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Showing posts with label hate crime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hate crime. 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.

Saturday, October 30

Virtual 13th Step 12 Steps Meeting: The Search for Ether Absolute.

 It’s a challenge; discovering life as a circumcised individual, in sobriety contexts. 

On one hand, I didn’t even know that I was circumcised, to begin with. A former friend queried me, one day, during my early teenage years, and he popped the question upon me. I probably said something like, “huh? Oh, well, umm… yeah, it’s like… uh, that, I guess.” He replied, “that’s sick!” For my foreign countries readers, in the last appearance of a society’s generation (this was the time of Generation X; now we are in the Millennial Generation, I would suppose), saying “that’s sick!” could be tantamount to “that’s so awesome | cool!” or it may just be a ruse to implicate analytical sarcasm and disinformation, upon the recipient. The guy has a “sickening” habit of speaking disingenuously, and callously. We’re no longer friends, because he ignores responding to things that I ask him, whereas he seemed to be significantly engaged in torturing my loved ones, as well as myself; as if I could possibly be dumber than he is, in simple remote-sensing perceptions. 

Once, I got talked in to (in my head) sending the guy a photo of me, with my pants down. Nowadays, I have an xvideos quick take on myself, contextually xvideos… <_<, and anyone is free to discover that stuff. From then until now, I had, (or would) hardly conjure up, in my mind, just as I had been, as a youth, as an adolescent - I’d been unaware of this “difference” about me. I’d been flashed pee-pees of other guys, and they were “different,” too, but different from me, (I only really saw one of them, the other was inside of pool water, and the guy tried to make a deal of that we both do it, together, but I wasn’t really in to it, because I was taught not to do that sort of thing). What had become of some of these guys? A Dick Big Now? out of them, or something? Back then, a Dick Bigg would have been the ultimate. Nowadays, given some years in to adulthood, and some private time, left alone, who could claim that they hadn’t indulged all sorts of sexual fetishization amusement and erotic moments, based upon seedy-seeming niches? - whereas the Dick Bigs were a youthful transgression, and imperative demand, upon a future lover, of that their dick big now status would consummate of that they were over, and not possibly made of a little dickie fetishization, of their “still” pornography-indulgent minds - that’s what I figure: a dick bigg now kind of guy couldn’t possibly, over a large average of individuals, comparatively, be all that much better off, in abstaining from temptation, given certain circumstances, such as having no partner, incurring internalized criticism, rebuke, and humiliation, at the hands of peers or authorities, or, even within the structure of a heterosexual romantic relationship, of that the female leaves, while the male is still consummately a drug addict, and abuser, and he, in turn, in moments such as this, would inevitably, at least sometimes, still turn to pornography, for his satiety. 

I never got a requited dick photo from these guys, in return. 

Nowadays, in dick-centric circles, a bwopp-dick faggot sort of profile gets a lot of fluff, and respite, from the participants, who imagine, and live down - vastly illegal and intoxicated sorts of mindsets about “outing” the guy with an uncircumcised penis, sort of thing, going on (goes on). The hazing, drunken groups gathering, the remote-sensing stalking, the interrogations and accusations (witch hunting), the targeting of connections to the individual (isolation and casualties), the threats of public strangers, who show up to target the individual (gang stalking), and the disavowal and threatening of victims of the opposite sex (human trafficking, sexism, and bullying) - all of these things, and even at that, perhaps it’s not all and everything said, on the matter. It’s upsetting stuff, at issue, here, and the depravities are stacked one upon the other, quite richly. The guys establish an entire lifestyle basis of a claim, in superiority, of that, and this; this and that, and they decide, collectively, amongst themselves, that their claims, demands, and all-extents considerable - courses of action, are justified, of an un-Christian decree, and basis, whereas they had done themselves a dick bigg, through hormonal and supplemental augmentation. I had not known about any such stuff, whatsoever, until I became schizophrenic at age 30, and the angry confessions, after years of having been veiled, under abuses that I burdened, and at some point, I became aware of the fact that these individuals really are - at least, in some, or many instances, conceivably, and believably - certainly doing these things to me; to my figurative and imaginary self. They found themselves a sort of no rebuke to be seen, nor consequence. 

Sometimes, these players, in life, circle themselves amongst the psychiatric community, or the local fire station, and they demand the material resources of anesthesia, or some sort of carbon monoxide concentrate; as a perfumer, such concentration and specialty is otherwise known as an absolute: in this case, it would colloquially be known as ether absolute, from an etymology bearing upon Johnny Depp and Guillermo Del Toro, in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, based on the writings of Hunter S. Thompson. Sometimes, in a downwind position, in life, an ether faucet would be unfurled, or some sort of strange, sadistic, ritualistic establishment, of strangeness, under the care of a strange-minded person (reiterative, but I could speak worser names upon people) - I’ve come to understand this sort of passive-aggressive intent unto dominance, over me, as a relegation and rebuke of the fact that I happen to have been circumcised, as a child. I simply have the mind of that I just “didn’t know” any different, and by the time I figured out that people had been abusing me over the matter, in private and collusive groups, and of a callous and calculating mind, that it were, half of a lifetime, or “most” of a lifetime, perhaps, so to speak, had passed - age 14 when I discovered that I was different, and age 30, or later, when I had begun hearing voices, and years gone on, after that, that I had discerned that this sort of penis envy issue - which is supposed to be a female’s plight, in early childhood, according to the literature, was significantly, and commonly an issue of dissent, and of attrition towards me. 

What more could I offer the people? Aside from my pornography, when I became good enough and ready to do it? Hmmpf. The demands of people for whom all of pornography is not, had not been - not been good enough for them, or that they had begun to claim that they cannot satisfy themselves - me, as simply just different, yet I scarcely receive “valid” (forensically analyzed) claims, of merit, of that women are displeased with my manner and attitudes, as well as my behavior, potentially being at issue. I figure that the ones who do complain, had been taken in, by the men, of the abusive clarion call decree, in society, and they act out, in a Stockholm Syndrome manner, within this context at issue. 

I’m not sure what else to say. Sometimes the words simply fail to have any meaning, and people enter in to abusive and inferior types of relationships possible, with such a person as that would do such a thing to me.

Monday, February 4

The importance of making good on consumer purchases in integrity in development.

I purchased my monthly General Relief ($221 USD) welfare budget mostly at Target at the University of Southern California USC Village shopping center.

They've got some truly rare gems of offerings, some of these at comparatively better than expected prices.

I bought another RCA Viking ÏÏ Tablette, as I saw it as a great product, comparatively, from last month's purchase of the same item, with which I was able to attain a lot of good Google Play Store downloads in my searches, and I made some good progress in establishing iPigeon outings to further my pigeons carnival aspirations in a slow and dedicated manner, still decades to come, I'm sure, until they're truly carnival-ready pigeons of DTLA.

On the next day, I had been wandering around the nearby Figueroa Blvd. area, as well as around South Park and Grand in DTLA, as it was raining intermittently, and heavily, and it was particularly cold, at that.

I had gotten my feet soggy, and I'd been doing some [somewhat] gravitationally-perpective-vanishing point scaling surveying work with my Bushnell (*my - I found it laying outside) passive laser golf device "thing," (not quite sure of the model itself, but I looked it up, and it was valued at $300). I noticed (since I'm nearsighted in one eye, and mostly regular-sighted in the other eye) that, in intervals, the telescopic features of the concave and convex lenses, with the measured scaling I was practicing, in survey and grade work - which I had determined I was capable in achieving in slight measures; definitely beyond my singular and subjective personal belief. 

[Perhaps there were also ... ? Hmm... well, people were working at the new park over on the other side of the street on Grand at 11th]


I had, (also), collected and retained some of my poop from the night before, which was somewhat a fortuitous and strangely burgeoned development purpose, in that I had started to become a bit irked, acutely; 

...

It was stuff happening over the course of the day, actually. I was upset about this trawled out "showing up where I'm at" thing about last caseworker I had, and her supervisor's supervisor...

Stuff like that. I was more attracted to the supposed higher up 2nd supervisor, but I found the structure somewhat strange; it was as though a bunch of people somehow had to "manage my case," in which case, they're making money off of me; 

Meanwhile I had been getting verbally abused by remote personae; this had been going on for years, decades, even. 

One lady ; ... well, she was my case manager, Rochelle Williams, that she named herself, had stated that she does not clean her own home, and I found her to be - on first meeting her, constituently something of an unprofessional « off-hand » 

Then the group of them collaboratively established me in getting hospitalized for supposed psychiatric emergency; potentially with severely depraved intimations of violence towards my mother in having been committed against me as what had transpired while I was hospitalized. 

She later had it out in the local DTLA newspaper, somewhat ad hoc with a journalistic imaginative freedom, (most perhaps-ly) as Richelle Huizar, a momentary wife caught up in and that had played out as an FBI raid upon a city counilman's data. 

It was a time of November, of « even years » ...? or do these things happen every year? Elections; sorts of stuff. 

It (not to become overly Tolstoy, intentionally), was also a time of significant egotism, strife about class-needs and demands: amongst imprisoned solitary few - here, again, the victimization of the Eastern European Caucasians, as "Jews," [as people would decry, and as have of them], and of the Cantonese Chinese, as Christian missionary-taught Protestant faithful. 

There was a whole lot of "just kidding" glance-backs at the cause as a purpose in life, and a lot of traumatic screams; there were the hospitalizations, much traffic on the streets as violently anti-social and as civic activists beyond lawfulness being attested to. 

There was much of confusion of syntactical structure; we've come a significant farce from claiming so many things of former years; some of these many I'd largely expect to simply be years on, in being younger than myself, my age at this time being age 36. 

There were lies about process fulfillment, as intimated could would did done happening, and that was in words, that it happened, yet of all that, still unfulfilled. 

There were statements as towards, "well, why not just violently revolt against all of us?"

In truth, I'd been the one to not detriment the few who have friendly faces about themselves in my common daily life, as it passes; and at that, many unfamiliar unfriendly, and some, familiarly rude... 

What might could I really say, of some measure; and then it came to suggesting of violence [this had already happened, and it happened to me, first, and beyond compulsion, in to other collaborative efforts, of a suggestively depraved-magnitudes in, in having been established, as purpose as cause for the reason for so many things, to explain, at a certain point of comprehension]. 

On one hand, simply understanding that collaborative efforts had been established, beyond lies, first and foremost; 

I'd say that that's a sorry start to a first-hand disposition and objectively subject of focus in life as a remote, off-camerata personae talker (improper; of usage, perhaps), 

and they'd simply decided to be that way in life. On one hand, I couldn't say that I much could have known much better about them in order to have treated them well, given that I'd not met them, or had hardly been acquainted, or introduced properly, at all. 

Getting in the way of development work.

Given that I'd been made (scientific control environment) fearful of things that matter to me, and that the subject is my mother, and that I'm being targeted, as well;

I'd spoken on a few days, morning through night, as best as my mind could establish work logic productivity purpose to suit, 

I made some people the topic of subject at hand.

Given that sort of discourse,

It's been established that some people, perhaps had been establishing themselves, somewhat, as cannibals amongst a professionalism (of ethics, in work practice) expectation upon my life that is obviously strange, to consider.

* Redundant, (establishing), but that's how it came out, as far as I would, and do have "had attempted," as face-to-face interactions that've been established (*again, lol) as [as overseen], unsuccessfully kiosk-as-personae walk-up constituency that's most common of being claimed as such that would be that to deride, as having had never been established in life; of my mother, for example. Me, as well; fairly much, that they treat me as; claiming further defeats upon me to come, and a hopelessly to-be: unfulfilled American dream of all manners of positive nurturing environment in psychological backdrop that I'm allowed of myself, for the virtues that I'd been raised with, and corrected about, as that there'd been deprecations along the way, yet strange, that they'd attack my mother at her home, to be sure.

That being said, there are small and measurable gains to be made in development work for the sake and manner of establishing ethical small steps in dedication to finery in mannerisms and in etiquette. 

I'd been slated a bum, for various reasons I'd call less than more than they do, as far as words that I'd put it as, yet small steps to be taken; a long road in establishing virtue in purpose in life. 

These things signify aesthetics, authenticity, singularity, as well as developmental purpose in sustainability and progress.

Sunday, October 28

I keep getting put out of my spot where I can charge my device and get online; now I'm on the corner trying to get some money.

CanOn top of that, I had my bag of warm clothes stolen from me the other day, 


and I was yelled at, in the restroom, at Target at USC, for no particular reason except that I was homeless and smaller than a larger man.


I had supposed that it was not that disparaging, since the man was Japanese, and he had a particularly expectable Asian restraint on himself, as far as an immediate violent threat was concerned,


yet he was threatening, nonetheless, and it's a bit strange to begin with. On one hand, it's so ostensible of a dysfunctional family life that he lives out, of any sort of thing to consider about himself. Aside from that, I would suppose that he takes drugs, every now and then, just like I do, except that I'm in the more acutely threatened and disparaged situation and circumstance in life. 

I was followed to GP Recycling Center by black people. It's turning out, in all sorts of ways, that black people simply choose to fuck with me and my family, and supposedly it's alright; then Hispanic and Mexican young people pick up the slack and hold it down for minorities against a Chinese / white / Eastern European guy. 

It's simply been so many simply minorities and blacks, and whites, and Asians, of various sorts, that I can't much but help significantly being of an oppositional and hateful sort to so many people. No one has ever apologized about it, and people have been glorifying breaking in to my home and disparaging my works of art and literature. 







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