3/2/19, Saturday, today is particularly bad invisible-tortures. Then there are details like that I can’t bring up this horror that seems to be involved in this book here on Autism, that when I’d read it at the MLK library it looked clear that the baby was being molested, purposely having his private parts aroused and
then when I look at photos of the author while trying to do this stereotypes area in the footer section “I can’t help but notice” that the author looks completely “Jomon,” looks exactly like what I’m saying the brain-eaters look like, so how can I mention or include him in on this TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION reality group I’m trying to say “cooked up” this global-system for nothing except so they can enjoy the “high” off of the brain-eating/-running.
3/13/19, Wednesday, their behaviors all all over me are too disgusting. Now I found that that “Breakshot” book is likely attached to all this Armageddon off of myself, and that the word/name Breakshot seems mostly connected to pinball machines. The filthy thing, the sight of that picture, like that c*** is all over my life and then I have to put the photo too so people can figure what I’m trying to communicate, that those bums probably only had come from being primitive on Japan and they’ve devised some sewer-oriented system that they’re at the brain-eating “magic” head of and they’ve been living off of doing horrors to me, as how they’ve devised their own world-takeover, by making me an example of garbage, while they yet live off of me too, and then the extent of this time of this 24/7 live-on parasitism and then that there’s not any interest in getting off of me ever, they’re just killing me. Like right now they have some guy behind me making noises like the fraud-parent so that I either sit here terrorized or turn around to see what the face is like and can then relax because it’s only coincidence, — but then if it does have a “fraud-parent-face” then I wince and accidentally blurt something like “Ugly,” and it’s ugly inside that I’ve only ever meant, that the filth of lying to and then — it’s so bad right now it’s seeming like “the Jew’s” whole cannibalism system has got me like a linchpin of itself, they fight so hard to keep all normal people away from me where I might be able to get out of this nonstop invisible-torture by just any teeny assistance all these years, that it’s like they’re fighting for all their “kind,” all the black-haired people they’ve been “growing” all over the planet, this/these things, “the Jew” lives-on me and I get all these big sneaky assaults, all kinds of them exploding onto tiny me while I try to live. Today I woke with putting together some of how this Breakshot book really does seem interconnected to this “Armageddon Program” of all these years in Washington, like a cover-excuse ritual for the “why” of the Y2K, why all this invisible-abuse horror all these decades, and then there was some horrible typically filthy “script” scene at the place I’d found the room to stay in, which included locking the door, which is like a lifetime-terrorization from when I was a kid, it stirs up those childhood-patterns of being treated like garbage, and I got out into the fresh air and it’s always a horror to be me usual sorts of meaningless time-passing and then I got to the hospital to get the prescription smoothly for the first time and it was like a big joke, mixed in with that since I had free time while waiting I’d gone, as I’ve been trying to get a chance to do, and asked if I could use a scale to see what my weight is and it’s gone up close to 10 pounds so then it’s trivialize the end of the planet earth down to a female fretting about a little weight gain and also that it goes with the then-theme of the day for who’s the slaughter-target for today’s underworld “sports,” that the weight-scene had been waiting for me as well as the pharmacy b.s. “comedy” around how “stupid” I am that you can get away with making up almost anything and I can’t tell the difference, etc. That’s how the “Armageddon,” the book of Revelation, the global-system, everything, the food-system under the ground, the whole system, has been running, by living off of living off of me, these “Jomon” devised that. Now I can’t say anything about this Breakshot book because one of them had co-worked it up.
They devised a little “line-up photo” theme to the author’s photos and I think they got the idea from the way you could think I’m holding that up, where maybe the early ones had only had 3 instead of the 4 lines with my name and address there, etc. I have to watch out for that “Jomon” that helped write that book, and the Witness Protection’s Gerald Shur seems to be “debating” or however you could describe these things, going against me behind my back but nobody ever speaks to me because they’re all liars, they can claim their stories underground but not in front of regular people or in a court, the whole system’s “just” a joke of these brain-eaters’ raising their own offspring-descendants illicitly and all these other unreal things going on, based on the prehistoric-era difficulties, and then they make themselves the “educated experts” in the Prehistory field/s, as I’m noticing that that’s what they’d done with religion, they set up schools for themselves and then tell normal people they aren’t educated for jobs in the field/s so that everything winds up with only the sneaks in charge of everything, and this “Man In Oriental Costume” “race” of themselves and the “creations” they’ve birthed lives off of bothering my teeny life.
3/14, the swine woke me at 4:30 a.m. ostensibly on the pretext that I hadn’t had to pee before going to sleep and so would require to before the 7a.m. time I’d planned to wake up, — where it’s always waking me around four a.m. for years and years now like to keep them company while they do their murder-slaughters is all I can figure that that’s for or about, all these years, and so I generally make it a point to pee before laying down to try to sleep with this feces -circus all over me but didn’t have to and it’s useful toward waking me early in the morning but not before it’s light out and the swine just like sit on my bladder and won’t let me return to sleep till I get up and dress for the toilet and return and then they did as usual that insomnia, — mostly reading my thoughts about plans for what on earth I could try to do to get away from themselves, etc., — and I didn’t get back to sleep till just beforelight out so that I didn’t wake till nearly nine and then it was to one of their acting-directed scenes with any people around me, waking into a hallucino-script all the time I try to avoid but couldn’t of course because all I have is getting into the library to try to do this toward trying to reach some assistance so that I can’t tarry, have to do this then that then whatever else I have to do in order to get out of the room and into at least some fresh air where I can life and death breathe more deeply.
sexually-confused primitives they’d come from.
Found this old excerpt description: 12/30/17, Sat., — Yesterday I was trying to say that it’s like a phenomenon where these bums/this Consortium now I’m calling it, thrashes and bashes me all the way to the libraries but then they don’t make a peep while I’m actively reading or doing this typing. They seem to just sit all over me like sandbags generally but they don’t torture me and the phenomenon is that when I get up the torture resumes like nothing had happened, that it’s seemed to me that I didn’t get tortured while trying to read to learn to figure where they’d come from, that there was some respect for the reading but when I get up it’s like nothing had happened and they’re vile and about nothing but creating pollution again then. But when I tried to type that yesterday I somehow, as is also a pattern, never managed to reach what I’d been trying to type about, so that in thinking about that I’d neglected to mention that oddness it’s then come together that it’s part of the covering up that they spend all the time that they’re not actively being entertained in one way or another in, that they’re “respectful” of the book-reading or now on the internet because they’re just like it’s a job watching to see so they can cover up whatever “evidence” I could find or make out of what I read or that anyone else might be able to put together about. That’s all they do, cover their tracks and sit and be entertained, build they’re narcotics-begetting system, and they’ve been doing that “1984 Big Brother” and changing history off of sitting on me to an extreme extent all these years.