This has been a journey from hell as I live day-by-day in the world of organized stalking.
Through all of the terror, it has become quite obvious to me that, no matter what these criminals choose to call themselves, it is plain to see that these jokers really do need to get a life of there own. Why is it so difficult for them to see that destroying our lives is not making theirs any easier? It is sad that they glorify in ‘beating you up’ no matter if they know you or not. Their power reigns in secrecy. They pretty much do what they want to do and as long as no one is attempting to question or defeat them, they can make your life look and be whatever they want. They are truly hateful, evil people for no reason whatsoever. Do you think that they get a kick out of hurting others? Sure they do (as long as they can get away with it).
My adventures in targeting have not ceased to end.
Just this past Sunday and Monday, my daughter (who is spending the remainder of her summer with me before going back to school) and I were, unfortunately, harbored within an emergency homeless shelter in Downtown Atlanta. My auntie that I was living with (as some of you know) finally got her wish and I left her home with my daughter in tow. She was specific in saying that she did not want me sleeping on her couch or on her floor and that she never expected that I would be in her home for so long.
(Of course, I never expected to be ganged up on and radiated by my ‘Christian’ family, either, yet, it happened.)
I guess that the price for bribes may have become to much for her to handle but how is that my fault? Their participation was voluntary and I had nothing to do with it. Oh yeah, sure, it was my choice to play the victim in a mountain of criminal activity in order to ruin years of my own life. Seriously? No, I do not think so. They may want to re-evaluate their theory if they believe that to be true. If I have known anyone who was Mafia-affiliated, believe me, they never volunteered the information even though I have witnessed multitudes of illegal activity by people that I have known even before I knew about gang stalking. Would I have called them gang stalkers or a criminal cabal then? Absolutely not. I barely knew anything about it and had no interest in learning about it. Frankly, I had my own life to live.
Anyway, as I was saying…
At the beginning of the week, my daughter and I were making due in a homeless shelter for two days. It was by far, the worst housing experience that I have ever had and it made me so sad that this place was the only option that I had at the time. It was also an experience that I would never care to repeat. I would rather (like my daughter) be the one that is helping out the homeless rather than being the one who is.
This particular shelter was located on a horrible block in the city. As my daughter and I walked towards the entrance, I noticed that both sides of the street were flooded with homeless people and when the wind blew, there was the gasping smell of urine. I remember seeing an apartment building across the street that had a fence surrounding and, as it was, the homeless were using it as a clothesline. There was all types of trash everywhere. The scene was absolutely horrible. It was definitely the ‘real’ homeless experience. In my opinion, even the movies missed out on doing ‘homelessness’ justice. Some documentaries have been close, though.
The funny part of this experience was that the areas surrounding that particular block really weren’t that bad. The Fox Theater was within walking distance. You know, it was almost silly to see that a great part of the area was almost immaculate in comparison with the exception of some of the homeless scattered here and there attempting to sleep at bus stops and in parks. It was so weird.
I was really amazing that people actually lived like that, and some of them ‘like’ it! I kept thinking that everything that I was seeing was not real. How could anyone allow this type of shameful living exist? It almost felt to me that this particular block must be some type of adaptation experiment. Emory Hospital was right across the street. Why were they not participating in improving the well-being of the homeless that were right there under their noses? It just didn’t make sense. Especially, when their was so much ‘obvious money’ surrounding the area. If any of it was a joke, then someone has a very ‘sick’ sense of humor.
The room in which we slept was filthy and everyone that slept there had to sleep side-by-side on sticky plastic mats that were placed on the floor from one end of the room to the other. (It was a good thing that I had a sleeping bag in tow.) I remember that there was barely any walking room as I maneuvered through the infant and adult bodies attempting to rest on the floor. Families were even piled in the hallways. It was amazing to me to see how poorly this place was being kept up and how animistic people were being treated. I swear that I almost broke down in tears to the horror. I knew that I did not belong there but what can you do when your being pushed in that direction as if you do? Pushed as if it was a part of your norm? Believe me, it was the first time that I have ever been subjected so candidly to such a meagerly way of life. And as I have said before, the shit wasn’t funny. While in the shelter, the radiation of my body did not stop either. A young woman came in later, after curfew and, coincidentally, was placed on a mat beside my daughter and I. She obviously was a plant because I soon began to get ‘microwaved’ as soon as I tried to close my eyes to sleep. As if situations weren’t bad enough.
I can also recall that the curfew was at seven o’clock, whereas, we were all caged in together until five ‘o’clock the next morning. Their was a shower list that had to be signed if you wanted to bathe. Food was not provided. If you were hungry and had no money, there was a ministry across the street from the shelter that provided food and other provisions. Thank goodness that I didn’t have that experience, though. Not to say that what the ministry served may have not been worthwhile. All I am saying is thank God for food stamps and the surprisingly nice Publix down the street. My daughter and I were able to eat some rather decent meals from there. Our only problem was keeping things cool because we had no cooler. Somehow, the problem still worked itself out. There were even various groups that parked in the shelter parking lot, occasionally, that gave out cold water, food, and clothing to the homeless. Honestly, the one thing that really disgusted me about one of their charitable visits was that they left the clothes, that they attempted to give away, on the ground in that filthy parking lot. It felt to me as if they had little to no respect for the homeless at all by doing that. Seemingly, they were viewed as lesser than dogs that were more than welcome to go sniffing around in their left-overs. Do you really think that I would allow my child or I would wear something that I found in the street? It was disgusting, yet the homeless swarmed in. This group could have easily have left these wares with the ministry across the street but, instead, they just left them in the street. Really people?
Furthermore, I would also like to say that I was very proud of my daughter. She was very resilient and so brave (like her mommy). We even had a lot of adventures. I was being dragged everywhere. After taking Tuberculosis and Syphilis testing at a clinic across from Grady Hospital (which was required by the shelter), my daughter eventually convinced me to take her to Underground Atlanta where we passed the time before lock-down at the shelter. We had the a lot of fun, although, she did mention that she had gotten tired of everyone calling me her sister. It was hilarious!
One thing that really pissed me off about our small adventure, though, was that I noticed that my daughter was being treated the same way as I have been by total strangers. They were constantly pointing their bony fingers at her (a 14-year old teenager) like they do to me all the time. The finger pointing in which I have discovered was called ‘voodoo’. Now, I have realized why my daughter has undergone so much. Something tells me that she has been targeted too. These criminals really need to leave our children the hell alone.
Now, as to the rest of my story, well, eventually, someone was brave enough to allow my daughter and I to stay in their home away from the shelter. Needless to say, I am no longer in Lithonia or Conyers, Ga. My one ‘supposed’ real friend who actually has a home of her own in Loganville, Georgia, as well, turned her back on me. She pretended that she wanted to help me out with some ideas on where I could move to but bailed on me. Not in these exact words, she said something to this effect, quoting, “I would let you stay with me but I’m going through a divorce.” What makes this even sadder is that we are both from the same city in Virginia, born and raised. We also went to high school together and her son and I were born in the same hospital a day apart. We shared M&M’s there with another high school friend who, just so happens to live in Georgia, as well. Could they have possibly been plants by the mob? Was I actually being deviled against longer than I thought? My inquiring mind would really like to know.
It did not surprise me when she stopped returning my calls simply because she was a relative to one of my known gang stalkers who retired from the NFL. I was not surprised in the least. It was as if, she enjoyed the fact that I was miserable and homeless. It did not even matter to her, it seems, that my daughter was with me. She really made it seem that she did not care. It hurts me that my ‘ex-friend’ was someone that my daughter actually misses. As you see, in gang stalking, you will really begin to see who does and does not really care about you no matter how long you have known them. I really wish that I could escape their network but, unfortunately, I am stuck. The more that they know about what I am doing, the worse off I get. Still, it does not stop me from writing about it because I refuse to accept that everything that they do towards me must be one-sided. I would rather back myself up with the truth against their lies any day.
I eventually found help from an almost total stranger. Thank God for her. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand the smell of urine surrounding myself and my daughter. Blessed Be! This particular person also invited my daughter and I to a live taping of the Steve Harvey “Family Feud” show. So guess what I was doing yesterday folks! Yep, you got it. We were sitting just a few rows away from Steve Harvey live and in the flesh as he hosted the “Family Feud”! The breaks were hilarious. I must say, he is really funnier in person. Thanks Steve for an awesome show! I do have to say that it was a great ending to a very insane week. I wish that I could do things like that more often. It was the third time that I have been in a place that was being viewed on national television. The second time was when I was a visitor of New Birth Missionary Church pastor ed by Bishop Eddie Long (my Christian Family’s church home).
Just in case some of you didn’t know, I was actually a guest on the Tempsett Bledshoe show in the 90’s. I was being re-united with someone that I knew from high school whom, at that time, resided in California. It was really fun. The lights and cameras, I have found, weren’t so bad. I pray for more days in a ‘positive’ spotlight.
Thanks for listening and May God Rain Blessings Down on everyone.
Talk to you soon!