deepundergroundpoetry.com

Damaged Souls: Victims versus Perpetrators: Social Commentary

I would like to tell you a story. Not a love story, or science fiction story, but a true story of a CIA MKUltra, illegal, unethical, non consensual experiment consisting of child abuse, torture and mind control. This story asks allot of questions and delivers reasonable quantifiable  answers sighting many examples of people with similar experiences.                                                
                                                 
My earliest recollection of a second personality? mind control existing within me was at a time when my grandfather took me out onto his farmland filled with mangoes, bananas, plums, figs, guava, sapodilla and many more trees bearing exotic fruits and flowers. However one particular exotic plant caught my attention as my grand dad (my fathers stepdad), held it in his left outstretched hand and with a machete in his right cut the cocoa pod, ending a few centimeters from the palm of his hand as the long sharp blade passed between his index and middle finger. As he stuck the blade into the soft muddy ground and opened the pod into two halves with both hands in front of me, I sense something strange like my head was encased in a bubble and my eyes were looking under water. It felt as if someone else was looking through my eyes while I was rendered into a trans, an altered state of consciousness. I was fixated on three things, the split opened cocoa pod, his rain boots which was deep in mud and his farmer jumpers. I am not sure if we spoke as I cannot recall any conversation beyond waking up from sleeping and being summoned outside the house. I believe I was about five of six years old at the time. I guess this was the beginning of my realization that someone was damaging my soul (didn't know I had one. I know that what many people call a soul is actually consciousness), yet at that moment and many more experiences like the one I just described I had no idea this was happening to me.                                                
Aren’t you sick and tired of religious people labeling the non religious and those dealing with suffering and strife that are not afraid to express their emotions of anger, displeasure in written and verbal manners by offering constructive criticism as being damaged souls. I have comprised a list of categories where people whom have/had or currently experiencing any of these factors in their lives as being damaged goods for wanting to get justice for their horrific ordeal.                                                
                                                 
Victims of Rape, genocide, pedophilia, violent act, psychological abuse and torture, mind control, sabotage, illegal experimentation's, bullying, identity theft, property theft, vandalism, racism, sexism, slavery, police brutality, families of murder victims, poison, religious bigotry and hatred and many more. This idea of one should just simply accept that this was, is being done, and the person should move on with their lives is utterly preposterous, callous, uncaring and show a lack of understand and respect for the individuals whom have experienced and those currently experiencing these atrocities against their persons.  The religious right seems to think that it is God’s duty to serve justice yet he never does. God seems to think that answering all the prayers of those victims, the ones that believe in him is beneath him. Who are they to demand or expect God to give them an account of his handling of their cries for justice. I suppose he does not answer the prayers of those whose souls are deemed damaged, well because they are not holy meaning whole persons but fragmented pieces not worthy of an account. Much like how black people where considered not whole human beings but three fifth's of a person. But what about the spirit does not the spirit give instructions to the soul. Well if the soul is damaged then the spirit must be damaged as well. I guess that means the spirit and the soul are both screwed since the damage will be everlasting even after the person dies. Some people choose to agree and even follow in the footsteps of God by proclaiming that even though God’s judgement is secretive sometimes, the punishments inflicted are never unjust. Well I’ll be damn God is Frank Castle the freaking Punisher, a vigilante. And all this time I was thinking that it was Ray Stevenson. Blimey! However here lies the problem God never punishes the pedophile priest or the pastors/believers infecting women and men with HIV/Aids, the corrupted government official, law enforcement officers, or the false prophets bilking millions of people of their hard earned dollars. How is it that these people are not the ones with damage souls. Oh I get it, only the victims who refuse to let them get away with their cruel deeds are the ones whose souls are damaged and rotten to the core. Our relentless pursuit to see that justice is done is not seen as heroic or even virtuous. Our efforts are to be interpreted as something menacing, a harsh discomfort to their belief system.                                                
                                                 
I am a realist, I do not believe in such superstitious things. I seek to champion the natural rights of man and woman. I speak out against the religious right in their constant attempts to create legislation to diminish and violate those rights. I refuse to leave justice to the hands of imaginary beings. For this I am labelled as being a damaged soul. Is it wrong to want justice against those who while I was a child attending Carnival Festivities sent me silent sound spread spectrum to leave from in between the crowd of masqueraders during the fete and get to a safe position where my older brother Michael could keep an eye on me. I proceeded to the right front edge of the double decker four ton pan stand carrying more than twenty people on it. These individual were playing heavy steel drums while under a trans. I remember the transmission telling me to stay at a safe place and keep my eyes fixed on my brother. As I was looking at Michael I did not notice that my right foot became positioned underneath one of the the small wheels. Not thinking that anything bad would happened after all I had attended Carnival from the time I could walk and as I grew older I would push the pan stands that my three older brothers Michael, Lester, and Everette where playing music on. The ensuing pain I felt next was indescribable. I experience the exact same thing as I stated before like my head was encased in a bubble and my eyes were looking under water staring down at my right foot not even noticing it positioning directly in front of the wheel. This I suppose was the second consciousness. You cannot imaging the pain I felt as the wheel slowly rolled on top my foot resting there for what seems like an eternity. It felt like a shot gun blast directly to my brain as I screamed out in agony and horror, tears streaming from my eyes like Niagara falls. My foot was stuck there for over a minutes. My cries and screams for help went unnoticed by the jubilant masqueraders dancing to the sounds of the steel orchestra playing sweet Soca music before someone paid attention to my sorry state. This gentleman blew his whistle and a slew of people including my brother assisted in lifting the wheel off of my foot. Even more surprising other than my foot being almost crushed was the fact that I had no fractured or broken bones. I could be wrong about a split personality but I’m not wrong about this being a case of mind control.                                                
I awoke from a short nap one afternoon walked outside to the front yard where the rest of my family had gathered. I could hear my sister saying “look, the sleepy head has awaken” before I could say anything I looked down noticing the zipper on the short pants I was wearing was unzipped. My head encased in a bubble, sensing someone else too was looking through my eyes as my hand held the zipper. I was not wearing any underwear and proceeded to zip the zipper with any thought behind the action. I felt a sharp pain and I began to scream out loud with tears streaming down my face. I sister walked towards me and asked what happened. Struggling to stop screaming I finally managed to say I zipped up my penis. In actuality I zipped the foreskin covering my penis in the zipper of the shorts I was wearing. I remember this day all too well just like the first time at my grandfather’s farm, then the carnival incident and now this. The pain was excruciating, I would not let anyone touch the zipper. I do not remember how long it was stuck but I know it was for a very long time until my older brother decided to just yank the zipper down releasing me from what seemed to feel like and encasement of pain and agony. I think I went back to bed without wearing anything to cover my bottom half. I was petrified that I might zip myself again. Funny thing thought I never liked wearing underwear under my shorts or pants when I’m at home and I still don’t till this very day. Even more strange is the fact that I have never experienced zipping myself again.                                                
                                                 
One Sunday afternoon I woke from a snap, went outside and no one was around. The street I lived on was dead silent. I walked around looking for people but no one was to be found. Not my family or friends, not even strangers. I took a walk down to the grocery shop figuring the shop owner would be there because it was the only shop that stayed open on Sundays. As I reached the intersection I saw a dog walking towards me. I did my best to stay calm and walked in the opposite direction of the dog which looked like in had not eating in several days or perhaps even weeks. Its rib cage was showing and it looked extremely malnourished. The dog kept coming in my direction no matter where I turned. I was looking around hoping to see anyone that might help me, but no one was to be found. The dog began to walk faster towards me and I panicked and began to run. I was only seven or eight years old at the time. Very short and thing with not much meat on my body and the dog seemed large and menacing. I made my way into the shop with the dog chasing behind me. I started screaming for the shop keeper  to help me, but I heard no answer. I tried to climb on top the counter but I could not reach it. My only refuge was  to position myself in a corner that way he could not attack me from behind. I did the only thing I could to fend off the growling beast which was to use my legs and kick as hard and fast as I could repeatedly hoping I might get lucky and strike a blow that might turn the animal away. But I was not fortunate in that aspect. After kicking with such ferocity my legs were tired and I feared for the worst. I mustered enough will power to kick one more time with my left leg which connected but not in a good way. The animal had bitten my shin and would not let go. It was trying to drag me out from the corner and perhaps onto the ground to get at the most vulnerable areas of my persons. The throat, buttocks, groin, thighs or any other limb. Struggling and screaming as I was staring into a set of wild beastly looking eyes with red protruding veins that somehow seemed to fill the whiteness. Showing extreme aggressiveness and fixated on me, its prey. Once again I experienced the all too reoccurring phenomena of my head encased in a glass bubble underwater and someone else was looking through them simultaneously. Then suddenly I remembered a conversation I had with one of my male cousins after watching an episode of Lassie; who said that if I was ever to be attacked by a dog all I had to do was punch it in the nose and it would run in terror. I remembered that and that was exactly what I did. I stared right at the black wet shiny thing with nostrils flared open wide, dripping with snot and punched as hard as I could with my right fist and connected. I landed a pretty hard and damaging blow to the animal and it took off. I sat in the corner trembling. Looking at the bite in my leg and thinking how scary the eyes of the dog looked. Kind of remind myself of the time I had pink eye. Thought my eyes were not scary looking I could not help to think just maybe if I had the ability to change my physical state like a chameleon into a great big grizzly bear I would have been able to fend off the impending attack on my person. I limped all the way home crying and angry at the fact that I was made to feel helpless and there was no one around to help me with my flesh ripped apart and bloodied with the white of my shin bone visible.                                                
                                                 
As a child growing up on the island of Grenada it seemed as if I was getting sick more than all my siblings and friends. I probably had every childhood disease known to man. This included The Mums, Measles, Hyper pigmentation of the face and neck, acute tonsillitis for which I had surgery to remove my tonsils and a Hernia which I also had surgery to have removed. As I got older I began to realized that the surgery and suture to my groin area was poorly done. My left testicle is about fifty percent smaller than my right testicle and tends to moves upwards out of its sack and into my lower abdomen. The two hospitalizations are basically lost in my memory. I vaguely remember anything except laying in a hospital bed with my twin brother next to me on one occasion and being administered anesthesia. I think I remember leaving Saint George’s General Hospital however I’m not sure. I cannot recall any other memories of my time in the hospital. One day my twin and I were playing in the street gutter and developed sores all over our buttocks from ring worms. Many children have played in these gutters and I’ve never heard nor seen any such outbreak of ring worms on anyone besides my twin and I. What is even more perplexing is the fact that we did not sit in the gutter but I recall our hands, forearms and feet touching the green algae that grew under the water that flows through these gutters. Many children have come into contact with the same algae. Yet we did not develop any sores to our feet, legs, hands, forearm or any other part of our bodies except for the butt area. The other children who played alongside us did not develop sores of any kind anywhere. I believe my mom treated us with either iodine (which reduces thyroid hormone and can kill fungus, bacteria, and other microorganisms such as amoebas. A specific kind of iodine called potassium iodide is also used to treat (but not prevent) the effects of a radioactive accident.); or Merbromin (marketed as Mecuricome which is a dark red topical antiseptic containing mercury. Before the proliferation of over the counter first aid medicines, and FDA regulations which stopped its manufacture, Mecuricome was used throughout the world to treat minor cuts, scrapes, sores, and other external infectious conditions). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki                                                    
After the medication was applied to our buttocks we both had to sit on a piece of parchment paper for hours until the sores dried. This went on for days until the sores was completely healed. While sitting on the parchment paper I experience the same phenomena of my head being encased in a bubble underwater and someone was looking though my eyes simultaneously. For days after the sores were gone I wanted to ask my twin brother if he was experiencing the same thing that I was experiencing but I never got around to it. As I’ve said this would become a recurring event well into my adulthood.                                                    
                                                 
Mind Control: The force awakens                                                  
On a hot summer Sunday when I was about seven years of age I awoke from an afternoon nap to the tune of my growling belly. No one was home and there was nothing at home to eat. I found myself wondering aimlessly up and down the street we lived on wondering where my sister and brothers were. I remember receiving the artificial telepathic transmission guiding me down to the empty town market. On Sundays the usually very busy market is closed along with the local shops and other businesses. As I looked around the market hoping that someone had left a mango, banana, guava or anything I get to ease my growling tummy for the moment until my family returned home, but there was nothing. After the markets closes on Saturday, they clean everything, they wash the pavements, the carts, and inside the market building. I wondered some more until I reach the supermarket. I never knew that they were open on Sundays but to my surprise they were. I looked through the window at the aisles with all the yummy food items and dreamt of stuffing my fat face to the point where I would become so full that I would regurgitate what my tummy couldn't breakdown. My dream was cut short by the security guard looking at me from left inside the grocery store. Something told me to leave and a walk to the end of the block, where I stood for a few minutes. I returned to the front of the store, I looked around and did not see the guard and took that as a sign that I should enter, and I did. I was not looking for anything in particular, I just wanted something to eat. Believe it or not, I remember walking past every aisle, looking at every item on the shelve until I ended up in the refrigerated section. I was standing in front of some packs of slice cheeses. I took a pack off the self, looked at it then looked around. I calmly placed the cheese inside my shorts and made my way down the aisle. A small voice in the from of my head said "all you have to do is turn the corner walk past six aisles and out the door and you are home free." To my excitement and surprised I did not see the guard and I was almost at the end of the aisle. suddenly I felt frightened and the little voice said make a mad dash to the exist. I did not pay it any mind and as soon as I turned the corner the security guard was there waiting. I was scared shitless as he apprehended me. He reached into my shorts, took out the package of cheese and held me in the back office until the store closed. He took me home and told my older sister that I stole a pack of cheese. As for how he saw me I have no clue. I never saw anyone, the aisle was empty as were the other two beside it. My sister dispense her heavy handed punishment on me without pulling any punches. In any majority western country the beating would amount to child abuse because it left black and blue marks on my persons. I never stole anything ever again.                                                  
                                                 
Mind Control: The force Awakens, Kings Plaza, Brooklyn New York                                                  
I am going to fast forward the timeline in my true story to show that this phenomena did not stop after I left Grenada at the age of ten. Back in the spring of nineteen ninety eight on a Saturday I awoke from a long sleep. I went to bed early Friday night because I had made plans to travel to Jersey Gardens, a shopping mall of epic proportions in New Jersey. I awoke, showered ate breakfast, watched television for a few then the next thing I knew I awoke and it was afternoon. I got dressed, left my apartment, took the New Lots bound number three train to Utica Avenue. I was hungry and stopped at Tony's pizzeria, bought a five dollar plate of jerk chicken and a D&G cola champagne, sat and ate then caught a dollar taxi to Kings Plaza Mall. I had no idea why I was on my way to that mall when my plans was to head to New Jersey. I arrived at the mall and once again found myself aimlessly wondering around. After a few moment I found myself standing at Sabarro's Pizza and in front of an ex girlfriend and her daughter. We spoke for a few minute and afterwards I left the mall and made my way home. Strange huh? I thought so too but never sat to ponder about why I ended up there.                                                  
                                                 
The infiltration and misuse of Cable and Satellite networks                                            
Saturday mornings were my favorites in Brooklyn, especially during the Spring and Summer months. My normal routine after work on Friday if I was not invited into the city to hang out for after work social events with my friends, was to take the A train to Nostrand Avenue and Fulton Street rather than my usual travel route to Key Food. There I would purchase my groceries for the weekend and upcoming week then take a cab home to my residence on Park Place between Brooklyn and New York Avenue. I absolutely loved my apartment. It was rent controlled, the previous tenant an elderly lady had passed away after living there for over thirty five years. The apartment was spacious and completely renovated. It had a walk in closet, a huge bathroom with a stand up shower and separate bathtub. The parquet floor was installed new, everything was new. The market value for my apartment was around twelve hundred dollars but being that it was rent stabilized it was rented to me for six hundred and fifty dollars. On Saturday morning I would wake up early, eat a small breakfast consisting of a bowl of cereal, a few Blueberry muffins, a protein shake and pre workout drink and head to the gym. I worked out at Bally Total Fitness on Kings Highway close to Ocean Parkway. The train ride was lengthy but very serene. Most people were asleep and the subway traffic was always light. I watched people coming home from work. They were mostly Hotel employees, security guards, night club workers, healthcare employees, dish washers and folks returning  from various parties.                    
Upon returning home I would hit the shower, open my refrigerator to grab a bottle of water and other food items to prepare lunch. I’d sit on the edge of my bed and turn on the television to see what was on DirectTV channels. And that was it, I would open my eyes four to six hours later to the playing of a Burger King Whopper commercial. This would be a repeated phenomenon for months, I would be awakened to the same valtex commercial. I remember waking up having a medicine aftertaste in my mouth and my head felt cloudy and my erection which would last for hours after I workout was non existent and returned late the following day. I knew it was not my post workout supplement which I mixed in with my protein shake because I have use the same supplements for years and had they had never left any lingering aftertaste. I also felt very drained. After a workout I’m usually energized and filled with vigor and vitality but on these Saturdays and some Sundays it was as if the life and liveliness had been sucked out of me. I also had some memory loss, I could not remember anything I did, if it were not for the empty bottle of water and the food sitting out in the kitchen I probably would have went without eating as I was not famished at all. Nothing seemed to make sense, I head felt numb, my mouth felt I had just gotten a shot of Novocaine making any attempt to speak feel strangely daunting. There was no one there for me to speak to but when I tried to utter the words “what the hell is going on,” my voiced sounded slurred. My eye sight was slow to come into focus and I mostly always felt discombobulated .                                    
                                   
There was one night I distinctly remember coming home with my girlfriend Nicole at the time and my nephew who must have been six years old when out of the corner of my eye I saw two Caucasian New York City Police Officers pulling into the entrance of Kingston Park which was at the end of the street between Kingston and Brooklyn Avenue, a few buildings down from where we lived. As we were walking down the block to head upstairs to our apartment, two officers exited their cruiser and opened the trunk. I did not think at the time if me being fixated on the two cops had any significance on what happened during my memory lost that night, but I do now. The only thing I remember about that night after entering my crib was removing the blanket off of me and my feet touching the floor then I stood at the edge of the bed, got back in then pulled the cover over me. I did not even remember shutting my eyelids to fall asleep or anything that happened after putting my nephew to sleep on the couch. That was all I remembered, there was no in between. I always remember if I wake up in the middle of the night whether it to use the toilet or if I’m hungry, to eat something. On this particular night I could not remember anything no matter how hard I tried to recalled what transpired from the moment I got out of bed and got back into bed. It is only now that I realized that this strange event was their way of taunting and teasing me to say you have no evidence and we are doing this to you without your consent simply because we can.                                     
             
Almost every weekday morning  around seven O’clock for about a month I would leave my apartment to go to work and I shit you not there would be a black hearse parked in front of the building. There was a funeral home about four block away but I have been living there close to a year and this strange event with the hearse had never happened before until after that night. I explained what was happening to one of my sister's who said she was also seeing a black hearse parked in the middle of the street she live on at the same time she would leave her apartment building. A short while after my nephew Kerry was murdered and left in the trunk of a car in a parking lot in Cleveland Ohio. A passerby smelt something putrid coming the vehicles trunk and noticed blood stains. The individual called the police alerting them of what they had found. I now know that she was a plant who never cared about me at all, I also doubted she even liked me very much. I came home from work one night and as I entered the apartment she started crying, clawing and screaming at me saying she wished I was dead. What the hell happened I asked. "You wanted me to do the laundry by myself and I did. I tripped and fell over the laundry cart and bruised my wrist on way home." What in the ass I said, I know we usually do laundry together but the one time I asked her to do it by herself and she had a mishap, she said I was a piece of shit and she wanted me dead. Make no mistake this was not about her doing laundry, she was festering some serious hatred and ill will towards me. After that night I realized I was in a relationship with someone else damaged goods, an extremely angry toxic person. There was another incident on the eve of the Brooklyn labor day carnival. The Sunday morning before labor day I asked her if she wanted to join my friends and I in the J'ouvert celebration which leads up to the Carnival Monday. I explicitly told her to wear old clothing because the JabJab (people who paint themselves with tar and wear horns and tails) have a habit of hugging people who were looking spiffy and cute. She did not listen to me, right before we left the crib I told her one more time not to wear new clothing, and especially not the color white. Well guess what, she chose to ignore my stern warning and wore white clothing. While we were amidst the crowd, liming (chilling) with my sisters Lisa, and Yvonne. Cousins Michelle, Amanda, Gayle, Judy, and some friends enjoying the festivities when a jabjab, attracted by the clean whiteness of her clothing approached from behind and wrapped his arms around her ruining her blouse and pants. She started crying and started berating me. I yelled back saying I told you not to wear any good clothing and warned you that this is what happens at J'ouvert. There are other instances but i will save that for another story. I wanted to try and fix what was wrong but with people like that there is nothing anyone can ever do to alleviate their emotional woes of wanting revenge and being mean spirited for even the simplest of things. I was always uncomfortable in our home, at my job, out in the open and whenever we went anywhere together my eyes were constantly wondering. I was in defense mode twenty four seven.              
             
I was receiving subliminal messages and artificial telepathy telling that I should get a life insurance policy for half a million dollars and that I should put her name down as the beneficiary in case of my sudden departure from this world. I took out the life insurance policy but added my nephews name to it as the beneficiary instead. She kept on showing me her ring finger and was constantly bringing up conversations about the only kind of engagement ring she wanted has to be platinum with a nice size rock. I guess I was suppose to get cold feet and bail. I was not about to bail until I could be able to explain what the heck was going on by paying close attention to everything she said and did. Also I began to do things to see what she would do. She had a certain zeal and excitement in her speech and mannerism as if she was a part of a Lord of the Ring Quest to get a ring and destroy the bestower afterwards. However I was not about to be taking for a ride by no one. She was always going to trunk show’s and though it may or may not be connected I named the script of psychological intimidation, terror and murder “The Trunk Show.” I now realized that someone with her help had been drugging me and the most likely of drugs used was non other than Hyoscine, also known as scopolamine. This drug is most commonly used to treat motion sickness to prevent people from vomiting, becoming nauseous and decreases the production of saliva. Hyoscine can be delivered by injection, as a skin patch and orally. The drug takes effects within 20 minutes of being dispensed and last for up to 8 hours. Common side effects of the drug are dry mouth, prolonged sleepiness, blurred vision, and dilated pupils. I woke up one Monday morning and felt a pinning sensation on my right thigh like I was stuck with a needle. My mind became open if that makes any sense. My senses felt heightened, my forehead felt warm and I became fixated on everything I looked at. I turned on the television to watch the morning news and I could not help myself as I was constantly changing the television channels. The subliminal messages they tried to send to me was not working because I kept telling myself that someone was experimenting on me for as long as I can remember and now they felt as if they had done enough damage to my mind as to where they could attempt to drive me insane and schizophrenic but that was not to be. With the help of my one up person and I’m guessing that person was probably female and knew that what was being done to me was one of the worst crimes you could do a human being, especially children.                            
                           
How she and I met                          
                           
Upon Graduation from college I worked very hard over the summer and during the fall of nineteen ninety five. I DJ’d almost every weekend, worked as a seasonal employee for the New York City Parks and Recreational Department and on my days off I worked managing a small land lord tenant newspaper which was run by two Jewish Russian brothers, owners of a heating gas and oil company in East New York Brooklyn. During the winter I applied and was hired for the dual position of Estimator/Preflight operator at a newly formed commercial digital printing company in midtown Manhattan. This company was the first and only fully all digital printing company on the east coast. One Monday morning during the spring of the following year, I enter the subway station at and walked to the conductors car without a thought. Usually I would enter either the first or second cars as they are closer to the exit where I lived. I made a right turn entering the middle train car which to my surprise was quite full with people sitting and standing. Also quite surprising was the fact that upon immediately entering the car, there was an empty seat next this this lady dressed like an airline stewardess except her skirt was above the knee and had no scarf around her neck or other identifying attire which would make it plainly know that she worked for an airline. She was staring at me with a friendly smile while pushing her titties up using her arms. I looked around wondering why no one was in this empty seat. Most times if there is an empty seat on a train during morning rush hour people are scrambling and arguing to get in that seat. This was not the case, it was as if she was waiting for me to come and sit next to her. Something said to me ”say hello to her and keep the conversation simple.” so I did, by introducing myself. We talked about our jobs and I found out that she knew some of my family. she also lived in the same apartment building my aunt and cousins lived in. They had grown up together as a matter of fact. I had a vague memory of my cousins talking about a girl in their building who got pregnant in high school and got in trouble with the law a few times. I did not think anything of it and even if that person was her it would not have deterred me from dating her under my own circumstances. I handed her my business card and exited the train. The next stop was Lexington Avenue. What happened with us I now know it was not of my own free will and decision making. I was mind controlled and manipulated into this situation as well as most of my life experiences. It seemed a though a great part of my life experiences were chosen for me by the Central Intelligence Agency and a fraction of the United States Military bent on bringing the biblical Apocalypse into fruition.                          
                           
We would talk quite frequently over a period of about three weeks. During that time we would meet for lunch at least twice a week, went to diner and hung out a few time and things were going well. I was also looking for and found an apartment about eight short block away from my mother’s place.                            
One evening during the fourth week I awoke out of a nap. It was about nine pm at night when I found myself gingerly walking down to her apartment building. She had no idea I was on my way to see her.  I went upstairs and knocked on her door. Her mom answered, smelling like she just inhales a pack of squares, the Newport brand. I asked her if I could speak to her daughter. When she arrived at the door I asked her to move in with me, she said yes but she was in really bad debt with student loans and she would not be able to contribute much. I told her it was okay. I suggested to her that she can purchase the groceries and she shook her head in agreement. We kissed, said good night then I left. Thinking about this event for some time and anyone who knows me, knows I would not move in with anyone after a month of dating. I was not in love with her, I really liked and cared for her and thought she was a fantastic person but I was not in love. Over time I did fall in love with her but someone or some people was attempting to hide something about her or someone she had dated from her past, kept in present contact with, and would be dating again in the future. Knowing what I know now, someone was hypnotizing me playing cupid/matchmaker. We have a very high profile friend in common and on a few occasions as I made my way down New York Avenue on any given day headed towards the park on the corner on Atlantic Avenue to play basketball I would see his truck arriving at the stoplight as soon as I reach the corner. I thought that was strange that I would arrive and there would always be a red stop light with very few cars traveling at that particular time on what is usually a very busy street. I also remembered that this friend we had in common dated a famous super model and had a very scandalous breakup over her being infected with herpes. Often times I thought maybe she knew who these people were that were experimenting with mid control and torture techniques on my unsuspecting self.      
     
I definitely now think she did and I am reminded of a train ride coming from hanging out in the city Nicole and I were standing in a crowed train. I was reading the different advertisement adorning the train car when we were approached by a homeless person. “Excuse me sir but can you possibly spare some change, I would like to get something to eat.” Of course I said yes while reaching into my right front pocket to hand him a five dollar bill. I never walked with cash for myself but I always kept twenty six dollars (two fives and sixteen one dollar bills) on me every week to give to the homeless people I come into contact with. As I extended my had to hand the gentle the money Nicole grabbed my hand saying “Pookey don’t touch him, that’s too much money. Give him a dollar. Ball the money up and throw it on the floor, allot of them be having Tuberculosis.” I was very upset, felt hurt and disappointed at her for saying that I responded saying, you or I or anyone among us could have TB. To suggest that I throw money on the floor and treat this person like he was less than human is an eye opener.                          
Two years into being into a relationship and living together I was working across the street at another commercial printing company in and at the direct competitor of the company where I started my career in printing with as a preflight technician. The former company was besieged by sabotage and closed down after only a year in operation. A year and a half removed I began working across the street after being guided there and seeking to escape the psychological harassment I was receiving at an advertising agency I was employed at. Things seemed to be going great, we had moved into a new apartment, one that was completely renovated and on a nicer block across the street from a park. But after about five months I was about to be promoted into a better position with much better pay. Shortly after that announcement I began experiencing some very strange events during my workdays. I remember entering the building and clocking in. I went up to the forth floor where my workstation was and sat down. Usually when I arrived at my work computer which was located in the right corner of a section on the forth floor and directly to the right of the entry door, there was usually a job jacket on my work desk. Within the jacket was paper work and other items, which consisted of a description of the job and a storage disk or disks containing the files to be preflighted, checked and verified. Prior to that night I’ve never had any issue at the job. Then suddenly I would sit at computer there would be no job jacket with any files to be checked. After several minutes waiting I find my eyes becoming locked on the time clock in the upper right corner of the computer monitor. For example the clock would say nine am, I remember blinking my eyelids and then the clock would say one pm. This went on for many days and weeks. I use to asked my supervisor and the other employees if thing had gotten very slow that there was not much work to do. Whenever I would get up to go to the rest room I had to make a left turn from where I was seated to exist the room. Upon exiting I turned into the hallway which housed a elevator directly in front of the exist, there I would be greeted by the opening of the elevator doors a black male wearing a cowboy hat leaned up at the rear of the elevator with his feet crossed. Like in the old western movies where the guy is leaning on a pole and his hat is tipped forward covering the top part of his face.                                  
Imagine if you will this, four to six times a day as soon as you make a left turn exiting a room an elevator door opens with the same person inside standing in the exact position and in the same pose. This was a frequent occurrence throughout the day along with the change of temperature in my small sectioned off work area. One minute it was hot then it turned frigid cold. I was sweating one minute and shivering the next. The psychological softening of my mind was beginning and my nerves were becoming unhinged. The psychological softening of my mind was beginning and my nerves were becoming unhinged. I would have flashes on many occasions where a few Caucasian production managers, two in particular would stand over my left shoulder of directly in the back of me handing me job tickets. While they were explaining what needs to be done I would see the clock then I would see their hands zipping up their trousers. The air smelt like feces and my rear end felt lubricated. I thought I was going nuts. The two individuals Bill, a tall heavy set white haired fella and Al a small skinny fella with jet black hair and a mustache that looked like Hilter's, were the main ones. From all my studies about the human brain and how the mind can play trick on a person I said to myself that this was not real, what I thought was happening was not happening. There was a tall black guy with a septum nose piercing on the floor who would repeatedly play what sounded like an old speech probably one from world war one or world war two of a president or prime minister declaring war on Germany. There was also a small television which sat on a desk next to a window and there was a news video of a China aircraft carrier engaging in military exercises in disputed waters and pretty close to Japan. It was nerve wrecking, I kept asking myself why is no one saying anything about how loud the radio was playing. Someone was conditioning my mind to put me in fear, to feel and smell these things. I’ve heard of people being drugged and raped but hypnotized and raped, especially a heterosexual male in day light in a manufacturing building was beyond all reason. I did not succumb to the fear I was feeling because of my knowledge of mind control techniques and the frailty of the human mind. I simply did not believe what I was experiencing was real. Calmly after the vision I’d make my way down to the second floor to the production managers and sale managers department to clear my head and gather my thoughts. I did not want to come running out of the building like some raving lunatic accusing people of mind controlling me to rape me and attempting to drive me insane. When I opened the door there was this one particular sales person who would brandish a thirty eight revolver. He would be seated on top a desk to the right of me with another sales rep who would be spreading money like an Asian fan or a deck of cards across his two hands. I immediately made a u turn went down stairs and out the building. I walked to edge of the side walk took out my cell phone and rang a female friend of mine and explained to her about what was happening to me at my place of work. She offered to meet me one evening after work and we took the train home together. During the ride home she started asking me if when I took a crap did my feces come out soft, I asked what do you mean, soft like diarrhea soft with water or soft like a paste. I told her not like diarrhea soft. She said she loved having anal sex and I figured she would be able to confirm whether or not what I thought was happening was or was not happening. She explained to me that after having anal sex her feces would come out really soft but paste like. I was terrified but I also knew sometimes feces comes out paste like depending on a persons dietary intake. Also the fact that there was no blood in it kind of ease my freight. However the lubricated sensation in my rear end did not subside until late at night. I went to work day after day, sometimes very late because of I was extremely frightened. I did not understand what was happening and why would a group of people be doing these kinds of heinous things to me. The weekend arrived, Nicole  had a very busy weekend schedule and rented a car. I said okay that's great, she for some strange reason kept talking about the car manufacturer and car model. She kept saying it's a Ford Probe and kept acting as if I had not heard anything she said. I had allot on my mind, she said she rented a vehicle and that was enough for me after all it was her money that she used to rent the vehicle and not mine. In fact I thought it was a very trivial thing and there was no need to bring to my attention the make and model every chance she got. She would also hold the vehicle keys as if it was a shank while holding in the front of her midsection while coming around corners pointing towards me. She would at times undress with her back facing me. I noticed what looked like light bruises on her back, and the sides of her face, arms and thighs. Maybe it was just my imagination, the marks looked like the ones on bruised oranges. Was I supposed to be feeling guilt for something I had not done and new nothing about. Was this part of a manipulation program. Was she being coached, trained in emotional and psychological warfare. I didn't think about it after she said it was nothing.                  
                               
I said to myself this is the beginning of the of the end for those who would experiment on  anyone and feel they can get away with anything including torture and murder. I decided to study those whom had been pulling the strings acting as the God of Isaac, Jacob and Abraham. I became determined to expose every scheme they hatch. Years later I was reading a news article about the company having been under investigation by the FBI and Justice Department since 1991. This was unbeknown to me and which coincidentally or not was the same year I entered college to computer graphic. Since the college did not offer a four year degree in this field it was suggested to me by a black woman at the registrar office to enroll in the Graphic Arts and Advising program which offered a four year degree. I asked her if the two program were identical and she said yes, except the four year degree program went a step further. The newspaper article mentioned something to effect of the owner and a few of the sales people were double billing clients for work being done. I guess this was how they rolled. The owner and a few people were sentenced to prison for tax evasion and conspiracy to defraud their clients. While there I was trying my hardest to get out of this job and facility. I interviewed for a job as a Prepress Technician at another commercial printing company just a few block around the corner form East 45th Street. I went on the interview and saw that one of there biggest clients was Hustler Magazine. I was pretty psyched to tell you the truth. I wanted to work on high end jobs doing editing and retouching but I did not have enough experience, even though I knew all the applications that were used in the industry like the back of my hand and was told that I would learn on the job if I were hired but nay I was not.          
                      
God is on our side and it is by his will that we are able to justify committing these heinous Nazi like crimes against your humanity and sovereignty. Make no mistake when it comes to the believers of God and their false interpretations of fabricated prophesies to exploit others the world arena becomes a no holds bar battle royal death match. They will use deceit, trickery and any forms of illegal and unethical means proclaiming that it is God’s divine will. Which means that laws that exist to protect human life will cease to be recognized in their eyes paving the way for all kinds of atrocities to happen as people will turn blind eyes and silent mouths to accept and hide cruel intent and inhumane actions as being part of God’s plan for the human race. Without question these people are the worst of humanity using a doctrine of blind obedience as Adolph Hitler did asking his generals to fight till the end while invading Russia with soldiers and equipment that were ill prepared to deal with the blistering cold of the Russian Winter. Blind Obedience as history has shown us always fail in the end. Hitler lost the war in Russia thus starting a trickle down effect which resulted in Germany’s defeat ending world war two. Like Napoleon Bonaparte before him, led a contingency of six hundred and eighty five thousand soldiers, known as the Grande Armee from fourteen nations during the Napoleonic Wars of eighteen twelve fell to the sound and the fury of sub zero temperatures and a well prepared Russian military. In the end Napoleon force had the greater number of casualties, a whopping four hundred thousand compared to two hundred and ten thousand for the Russian Federation. Blind faith could not out do mother nature in both wars and I doubt blind faith can overcome facts, evidence, truth and well preparedness.                                        
                                       
A History of Assassination Attempts Made To Look Like Accidents                                      
                                     
I taught myself at a very young age to question everything, never dismiss what may seem to be coincidental or accidental, especially if it could have cost you your life. I was fortunate where I believe many others were not to have a point guard, an assist leader. My very behind the scenes version of the NBA's assist leader John Stockton, dishing out one up's.                                      
                                       
Josef Mengele a physician at the Auschwitz concentration camp during world war two and Nikolous “Klaus” Barbie a former SS and Gestapo Officer were without a doubt two of the most vile individuals on the planet. Both of these men came from Catholic backgrounds and were practicing members of the Catholic faith. I often ask myself what about the people that helped these two men escape justice and become fugitives from the law allowing them to live and thrive in South American countries such a Brazil and Bolivia. Are they not accessories and should they not be held culpable for the aftermath of horror to were continued by Mengele and Barbie. After all upon escape these men did not leave behind the old ways of The Third Reich one which was filled with genocide, mayhem and inhumane experiments and start anew. They did not live in seclusion on nice farms completely hidden away from public view, in fact the complete opposite was true. Klaus Barbie immersed himself in Bolivian politics and military culture. A master interrogator and very skilled at torture, he spearheaded the most violent uprising in Bolivian history. Using ambulances which are used to take sick and injured persons, to hospitals to transport armed men to murder peasant farmers and becoming heavily involved in trafficking narcotics. Michael Levine a former New York City undercover Dea agent has written several detail accounts of Klaus’s wild west behavior during his assignments in Bolivia and other Central and South American countries. In his book titled “The Big White Lie.” Mr. Levine supported by eye witness accounts lets the readers know that the American Central Intelligence Agency was in league with the Butcher of Lyon, one of the most sought after war criminals in all the world. It is also widely believed that Nikolous Barbie helped the CIA in capturing the revolutionary Che Guevara who executed on October ninth, nineteen sixty seven in Bolivia. The fact that these men had help traveling throughout Latin American and other places is terrifying and infuriating.                                      
                                       
God is the ultimate reference guide for creating genocidal maniacs, mass murderers, serial killers, psychopaths, sociopaths and megalomaniacs.                                                                      
God has sovereign rights over his creations, therefore he is Lord paramount and can do no injustice. It is said that if a man willfully rejects god’s offer of grace that his sins is to be regarded as the cause of his perishing because god is not bound to show mercy on nonbelievers.                                                                      
                                                                       
To be continued
Written by thewatcher33
Published | Edited 12th Mar 2023
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