Sunday, September 14, 2014

I CAN PROVE IT, SO THEY MUST COVERTLY MURDER ME; CHAPTER00005
















I CAN PROVE IT, SO THEY MUST COVERTLY MURDER ME







*****************CHAPTER 00005*****************

















I am getting another audience slump; and it is beyond ridiculous, how it happens, each time my blogs get real good and really begin to pick up with brand new shit, that should interest any half normal reader to some degree. This is why deep down, nobody will convince me that anyone from the real outside of some circle of something in a truly open and public domain, is reading me. If I am just preaching to enemy agents and a few family members getting eternal laughs on me, then I'll be rapping these blogs up once and for all. So as always, no gun is to anyone's head, and never has been. I was about to embark on some powerful brand new spins on tons of old shit that nine years of blogs have been talking about. But if you don't want to hear it and simply don't care, that is entirely your privilege, your own business, and cool with me, as I can just end this project, and go back to enjoying my music making and keyboard work, and great movies. In all truth, I don't need to do this, I don't need to tell you anything, and if interest in what I am telling and speaking about does not pick up the way it was doing once where I was getting 200 daily minimum page hits, then I would have a lot more enjoyment just doing my music, and relaxing with my good old movies. No offense, just straight talk right up front. None of you, whoever you are out here, will comment, communicate, or plug me to anyone, and my little circle is just sitting here for two years now, maybe as little as 15 people, maybe as many as twice that or more, but that is not enough for me to feel that this is worth all of my hard work to bring all of you so much great cool fucking information. Look for these blogs to be ending, and sort of in the reverse of the great ballad song, when September ends, this won't be waking up, it will be over for good. It will stand and stay up, as the testament that it is, as it contains great truths, and a very unfathomable tale of a life of a US citizen who has been put through an unholy hell since birth or shortly thereafter, and never ever told shy, but a moron can see and know it is there and real and happening.













I will tell you what I believe, besides all of you being a bunch of people who mean me no dam good at all. I believe that what has been written down was destiny, in this universe. You see, the one common thread in all of the places I have seen in dreamworlds where I never did these nine years of blogs, is that I to this day am living back at the Mullica Mobile Manor, and I won a large settlement after finding a great attorney for once in my life, against my miserable drunkard landlady, Jenny Plageman. She refused to let me have one guest ever at this place where I paid my rent, on time, for nearly seven full years, and nothing in my lease said I could not ever have guests, it was inhuman. If I had a car or truck park in my drive area, be it a cable TV installer, she would scream at me. Judge Judy loves to shout out the word, MOVE, and that's fine, honey these hellish things are not happening to you, it is easy to scream at all of us less fortunate people than you, and tell us to move, when things happen bad to us and it is not our fault. I end up owning the entire park, and hire someone to run it and live it the main house, and the drunkard lady is forced to move into the house next to it with her daughter in law and son. I move out and get a place in Atlantic City, at John and Paula King's great green and white circular building, high up and overlooking the love of my life, the Atlantic Ocean. None of the things happen such as meeting Ed Lynch, meeting his nabes Ann and Dawn, blogging, moving in with them, or losing all my things. There also is never any songs such as “Wanna Spend My Time” and “You'll Be Crossing Over”, and I do not get at all into computers, living very dinosaur day old fashion life, with my nice big square AT&T phone store desktop heavy square telephone, and have nothing to do with any of this bullshit, from all the failed social media experiments, to anything else you can possibly think of. However, one day my distant cousin Martha Stuart, a fifth cousin four times removed, in numerous double in law systems; wrote me a letter and wanted to meet and discuss something. Out of five total universes where I saw this in dreams, this happened in time ranges, from 2010, very late into the year, up through 2011, very late into that year as well. Looking at this, if a few bad moves were not made, the 1969-1980-1994-2011 thing would have kicked in, instead of stopping for the most part on that third PITSY, as you have heard me call these several years of my life, standing for (Port In The Storm Years). In every one of these situations, she basically tells me that there is something happening in my family and that she knows that my mom was going to tell me about it, and was murdered in her sleep with some ritualistic witchcraft spell of some kind. It was up in 2011 where I learned from my Atlantic City north shore apartment in these various parallel universes, that indeed, there was some real bad stuff that was not only done to me as a child and a youth, but that the great powerful families used extremely new and secret methods of getting me to come into their offices claiming I had won a large sum of money in a class action law suit, and when there, was put under a powerful hypnotic state and made to forget a lot of things that have surfaced here in this world, after so much torment and hell I have suffered through. You cannot as we all know, take this kind of information into any court of law and try to argue any kind of anything, as it would be instantly all dismissed as insanity on the part of the plaintiff. Still, I made it my bizz to see through to the end, what happened. I lived in that KING BUILDING in all of them, there never were any blogs, no move to Florida ever happened, and a successful lawsuit against landlady Jenny Plageman forced her to sell me the park for 500 dollars and she was broke after that. Then shortly after awaiting the settlement money to all finalize and go through the system, my distant cousin the famous cooking lady made contact. Her deal was that she for reasons that she was unwilling to divulge to me at that time; would enter into a legal binding 50-50 split, she would sue for me if I gave her standing legally to do so, and I did, and she did, and we won, and this all went through quite fast by middle 2013, in early August, possibly explaining why late last August here in this parallel world was so horrible for me, and started that terrible road down hill to doom and monster bad magnetics. Parallel worlds tend to balance out so that we all have an exact parity and average of the total cosmic life situations, when all the total worlds are viewed as one huge average. She told me in all of these other places where I have visited, that Cuzz Donald is and was worried about how I am one of his loose ends and could potentially make lots of troubles for him down the road, a near quotation. But other deep pockets were also part of the picture, other large financial institutions, and to be frank, the suit named eight total parties we would be suing. Without her help, it would be impossible, and with it, I would need to share 50 percent of what we might win if legally successful. Hay, that was fine with me, as I don't appear to be greedy in any parallel universes, just as I am not here either. The amount in all these parallel worlds that was being sued for was a very large request and me being prime plaintiff and a resident of New Jersey, it had to go to the legal method of operating there, called Jury-Award, and Jersey juries are generous on average, when taken into a national average of all the states. The jury award amount can be fought and you can be in court for a decade, so most people settle, but many settle for a nickel on the dollar of the jury award amount, and neither of us were going to be flim flamed. I could never get a straight answer until the very end in one of the experiences, as to why she was so hell bent on doing this with me, we are very distant and do not know each other at all, as with all of my second and third cousins and so forth. She told me we were going to hold out for 25% of the JAM as they call it, Jury-Award-Amount. The stuff she knew about what was done to me was extensive. It included McGuire and many of the property damage to many of my cars through the years, was him and his hired cronies, she also went onto tell me that he hired some kind of very special people to rig my 1983 spring poisoning at the Atco home that left my health in the toilet for life; and she also seemed to know how my entire life indeed had been sabotaged by powerful people, just as Scott Ransom said, from the days I left school, and none of it was imagined, and she could blow whistles and show real court ready proof, as she had witnesses, documents, the whole nine yards. She told me those rotten Braxton Sisters also played a large hand in a lot of things I tried doing in the tail end of last century and into this one, getting the royal kibosh boot all over it all. The only thing that is weird, is Mariah never fits into any of it, and appears to be unconnected. The only way that I could further pursue knowing why or just knowing more, without risking asking her and maybe messing other things up as is the case with me on so many occasions; would be to try and stay in one of my doubles long enough to ask around and learn in I ever even went to Atlantic City by myself in the year 1969, and if there was a Paula King there, the great Melanie Safka look-alike somnambulist. Unfortunately, I never can learn anything, and always wake up eventually before I can complete the mission with that. The longest I ever took this, or was able to take this, might be putting it better, and more realistic; was into early 2015. We managed to settle for 20, not 25% of the Jersey-JAM. Our suit originally asked the jury to consider a minimum of 362 million dollars. They put a zero onto that, and made it more than three point six billion. Our 20% was countered and tempers flared. But we got it, a fifth of the more than three and a half bill. None of this can ever happen in my universe, and all because Jimmy Stone fired me at Griffin Pipe, without good cause. If fifth dimensional law suits were heard in 21st century court rooms, I would be suing him and his Griffin Pipe for 10 billion, but we all know this is a joke, and I am 200 years or close to it, ahead of my time, as to where the legal system will eventually enter into sociologically acceptable hyperspace truths, far into the distant future times ahead.









I will tell you this much for now. Huge armies of powerful angry and scared people seemed to rally against my wanting to be hypnotized to get to the bottom of what happened to me that changed my life forever, on the night of August 15, 1986, as if they all knew some huge dirty horrible secret or a slew of them. One counselor at a place I went to when a lot of this was all going down in real time in the middle nineties, named Kieth, suffered a nervous collapse and full breakdown, as a direct result of my situation and wanting to be hypnotized. Then another doctor there in this Cherry Hill psych place, shortly after being laced on Federal SS Disability in the autumn of 1994; refused to stop putting me on a schedule where I was forced to run into a girl who looked just like this giant sized Melanie character who I call Paula king, and other names. I begged him not to do this, and he just kept right on making me run into this lookalike girl who raped me at age fourteen and a dam half. I do not know if this dick head doctor quack thought it was funny, some have suggested it could be his stupid idea of getting me past my fears, but I could not handle it,and after this bad situation pursued,; I dropped out of the program and never went back. I have not been to counseling since. Why go if your own mother fuckiGN therapists are going to either be against you, or you make them go nuts and unable to help? You know it is so ashame. I could take a short little part of my nightmare fucking life like this blog, and I could write 700 more just like this one, all in some ways sort of intertwined together, yet all different stories completely. I could literally write and write and write, for 200 fucking years, peeps. Yet you won't plug my story or talk to me, or help me in any way. If I did not think that my audience is basically government agents, and family spies, I would be pretty dumb, and would have really, no right to ask any of you for an ounce of respect.





I have a powerful feeling that I will not live through the year. This is the only thing at all, that brings me some happiness. If the cosmic warden will permit me a release from my life sentence, soon; I would be more than mother fuckiGN grateful as all hell, and I have a feeling, sick as I am, I will be dead quite soon. But when I am dead, I want my jerk off haters to realize the situation you will be facing, if you also not just hate, but took an active part in fuckiGN up my life, covertly and illegally, in any way. Things are in place, and more things yet will be, very soon; to make a lot of people pay, not in money, but in prison time, maybe even possibly in a death sentence, as what was done to me was beyond heinous torture and murder. And I CAN PROVE IT, but not while alive, only my death will prove it, and part of that, will be my autopsy. I have that all worked out. No one will be able to just come in and get my body, it will be sent to labs under armed guard, and there will be a major dissection of me and what was done to me will all come out, and those responsible will be held fuckiGN accountable, I PROMISE YOU!



Posting up just shy of 9:30 AM on 09-14-2014.



THIS PARTICULAR TRANSMISSION TERMINATES.




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