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Showing posts with label Of on homie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Of on homie. Show all posts

Thursday, January 20

A practical, real-world corollary to my previous post, on the MKULTRA program. (Update)

In this cutting edge and (as-of-yet) still largely ill-understood context of mind control

and of relevant government and intelligence agency programs and implementations of such, thereof, my previous post seemed to have foreshadowed some requisition and atonement, for that the context of mind control, and its subjects, being myself, and some of those amongst me, having become a needed issue to have been attended to; to my appreciation, what had been a developing and complicated issue, in the context of the subject (my [group home] neighbor): Omar Andrade having, of recent weeks, become a commonplace and recurrent sleepless madman, he thence had, just yesterday, become subject to his more primitivistic, subconscious, and limbic-minded self, in presenting himself as an individual who had lost control of his inhibitions and rational awareness in life, as a relentlessly outspoken and violently hostile and aggressively-willing mind control aberration. 

It was the first thing in the morning; as for myself, not the most astute time in life to wake up and start the day; it was perhaps 9 a.m., or so. I had, in my youth, more commonly had been accustomed to waking up earlier to start my day; yet I would offer that I’m constantly subject to victimizations, of a mental health disparagement, and, as such, I simply have shortcomings about my life, to attest to, and for that matter, I, in turn, am given license and disclosure as to who displays a lack of social and emotional intelligence, in my proximity, in life, for claims (which seem common) of that such shortcomings and presentations of myself “don’t matter,” or come to be disregarded, being that these are complex issues, obviously, to discuss and intelligibly manage. It’s simply what I had been accustomed to encountering, in making my case known to what establishment and personnel are afforded to me, being that I am a mental health services and benefits recipient, in terms of government programs that were offered to me; as such, and rather, though, as these benefits, such as housing and case management, are received - at this point in time, not all of the mental health service establishments - such as housing, in particular, have sufficiently professionally-licensed and appropriate personnel providing the fulfillments of the mental health program: here, in Los Angeles County, under the LACDMH (Department of Mental Health) program known as Full Service Partnership, in which housing, case management, medication, and perhaps some therapy and psychological (or, at least, psychiatric) behavioral services are provided for individuals. In its fulfillment, as for myself, I do receive these basic services, although mental health abuses are still murky territory, in the criminal justice system, as for who, or how, or even that: mental health abuses are properly addressed - that Omar Andrade, for one, had been a developing and ongoing mind-control aberration, most ostensibly, was an issue that was seen to have been “negligible” in needs-to-be addressed [sorts of] priorities, as far as people I could, and did, reach out to, as far as seeking support in attending to this (acute) crisis, that it had come to - yesterday morning (Wednesday, January 2022), that it was.

Omar Andrade had, for weeks leading up to this acute psychiatric emergency, in which he displayed Axis-1 symptoms of psychotic disorder, consequent to substance use disorder; also having displayed a lack of interest in eating, at proper meal times (eating disorder), and of that his behavior was commonly, and increasingly unstable and hostile towards others, sometimes of an unseen nature, of which I would discern to be the mind-control program’s evidenced presence in his mind, whereas he was a difficult individual to reach, due to an Axis-II sort of behavioral disorder portrayal of himself, in (as far as my own attempts to reach him); his incapability in, or refusal to: show a common courtesy to his housemates, and a lack of empathy and intelligence about displaying any sort of rational regard to a person’s sense of dignity and perhaps superiority over himself, that may be the case, in various instances, whereas he would portray a somewhat playful courtesy to someone in an already established position of authority, such as the house manager; whereas, in this acute crisis incident, of yesterday morning, he was physically aggressive and overtly violent to “simply anyone,” including the group home’s manager - it seemed to, upon deeper psychological analysis, of what was visually ostensible, and, of a critical analysis sort of mind about discerning what the nature of the problem could be - it would be surmised, and asserted, I’d suppose of myself, of that he had simply stayed awake, for too many days and nights, on end, of an ongoing, unsustainable, irrational, and, as had developed, increasingly paranoid and hostile nature towards others - in this instance, of a completely baseless premise, in exerting his hostility towards all people he faced, in the home; this being at around 9 a.m. in the morning, and whereas he was blocking access to and from people’s rooms and accommodations of the household, such as the bathroom, with his violently hostile presentation of himself being the overtly irrational and subconsciously troubled mind, having become a criminal or psychiatric issue, for the police to have attended to. 

There was a great degree of administrative caution in approaching Omar, given that he was barricaded in the restroom when the police showed up, and initially, the house manager disregarded and downplayed my appeals to her, for assistance, the case being as that it was early (somewhat) in the morning, and that commonplace disparagements and a rueful disregard of etiquette and propriety is the characteristic and peculiar, as well as particular mode of conduct about herself (the house manager), whereas I “know better,” and expect better, but this occurrence being of somewhat irrelevant nature, given that the issue was resolved to my appreciation, and that she (the house manager) was generally irrelevant to the acute crisis occurrence that had developed, in the subject’s mind, of some sort of responsibility and irrationality that was the subject’s own willful and willing volition and capability to had established, in his own mind. Comparatively, I’m commonly misled, offered suggestions, and lobbed what would amount to a paranoid and suspicious mind, of others in my common proximity, and these experiences do, in truth, come at a challenging cost of a need to expend a great deal of critical and analytical thought, as well as that a disciplined and thorough self-examination of circumstances and accountability are required of a subject such as myself, as common as Omar Andrade could be, as far as substance use is concerned, whereas the perpetrator commonly and repeatedly displayed a lesser accountability and cares towards composure and restraint, given our needs fulfillment common space and placement in life, given that we were both occupants of the same living space. What had taken place in his mind, such that he found fault in others, to the extent that he decided, of at least his wakeful and present self, that morning, there in the hallway? I have some intimations, and summations, of what had been heard of him, leading up to this occurrence, of that he was culturally overtly proud, and needful, it would seem, of presenting himself as an outspoken individual, whereas, in other instances, he was unstable in his overall persona and present self, being “sometimes” superficially courteous, and, at other times, it would have seemed as though he had courted a happenstance, arbitrary, and chaotic - inconsiderate and semiotically cruel and condescending self, perhaps of a symbolic nature, of an evidently “simply present” will and volition of that he would decide to treat me, and, on this occasion, practically anyone present, with hostility, and so - he got arrested.

Sunday, March 29

Wednesday night - an iPigeon « peeped out » wandering about DTLA; an uncommon demographic to appear in the area; inevitably, I have to sleep, at some point.

Wednesday night, in downtown Los Angeles, California, was a hum-drum paltry showing, mostly, of the typically lively and vibrant social life that feeds the bar and restaurant scene in the area. On this night, it seemed, the locals of the DTLA area were mostly suitably dissatisfied with the offerings of what could be had, « despite all things » of that we were on lockdown, by order of the various higher-level government institutions (actually, all levels of government, I suppose), and the streets were, in turn, filled with a much different, and definitely seedier demographic, of which, I might surmise, was not unfamiliar to me, given some consideration; yet, to have witnessed the Los Angeles County Sheriff's busses entering the Justice Administration building, and the narratives that had spun off, from that, (from that morning) - the linearity of the sinister contexts that unfolded were that of a most "of on homie" « named » gang, of which some of my former peers had strong affiliations with | for, and, as well, strong affections towards. 

I remember the imagery of the persona | man who had stalked me in Santa Monica, detailing, from the time at the crosswalk stop light, throughout the crossing of the street - of that he had pinned me as a targeted subject of study, prior to meeting me; yet here, thankfully, the man presented himself as a woe-stricken, conciliatory, and repentant individual, having been in incarceration, (conceivably), with our interaction leading him there, whereupon we parted ways - the police officer succinctly had told me to "go that way," which was the opposite of where the suspect had been scooched over, on to the sidewalk; the police cruiser separating myself and him. I went to the Santa Monica Police Headquarters, as I had originally been directed to do, when I called 911. (The man continued to follow me, as I was on my way there. He spoke of things, such as "how about we commit some crimes together?" - which I felt was overly seedy and seditious in nature; in addition, he seemed to be aggressively in disavowal of a common space between us, from the moment I observed him - staring at me, wearing sunglasses, whereas he spoke of and at me with familiarity, and he seemed set on acquiring some trinket or token of my person, with this as the outset, of what might have been a different sort of acquaintanceship, otherwise.

Yet, here, in his desperate recants of his behavior, and of the people who had enticed his vulnerable-state self with notions of some notions of that "of on homie," for it's seditious and capricious nature; for it's formative declarations of sedition and caprice - novel, to some; mindlessly irresolute, though, I'd say. Yet seemingly (and easily) hundreds, if not thousands, of same such-wise formative individuals seemed out in staunch force, in Downtown Los Angeles, as I attempted to sleep through the night next to a Metro rail station by Staples Center, and the Convention Center, in a parking lot. A drunken man, otherwise sociable, flaunted features of that I could not help but not sleep, for his ministrations, of a decidedly Latino etymology - his pidgins, which were threatening and ominous in nature, as well as [perhaps] grandiose, in that he seemed to believe, (or have tactical awareness of my positioning, and travails, leading up to "parking it," at the parking lot, where I imagined that others (losers, perhaps, like myself, I might similarly have seemed), yet - 

Even the children we're fraught with problematic behavioral conditions - on one hand, they were older, for that age that they obviously were, audibly, as youthful teenagers, or was it that they had simply been of the age to receive oppositional-defiant personality disorder, their forebears, as well, and that none of them, of the conditional of, of the affiliation to "of on homie," the gang, whereas it's simply a bit troubling, in that some of them present themselves as kind, charitable, and sociably well-to-do, and just earlier that day, with me, in fact. 

The problem is, is that these "of on homie" behaviors and mannerisms are imbued in to subjects wittingly, and with effort; whereas the man who had stalked me was one to recant, and rebuke: the affiliation, the lies, the impropriety of the flimsy institutional underpinnings of the organization, whereas many others were | are treated with caution, for showing up, in the general public, on a Wednesday night, me, being one known, and self-aware individual-as-targeted-victim, some various other errata of things that perceivably went on, during the course of such an influx of revelers, of the Wednesday night, that it was, whereas there must | ought to be some compromise, in solution to the obviated problems, of that they were, many of them: disheveled, not well-assertively-bespoken, of the words that they would say, some of them gay, or seditiously so. Had I posted my other blog on "some guy" on the morning of this Wednesday? I believe so. He pulled some sorry drunken gay guy stuff on me; it made me think on Covid-19 social distancing demands, that (supposedly) everyone would have caught wind of, or at least have noticed, out in society, of that « something » was amiss. 

In any case, that was this passing Wednesday, March 25th, on my end. 

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