21st Century Gossip

When all of my ‘schizophrenic’ voices are harassing my innermost sanctum, my mind and my soul, they keep egging each other on to keep ranting bull crap over me. “Keep your power up over it,” they say to one another. Apparently, when a consortium of bullies criminally pester a vulnerable brain with no privacy, using thought implantation via electromagnetic weaponry, and steal away the very essence of life (its ability to think, like breathing), it’s called power. All they rant on about is power. Mind-reading and organised stalking isn’t power, it’s cowardly. If I had a sole harasser, an enormous bodybuilder or something, and he tormented me to my face on my doorstep, or came in and battered me on regular intervals, then shat on my bed, I’d respect something about it. But constantly whispering nonsense and chatting bubbles via secretive methods of microwave hearing is nothing like that. The things they say over their evil tech doesn’t resemble what they’d dare say to you in public.

I keep replying back to them that real power is industry and revolution, engineering, building and order in civilisation. I ask them to pick on the steel magnets and the oil tycoons. Why not pick on a wealthy banker, or an architect, or a grand designer? Take a look around, at all the property in the world. Cathedrals, shopping arcades, mega structures, symmetrical neighbourhoods, viaducts, bridges, damns, canals. Then we have warships and fighter aircraft, jumbo jet planes and submarines. The white house. The houses of parliament. Military bunkers. Worldwide conglomerates and businesses and fraternities and institutions. Doesn’t all this reek of true power? The police force. If I were an alien visiting earth, and I was obsessed with power like my voices are, these are the destinations I would first head for. Would you seriously pick on just one mind in a council estate and bombard the living daylights out of it with death threats and torture promises every waking second of its adult life? Would you hire cronies to follow them around, spreading slander and being rude on purpose? Would you illegally enter their property and move things around, to terrify them? What’s powerful about a gang of intimidators picking on a lonely individual and driving it towards induced suicide? That’s nothing more than mere wimpy cruelty. Of the highest order. Or should I say the lowest.

When the non-touch torture, or soft-kill, first begins, you revere your tormentors like royalty. V2K is call the Voice Of God for a reason. I don’t know about you when growing up, but I didn’t believe telepathy was possible. When it hits you bang-slap in the head, you tend to instantly think that you are dealing with a higher power. I never thought that science would ever be able to fathom out what a person was thinking deep inside. Your thoughts are private, aren’t they? They can’t be sensed or heard. I was so wrong. But before I knew I was wrong, and got informed, my mind was completely blown by the technology being used to sadistic effect upon me. Not only could they read my internal monologue of words, but they could see what my Third Eye was seeing, and even control it, so I saw things in my mind which they wanted me to see. Not too bad if you’re in a shotgun communion with beautiful pixies from a distant pleasantly-spiritual planet, but not so great if you’re being interfered with by a bunch of nutters and sado-masochists who drink infants blood for supper. Welcome to psychic warfare and mind control in the 21^st century. I still almost don’t believe some of it myself. I wouldn’t even share it here, because I know that you just wouldn’t buy what I was saying. Invisibility, teleportation, and intergalactic beings sharing your bed with you are only the half of it.

Now I find them difficult to believe because of their stupid petty attitude. Seriously, they are hard to describe. It’s like fighting a gaggle of prepubescent children. I try my hardest to treat them with a modicum of respect, for, despite being inhuman devil’s blood, they are still life form. But any compassion gets flung back in my face. They know absolutely nothing apart from pain and suffering and evil. And being senseless, useless, pitiful cowards. So no, I’m not scared of their cosmic tactics anymore, and I won’t be leaving my home because of their assassins to be driven to desperation in a night shelter or hostel. I’ll be doing zilch, and certainly not spinning round in fearful circles, like I used to. So there. F**k off, evildoers, and take your fake schizophrenia and all the rest of it with you.