DAY 7
I’ve relapsed on a diet of dope and The
Fantasy Channel during my leave and am now actually suffering from an acute
onslaught of voices back in the hospital. I am being physically harassed from
adjacent rooms too, with very tailored and specific knocks from gang-stalkers
on the walls and ceilings. I went for a smoke outside reception and the noises
were coming unseen from the car park. If they can physically harass me in a
secure government hospital then they can harass me anywhere. I know my
neighbours and my girlfriend’s neighbours have already been harassing me for months
but this is another level. I am also hearing screaming and sounds of torture
from adjacent rooms. This I am now accustomed to but it never gets any less
disturbing. It feels real, not V2K at all. The confusion is the hardest thing.
Have a sincere dread of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I’m seeing faces in the floor. They’re
morphing, like animations. Imagine the darkest LSD trip of your life and you’re
halfway there. I can’t look. I’m also receiving images directly into my brain,
bypassing the optic nerve, graphic and indecent, so I can’t close my eyes. And
let’s not forget the tactile hallucinations: itches and twitches and prods and
pokes all over my skin.
I can hear my loved ones being skinned and
raped and the perpetrators taunt me as they do it (my mum is begging me to kill
myself). I can hear deceased family members as well, all suffering. The sounds are very precisely located to come from behind walls and
doors, not in my head at all. I’m as scared as a baby, too scared to even wanna
help anyone. Going into catatonic withdrawal. I’ve been in some kind of
horrible program for most of my life and it’s a synthetic Hell on Earth. The
official term is Non-Touch Torture, and it just shouldn’t exist. But it does. It's called Zersetzung, and was used by the Stasi. The word means 'corrosion', or death by a thousand cuts, if you like. Nothing is
deserving of this cruelty. I regret ever meeting those responsible for my
harassment. I expect them to walk in with Grandmaster Freemason regalia on, and
sacrifice me. I’ll be skinned and preserved then shipped to a customer in
Russia for eternal torture, like in that movie, Hostel. That’s what I’ve been
promised. After I give up, of course. Death is just the beginning.
But I’ll never give up, so bring it on. As
Winston Churchill once said, “When you’re going through Hell, keep going.”
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