So I wake up earlier and earlier. It pleases My Master to watch me suffer. I have very vivid dreams when I try get to sleep at night. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night - still dreaming. When I was a child, in the Reagan Decade, the actor turned President of the United States "allowed" quite a number of ultra-violent movies to be released. It's important to know one or two things about Reagan. Most important would have to be the sheer number of flicks that came out with violent content. Most famous of the "Blood Spill" movies that I got to see as a child were the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series - of which over a dozen have / were eventually produced. The stories make very little sense at all, and you literally have to have the intellect of a complete murder to even follow what's going on them. The gist, though, was that there was a man who was "powerful enough" to invade people's minds. While they sleep, he attacks them and slashes them, and dismembers them... etc... Then, in real life, they die.
I have a mandatory government electronics kit in my body. I am not alone here in Dallas. I have a set of very small speakers that were surgically implanted into my ears - and I don't like this. The computer operator who runs the broadcasts that are sent to the micro-chips inside me is a real bastard. Over the past two decades, the people who are working for and running these hypno-programming computer centers inside American Cities have come up with dozens - hundreds even - of "psychological combinations" that include video, audio, and other body-gland electrical stimulation filaments in our bodies to make us "do stuff." I don't know much about what is planned for me on any given day. I might wake up one morning feeling great - after 8, 9, 10 full hours of sleep. The stories about sleep start to seem like half the screams that many people in this city would like to be shouting. I don't speak for other people, and I don't try to do that so much - because it next to impossible to know what is going on in the mind of another slave with micro-chip implants.
I am not on the exact same plane as other people are. I have a long, colored, checkered history with what I have called "The Department" - but have used many names for them over the years since 1995 & 1996 when this authoritarian-sexual-political regime began. For the other people in Dallas, not all of them were sitting in a comfortable dormitory room in Cambridge, Massachusetts (Harvard, M.I.T.) wondering why all of a sudden the were "hearing voices and seeing things" for no reason whatsoever. I don't actually know what the typical Dallas Citizen was doing in 1996. Being 45 years old at this point, I know that many of the younger generation of people weren't even born at that time. The depression in my life is usually at its peak when I'm wondering what percentage of the people I am seeing, and what percentage of the homes I'm looking at have micro-chip implanted slaves living in them. I don't know how many of the people in Dallas are micro-chipped slaves. I don't. I also don't know - of the citizenry who is implanted - how many of them have screamed, kicked, and fought in their homes about the chips that are sending them signals in the first place.
But I am a different person than other people. I have a long history with "North Dallas Brain Control" - which I sometimes just call "The Department." Although I hate the thought of kidnapping somebody, and cutting them open to install the latest version of Microsoft Windows in their bodies - I also know that "being lulled into idiotic complacency" about it all (for me) is going to result in disastrous failure in my personal life. I have been subjected to torture. Words like "M.I.T. and Harvard" mean absolutely nothing to the typical Dallas Citizen. Mostly, I know that a huge percentage of the people that are living as Radio-Broadcast Implant-Slaves are lulled into complacency and "compelled" to take jobs that are what an educated person would call "menial labor." There is no city in the world - like Dallas - where the sheer number of auto-body garages, gas-stations, and used-tire stores probably outnumbers all other businesses in the metro-plex. The people up in the office towers - the office towers that run these mind control broadcasts - watch them through the millions upon millions of cameras that have been installed in this city. I don't know how many cameras there are, but you cannot go very far, anywhere, without passing at least 5 of them in the first five minutes of walking this city.
The front desk of the hotel where I live there are four giant TV monitors showing all the image they are recording - showing bragging if you will - that "Big Brother" is indeed watching us. But everybody knows this right? I'm not offering new information, right? Well, have I offered you any "new information" at all? I don't know where the video feeds go. I really don't. Certainly I could not ask the front desk who or what is watching the video feeds - I would be asked to leave the property within three minutes of such a conversation. Certainly I cannot go inspecting them, My Master usually forbids me from leaving the house without his permission, and the gland controls of my body can be very convincing.
So I woke up this morning. The Department knows that I want them dead. The department knows that I would give me life to shoot their offices to hell. You know what their favorite tactic is with me? When they know that I'm upset, and would prefer me to just shut my mouth - they love doctoring up audio / video feeds of me running around Police Stations and Court House with everything from a machine gun to a machete attacking and killing cops and judges. To me, it all turn into a giant blur. 25 years trying to discuss computer programming - from an intellectual point of view, rather than an organized crime syndicate point of view - and my mind (me, who I am) starts to think "Well, if you give me some machine guns, Master, I would gladly go and shoot up The Country Court House if you think it will help put a stop to government sex trafficking and slave trafficking (torture)." I, personally, have not owned any weapons in my adult life. No matter what the television broadcast syndicates are spouting off, there is not a sizeable percentage of the population who is armed or ever permitted to own weapons. They do not allow the purchasing of armaments for the vast majority of the slave population of the United States. In many, many cases, the people who own weapons are pressured to become law-enforcement personnel eventually.
So, I am often accused of being "the bad guys" by the U.S. Government's crack squad of Brain Control and Sexual Organ Control Slave-Traffickers. Isn't that a mouthful? It's not that I don't hurt as bad as other people in this city hurt when the insults, the derogatory language, the pornographic filth starts up via the chip-implants in my eyes and ears. I do hurt badly, just like everybody. But rather, it is the number of years that this type of abuse has continued. For dozens upon dozens of reasons, I have never been converted into an auto-body mechanic (although I have made offers to my master about working in an auto-garage) ... I have never been converted into a Mexican Lawn Care Professional driving around Dallas with a trailer hitched to the back of my pickup truck. When a slave isn't lulled into the mindless complacency of menial labor, the crack platoon employees of North Dallas Brain Control has a tendency to become violent, viscous, lewd, insulting, pornographic, sexually abusive, and psychologically abusive. They have myriad of stories about my life saved on their computers. There is not a thread of decency or respect for people's rights in these places.
So this morning, to anger me, "Hey Torello, is this what you were thinking about doing to us today?"
And there I was... laying in my bed... Freddy Krueger "The Dream Master" conjured up a story about me running around the County Court Room going from Court-Room to Court Room - dragging judges (male and female) and chopping them into pieces with a machete. I was laying their, my wife was sitting in the bed next to me - and I get to think about being Rambo - fighting back to a system that is destroying the fabric of society. I get to think about lighting off gas-laden gasoline tanks and burning these ministers of injustice to the ground ... liberating the people of Dallas.
I mean... sure... Sexual Abuse is worth fighting a battle about. Sure... I mean - I cannot even get out the front door on any given day of the week without my master's permission, but I am permitted to lay in my bed and think about becoming John J. Rambo shooting up the Police Stations in Dallas as I attempt to liberate the people of this city. Sure, I would love to do that. Do you know what this type of psychological operation does to people? It hurts them. Audio-Video Broadcasts into our bodies, Audio-Video Broadcasts into micro-chips inside our eyes and ears cause us extreme amounts of distress, pain, anger, exhaustion and depression. It keeps me weak. It keeps me unable to fight anything, anyone or anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment