All right. The 7am morning beers are on! I got 1 small normal can and 3 big stronger whatever kind of drink. Should be enough to knock me out. Yeah they are still having morons hammering upstairs when they see fit, and my ‘neighbours’ have been busy fucking a lot every day around 5am. They changed it this time into the female doing crying sounds!
One truly wonders why ‘ey.
So welcome to an average day of my life. This is what you are being hired for. This supposed to be mimicking all the best the Koreans, Japanese, Freaks, Religious Fucktards, Moral Hazards, and All Other Fucktards have to offer, and boy, wasn’t it 1) superobvious and 2) hyperintelligent.
It really caught me off guard.
Ahem.
All right. Let’s head back a little, to 2023.
In April she just hang up the phone. I did not know what to think, as I had for many years. Things could easily have been resolved; but the freaks had thought up programs. It was obvious that this was not going to happen. Her voice was broken. She had no voice. She never seriously had one, but now it was completely gone. I just don’t understand. Anyway, I’m sure life is great over there, so whatever.
In June there was this fake presentation at my university about the birth rate of China and it’s consequences, something that they have been obsessing over quite a bit. I decided just to go watch it simply to see what kind of fake nonsense they’d be having this fucking time. The fact that I mentioned ‘falling birth rates’ in one of my earlier writings was supposed to show all kinds of things about me — with the only problem being that it’s just part of the main-stream Dutch high level high school curriculum (and also uni curriculum, and also main stream ‘macro-economics in the newspaper’, and also…..etc, etc, etc). But these people…
The fake presentation had the usual fake suspects. A “British girl who had been a tourguide in North Korea”, a Dutch guy who absolutely hated me for not being fuckable while beating him on the chess board, or just saying anything positive about myself who resided in Thailand (where we had gotten to know each other during two chess tournaments around 2008) where his main job was obsessing over little boys (“kleine pisventjes” to quote the man himself) — or actually teaching English at a university, sorry — and had come undercover dressed as a religious freak uttering five broken Chinese words being the Great Leader of the presentation, another DonkeyBrained professor who was overseeing this garbage, and so on.
If this already sounds unbelievable enough, read on.
Anyway, this was June, and at the time I was still trying to graduate (I had one full year left so that should have been a piece of cake), but they simply refused to give me an advisor, and without you can’t graduate. I emailed the freak professor that oversaw that dumb presentation part of the shitshow about it and had an appointment with him a bit later. They even found one with rotten teeth, as that surely is the new normal. They’re still working hard to get to that level, as that was announced to be one of their main goals, other than completely ruining my life, reprogramming my brains, taking away all money that I didn’t even have anyway, etc, etc.
Regardless, I mentioned to Professor Freak that they had put me next to a recycling center to live where they had spend a year smashing cranes on concrete so there was permanent hyperearthquake going on in the building where I lived.
His reply was simple and straightforward (many, but certainly not all, had given up on hiding all that crap. They kind of reinstated it these days, while at the same time toning it down a little bit):
Him: “You know why right?”
Me: “I do.”
Him: “Good.”
Yes I know why. I returned (2020-2021), you couldn’t refrain from continuing your madness (aka heavy psychological torture, and cockblocking everything, where they would go as far as adding weight to bicycles, the list is long) and I got fed up with it and forcefed what I knew your moral hazardous overlords would use as an excuse to conduct more planned torture. And they did. It’s the only thing they, together with their completely inferior minions, had planned. It was their goal to do this, and much more so.
These people are so ill.
Then (July 2023) I prepared my demise. So I spent a little bit on mentally preparing for suicide. I did it too half-baked though; I should have prepared it a day or two more to smoothen all dumb things out, which I didn’t. The most important thing would have been taking everything in powdered form with some warm water.
I regret my failure up to this very day, because it’s not that you morons had the slightest clue that you might be the problem, and not the solution. That’s what you get when you’re obsessed with hyperinteresting scientific programs and have already brainwashed your minions into believing and forcing that this shit has to be done anyway.
I took them, I think the 2nd of August, might the 3rd or so, but too slowly. That really was the blunder of the year. So I did sleep for 36 hours or so more or less, I can’t exactly remember, had highly spastic attacks where I wass lying on my bed and smashed my feet on the bed or the floor (nothing broke luckily, but my upper legs were hurting for a week or so as a result) and peed myself twice, both time cuz I couldn’t open the upper button of my pants in that state. Kinda sucks I guess. They’re surely going to use this for the next batch of their greatness, and I’m wondering why they haven’t yet. Probably because talking about poop (which they’re spamming me about all the time) is so much more interesting than about pee. (Or, more likely, that they don’t think I remember that at all, unlike p00p.)
I semi recovered the next two days, but the third day it got really bad. I hadn’t taken any medication for three days (the same stuff I overdosed with, but still) and they were (and are) addicted to manipulating the weather when they saw fit. Even just the fake earthquakes and fake typhoons that I mentioned before. Earthquakes are just building code stuff, and they even happen to be pretending that they’re so smart that they can really predict them in advance (they use ‘presidential alerts on your phone’ for that), which is completely bullshit of course. Fake typhoons you simply use the news for if there’s rain, but nothing else, and otherwise you have chemicals you can use. Remember how during the 2008 Beijing Olympics the marathon was being ran in fairly decent conditions? 🙂
It was a bad day, there literally was only fulltime thunder and rain. I was feeling like absolutely dying and on top of that the fake program was in full swing. I watched some pr0n to at least feel somewhat more alive. I hadn’t watched any of that for like eight years before my return to massive torture here to be honest, but that day I really watched a lot, and discovered that they had really a massive stash of pr0n just directed to me only. I wasn’t in the mood, I was really ill. I could hardly walk straight.
I decided to talk to my Dutch classmate from Leiden. She said I shouldn’t wait and call an ambulance. I wasn’t sure. And trust me, soon you will understand why I wasn’t sure. But the situation was too dire. I ended up calling that ambulance (actually she said she tried to call one from the Netherlands earlier, but for some reason that didn’t work out), and they did arrive swiftly.
Anyway, in the ambulance they took a bit of care of the ‘left-over’ scars on my left arm (which later were fucked up by means of another program of greatness, but that’s another story). I lost one of my sleeves there that I sometimes use to cover them up. You know, when going to uni or encountering minors you rather have that shit covered up I guess. That sleeve was completely stuck to my arm anyway, it must have been a few days, and you can ask your women for details on this.
NOW SAYING THIS GETS ME ANOTHER TEN YEARS OF FUCKING THERAPY DOESN’T IT?
So at the hospital they did a bit of…nothing at first. They took care of the most unimportant thing first, which was my bloody left arm. At that point they did a decent job on that. Then they told me to wait somewhere. First they appointed me a place where other people were, but that one turned out to be ‘occupied’, and then I got appointed a spot with almost no people next to me, and soon you will understand why.
And listen to this. I hadn’t eaten all day neither drank a sip and was severy lacking energy and sugar while not having taken any medication for three days. The medication itself is another story; they deliberately got me hooked on it back in NL, but we’ll get to that soon enough. It was part of the ‘post-pandemic new reality’ in an era when the pandemic hadn’t even started yet. That pandemic was such a great reason to force all kinds of new lunacy through!
But it was serious. So I was sitting there feeling worse and worse and then the Taiwanese did their job of greatness: Artificially inducing anxiety. The medication is supposed to counter it, but it actually activated it in my case. Never before I had anxiety attacks until I took the ‘anti-anxiety medication’ that you get heavily addicted to as well.
Isn’t that great.
So they had a person who was physically incapable of standing up (as in fulltime lying on the floor) some 6 meters from me and then a cop yelling at him for an hour or so that he should cooperate and stand up. No seriously, that’s what they did. The physical symptoms, other than not being able to stand up and all would rapidly become far worse. It felt like blood was rushing to my hands…which did look weird indeed. After a while I couldn’t say anything anymore and was only capable of holding my hands in fist position. I couldn’t even sit anymore.
So I kind of whispered (the loudest I could get) to some people who ‘helped’ there (not a nurse, there’s a difference between the two), if she could please help me get to the bed which was 4 meter from me or so. Now the answer (obviously) was that they couldn’t get the hospital bed closer to me, but of course they could help me ‘walk’ there.
Well I got carried there I tell you that. Walking was no option anymore. So I think they gave me some water, and at some point there had two ‘psychologists’ (younger, female, prolly students) to talk to me, while giving me 1mg of lorazepam. The good old ‘helps you sleep, ‘anti-anxiety’ (LOL), ‘helps with alcohol withdrawal symptoms’ (which is certainly true). That did help and after an hour or two of whispering that I had done really bad things in my life and whatnot the freaks left but not after having gotten permission from to to have ‘hygiene department’ of the government to contact me. No shit. Those folk did absolutely nothing other than pretending not to be shocked when they visited my place afterwards. They one time they actually visited, because they couldn’t handle it themselves, other than saying that they had seen worse of course. 🙂 (Which was almost a year later, after monthly completely nonsensical phone calls.)
So why did I allow them then to call me right. Anyway.
So as soon when I was kind of able to half-speak again, I asked the ‘helper-nurse’ to help me buy something with sugar inside, preferably coke and gave her my wallet. Heck, she had just done that right in front of me helping other people, buying whole meals and all that. What’s a can of coke, right. The reply was in true fashion:
“Haha, he just wants to drink some coke.”
And simply refused any help there. Anyway, my situation slowly improved, and they kinda forced me to go back to my room while I just wanted to sleep a few hours first, for which they had beds available everywhere. I guess that’s life, right. But at least they gave me some new medication for the foreseeable future. I didn’t have enough money with me and really couldn’t pay, so they let that one open. Needless to say that a year later some other freak would be obsessed with blaming me for not paying them (the truth being I always just get handed enough to not die from so the freaks can hide their agony, while continuing their important job of financially ruining me), and saying I was fooling them.
Of course I was fooling them. Now go see a therapist. Or just pray more. Whatever you prefer.
Anyway, I got back home, was actually completely clean for four days, and then they continued their metal on metal slamming program done by a bunch of freakishly retarted old farts, because that’s what the Great Program Prescribes. One is simply not allowed to function properly, end of story.
The Dutch also had to chip in their feeble eurocents; My own classmate I mentioned before showed me a website that was apparently supposed to be for suicide prevention. One of them articles clearly was:
“Now what actually is this suicide powder everyone is talking about.”
And then you know, right. Another fake program ‘specifically catered towards me’.
Then I had to return to the psychiatrists at the hospital and they prescribed some really heavy shit. Apparently it’s supposed to be lithium-like and be making you sleep (and boy does it make you sleep) but it was way too much at the very wrong time.
They tried to turn this into an rpg and partially is still ongoing, with counselors at that uni saying that some time should be spent on the right dosage, and the psychiatrists refusing to contact her while specifically asked to do so, etc, etc, etc. You know the level of your rpgs, right, so there’s not much more than that.
Then I was essentially incapable of doing anything for a few months because of the insane dosage they gave me, other than lying in bed and then without doing anything else just getting some drinks and sleep again. I finally got an advisor lol, but they knew I would not be capable of doing anything. So then it’s safe, right? Imagine the agony if I had just went through everything solidly, dude the overlords, freaks, kindergarten kids and whatever the fucks would have died. And didn’t this program make the world a safer place to begin with! And all these programs and paychecks that all have been issued, you can’t just cancel that, right?
I was just watching like hours of pr0n while being drugged up and really figured out the depth of the nonsense fake shit they had been producing to get their own dicks up while watching me die. And of course they built up on this ‘insane discovery of even more pr0n watching’, and invented a fake case of Dengue Fever, which had me to cover my tv and monitor because they would come inside and disinfect everything, which led to my monitor dropping on my microphone (blankets turn out to be heavy) and by now only having one of them alive.
And now go back to the first ‘On Life’ post and read.
(If you don’t believe this, you can ask for the records. They have them. You have my permission to watch them, but not to use them for anything else. Enjoy.)
