errors of the past they’re doing this idiocy with this oxygen business to me and to lots of other people that they don’t like because we wouldn’t approve of their brain-eating or the unnatural “growing” of people from disembodied reproductive parts, like the examples in this “Jadwiga” painting, where those little characters grew into big brutes that are all over the place, and little “goon” characters in the way of our being able to responsibly see reality.

File:1964 New York World Fair Stamp.jpg1964-1965 New York World’s Fair U.S. postage stamp – issued 145,700,000 on April 22, 1964 New York, NY – U.S. postage stamp illustrates the fair’s main mall, including the Unisphere and “Rocket Thrower” – Designer: Robert J. Jones – Engraver: A. W. Dintaman, Bureau of Engraving and Printing; Imaging by Jphill19; U.S. Post Office, 22 April 1964; from — has a nice copy of President Johnson’s 1-page speech at the opening/dedication of that World’s Fair. has a printed copy of it but I can never figure about these newspapers and their copyright obsessions; I have the invisible “Armageddon Program” brain-eaters’ torture all over my skull disapproving of anything I think or do and the NY Times articles the torture always bothers me about making copies of, but it’s a nice speech and is probably only otherwise available through the Lyndon Johnson Presidential Library’s website. Then, I almost never have time to watch anything on the YouTube but I think their material is like Wikipedia’s okay for distribution for normal purposes so here’s Pres. Johnson’s speech which I’d seen on TV because the fraud-sister and I were home sick with chicken pox but don’t have time to watch this copy of it myself yet: (=Pres. Johnson’s speech.)

My caution is that a major crime had occurred nearby the previous month and I think it was probably a hoax, possibly set up by Lenny Bruce, and that it also then ties into all of this with both my specific difficulty-set and then the whole underworld global-system brain-eating dependence difficulty that’s bringing us to the total planet extinction. The crime was the March 1964 murder of Ms. Catherine “Kitty” Genovese, — it was probably the same modus operandi as however the system had switched some other girl hit by a car for me a block away hit by a car, in November 2015, that it’s the same “hoax” of similar-body switching, — and that’s likely what the murder or both the murders in the “Limitless” book had riddle-style been done by, — but my right-now difficulty is with the non-receipt of mail by myself for these 14 years of writing those letters and then flyers for assistance in Washington, DC and then since Sept. 2015 when I started this blog to where I’ve just been warning people not to try to reach me but I never know what all the system-goons have been doing creeping all around my unawares back all my life and specifically with this “Armageddon Program” way since around 2005 and the “Armageddon Show” it had seemed like since 1992-93 and then of course back to all my “fraud-family” unfortunate little life and that 1962 phony “French Connection” real business ending with slightly involving me as a lucky charm onto the photographed suitcases, etc., that the brain-eaters, the only terminology I can think of so far that isn’t too ambiguous, like brain-addicts could even get twisted by them since we’re all “addicted” and loving of our own brains, etc., that brain-eaters is less twistable by the incorrigible sneaks. The point about the Kitty Genovese murder is that it was made into a big scandal about the Apathy of New Yorkers by one of the little “staircase” type of people that are then possibly linked even into this new mailing address I’m trying to get secured. “It’s a small, small world!” that the song and repeated phrase gets grating as it’s done nonstop by the little doll-characters. Kitty Genovese’s murder was made into a big story by A.M. Rosenthal and I’m saying that he was one of these “staircase” types of people that I believe came from Casimir III of Krakow, and then that Rosenthal had “donated” or contributed or what his own “grown” offspring-descendents infiltrated into society, and I have to leave it that that is an example of the “types” that the system uses and is using all around specifically me, with this longtime Armageddon-Revelation difficulty-abuse-set I’m always all alone with, etc. In mentioning this now I recall that Rosenthal had shortly thereafter had a girlfriend named Katharine or Katherine Balfour, according to that “Fit to Print” biography, and that I suspect that that might have been Ms. Genovese in a camouflaged life. Then that recalls to mind that I think the underworld had set her to sidetrack some nice little blonde girl away from the sight of Bob Dylan, so he wouldn’t get sidetracked from the system’s plans for himself. I never yet got to try to learn more about the blonde. The little book write-ups on the scandal barely mention her and that her last name began with a Z. and that maybe she was living in Far Rockaway, in the very south of the Queens borough where the murder and then the Fair had taken place, me figuring that the murder had been perpetrated as a ploy for getting more “security” guns and underground operators to the Fair site and because Ms. Genovese couldn’t figure how to get away from the blonde she’d befriended and so Lenny Bruce, who’d used to take the Long Island Railroad through that little Kew Gardens train stop on and off all his life, had come up with that idea. And that Mssr. Francois Scaglia from the 1962 French Connection bust was in some new courthouse jail just a couple of blocks from Ms. Genovese and Ms. Z’s little apartment.

Mssr. Scaglia from Corsica in the line-up photo from a “French Connection” bust, I don’t recall which of the 2 right now.

Plus they’d broken my cellphone temporarily again this morning when I’d gone to try to make some notes on this “slug pneumonia” sabotage they’re always doing off of me, this morning, so that on top of all the other difficulties then I was cut off from communication while trying to get out just to do this today, not this mishmash it’s become though. I’d sent a reply to one of those no-reply emails from Google. It probably won’t get anywhere but it didn’t go off till just now, from the library’s wifi. They’d sent me maybe a slightly different security alert from the ones they send when I check my email from these library terminals, maybe just that standard type, I really hate to get off track like this and pause to look at the original email that I’d only found last night and then had explained — oh, I recall, they sent an email to my cellphone email that someone had checked my email account from what was this library’s computer. My problem is that that email account never received any replies to all this “Universe Rescue” letter-spreading I’d done in 2016 or all the previous years of letter-writing about the Prehistoric-descended Autism-psychopathy is taking us to TPE by using little me for that Revelation’s “Armageddon” threats, for fulfilling those, hundreds of letters I’d sent to all around and, no regular mail to speak of and then in 2014 I was forced to get an email because that’s the way everyone lives and I was forced into it but never got any replies, including the email address in the letter-writing to all over the place again then. By 2016 it had gotten really scary with some horror mailing-address I only hadn’t any choice about and covered by all these same stereotypes and I got scared and opened a separate gmail account for the UniverseRescue and I’ve still not received anything but have barely used it because it isn’t safe to get in touch with me yet, and the other day I checked the first email account from here and the company uber alles sent a security alert to the cellphone’s gmail address, me trying to keep all these things separate because I’m totally privacy invaded by the brain-eaters’ global-wide system and its goons like the “donations” from the fraud-parent and the brothers or fraud-brothers in reality of the fraud-parent that I can’t discuss for fear of retribution retaliations more than I’ve already got, so I didn’t know how the email/gmail people knew to send an email to the cellphone gmail-address that the little-used first email address had been checked by an unknown terminal, and even though it’s maybe a I’d typed a mention of that in the reply to the email area and it didn’t get sent till just now when I was finally able to try to figure why the cellphone won’t work and call up the mail application, then it just went off now. That could be why they’re making the cellphone broken or it could be some other anything. They temporarily break it sometimes by not accepting the little password I have to key-in 2 times to get to the opening screen. Then sometimes they break it in other ways, temporarily so far, and I never know what kind of an invisible torture these bums are going to be doing next but there’s always something. At 7:30 a.m. there was the toilet and I managed to get that okay but that’s attached to one of the system’s other toilet-tricks and all my time gets wasted with this “complaint writing” that has nothing to do with anything, when my purpose is to discuss things like that the Earth really is askew because something or things had gone wrong, and we’re in our advanced times now and don’t have to go extinct if a little effort were permitted.

LURE WARNING 10/18/18:

I’m waking with the first sign of that “slug-pneumonia” and will try to put a link to my previous attempts to explain this major sneak-holocaust or mass-murder method, a standard operating procedure, and then that the only medicine for it seems to be over the counter Claritan/loratadine which is because the system translates that to “meaning” LURE-at-a-dine, “at” somehow being one of their brain-eater slang words or phrases maybe from a foreign language. Yesterday they’d done a sneak-ritual with leaf-blowing Babar’s when I did my change of address right outside the VA hospital and today I have an appointment there so that that’s what this sudden waking with a teensy sore throat is about, standard LURE off of me practice where they pull/do a long underworld entertainment, lock in the unsuspecting and release this “slug-pneumonia,” the locked in left to die, but also there’s first just saying that I’m spreading it to any contacts I have, which is why I’m forced now to open this loratadine my container had been switched for when I’d gotten stuck at that “Shahan” resthome in July.–

1pn, this is really bad but I don’t want to waste the time going back over this or leave it here on the front page, will have to try to figure out out. All the libraries here are closed tomorrow with little warning so I’m not sure how I’ll fill the day and I’m not sure how much time I’ll have today for getting back to here, trying to work on the Limitless notes right now.

h– the further pdf on “Dubos,” Dr. Rene Dubos, doesn’t come up if you click-on it but the other one is okay. The little medical appt. went okay, considering what a joke I am to the whole world of strangers. I can’t guess what they do with the LUREs, that I send these WARNINGs in attempt to try to damage-control the numerical intake of people, and then I’d said I’d go back tomorrow for the prescription-pick up because I know the libraries are all closed on Friday mornings except for the main branch downtown, but that’s going to be closed tomorrow also, for a Staff Training for all the HPL.

Ovae purloining; the perforation-dots are fetishes, a “magic” belief-way to fetch things to one’s self.


A standard little pad, but I think the “dots,” as in the enlargement on the right, are only in hope of fetish-drawing ovae onto the pads.and, from “How to Deep-Freeze a Mammoth,” by Bjorn Kurten, 

There are ways of eating brains and there are ways of eating brains.

I’d sent a copy of that illustration with that “open-minded” way of attempting to try to start some little dialog on the subject, that perhaps life’s situations force everyone into different ways and there’s little else one can do in a forced circumstance, as a “Father’s Day” card to the fraud-parent in 2006, realizing about the fraud-biology situation only in 2008 then, as with the above example of ways of sneak-getting ovae and then those wind up being gestated by other unawares females, everything all mixed up. I’ll try to straighten this blog out a little more on Saturday, this being Thursday now and the libraries all closed for Staff Training tomorrow unexpectedly, as I never know what all this Armageddon is doing as I’m mostly-innocuously doing little piddly things like this, and I’m trying to work on getting things upgraded. The footer too I’ll have to leave like it is because I don’t think it looks that bad under the circumstance of the subject matter-set.

10/20/18, Saturday, the monsters put me through 3 traumas yesterday,

1- something that seems like a microcosm example of a standard big medically-related crime I can’t describe yet for time constraint

2- one of their standard “magic” tricks of embarrassing me at a cash register because one of my items had rung up wrong but I couldn’t figure what the problem was and it involved maybe the last of the food stamp allotments that had been enabling me since 2008

3- a scene that’s too difficult yet to describe involving someone “made” from fraud-family ovae probably, a young girl being taken advantage of by this deviant Armageddon. After that there were some further difficulties, like the big Armageddon free for all off of my weekend and any resources for this anonymous set of torturers using me as a LURE-gimmick.