Friday, April 27, 2018

STUCK a glimose my Targeted Individual

I am a first generation Japanese-American "Haafu" who was raised knowing that I was to effect USA EXIM in order to have a life in USA. I was and still am very serious about my life.
Having a choice mattered. It mattered to me more than anything. After all look at the rich people who did nothing but prevent me from having security, safety, basics of living. They kept me on a 5" leash, so when I left my world fell apart. I was kept (not well) for most of my adult life in the shadow of the Clinton Boys". When I left for my Hawaiian Vacation that was to be one month in Wintery Feb 09', I became a targeted individual; some people hating me for no apparent reason & wishing & TRYING to murder me.

So, no matter what progress I attempted to make, the smallest financial gain was smudged out immediately, overnight with a larger expensive attack that I could not ignore. Damage to my vehicle

Stolen missing objects



Hacked realtors key box left in the short stairwell

I wondered if it was the counselor priest who lived in the unit below mine. If his patients saw the lock box and decided to make use of the apartment after they knew my schedule. They would see me there daily. 

Then again, my safe deposit box at the bank was broken into. That was probably the Feds with teller friends. I had tried to save a little money to get out of here. My handler. Who took me off vaxation basically spoke for me to these people who don't know me. He'd take his money I made from dancing & show up at my room or apartment each day. I didn't have much or do drugs. But every day the money would vanish into thin air. He needed to fill gas tanks on vehicles, eat, get some equipment or do favors for people. None of those people meeting or caring about my well being. I was what they called a dancer with a pimp. I was 36, and he the handler took me to a strip club where normally they only show off underagers and had gotten busted for minors dancing & prostituting on island. 

My presence there was guarded by the male owners & staff. They didn't want anyone to speak with me, in person or outside; so even my island phone was stolen several times, over a dozen. I was threatened when I called 9-11 about incidents. The other dancers hated me. I couldn't get to know anyone. If I went out with. Couple older girls, still in their late 20's from the club after hours to bar, they would be told to stay away from me.

I called the cops on my handler since I became suicidal; my real life & what I worked for slipping away far away on the East coast on what they call the mainland USA. 

I'm not them, the handler's so my work sucks to tthem. They invalidate my life at everyturn, especially in allowing me to have one crucial thing to escape them;- money. 

 It now now at 43, I'm too old, hapa haole as they say. The Hailey white side of my genetics show my age. I can't even compete with their 20yr olds. The Asian women who seem to enjoy the financial advancement of full on illegal prostitution from the buy me drinkie bars scoff at my face & pick out the features they hate;- my freckles, the tired under eye bags I can't hide anymore. 

Of course they do this to enhance their all Asian beauty in front of the men, the customers. And because I speak English well, I am frowned upon socially for treading on territory only prostitutes belong in.

No one once in 8 years ever asked me about my life. It's so superficial. Of course I'd be punished if I shared with someone who was unreceptive & told the boss or the momma San usually Chinese, Korean, or Vietnamese owners masking as Japanese in order to protect their fine culture. It's nasty nasty industry. Why do you think they use the phrase dumb haole? 

So now, what's left for me? Without the handler to secure a place e to live it's not safe for me on my own. People backed off me because of his presence, at least with direct physical attacks. Those aside from his guys were infrequent. 

The Gangstalking & jacking the hard drive to my computer & other issues of moved, missing, & lost objects or mud swathed on the floor with a mop..

That was different. Or the possible infestation of fiddle head spiders after a small one appeared to me. The idea of having an entire nest of them hatching in the room was too much for me to remain there for.

The strange burn mark on my side & the power out. Financial harm 

How about the condo building washer being infested with bed bugs? Someone said some homeless person did their laundry there. Funny thing is, bedbugs don't like UV from Sunlight. So that story is really unlikely.