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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