Targeted by CIA and MI6. Meet my MI6 'pals' Adrian Terris and Stiiv Knowers
Meet the 15600 hz tone I get to hear 24/7 since January 24, 2017 when I spent a night in a Russian hospital knocked out having had an operation to reconnect a severed artery in my left arm.
The tone is slightly louder in my left ear than in my right.
And my tablet 'sees' it.
If my sense of this is correct, the reason I was implanted with such a noisemaking chip is to punish me for figuring out that I was being manipulated into being a US presidential assassination attempt patsy. The noise' purpose is to irritate, annoy, distract. I choose to see it a bit differently. More like a badge of a sort of honor for having survived and having figured out more or less what happened.
Adrian Terris who I believe to be a horribly twisted person and working in Russia on behalf of MI6 let me know in gentle conversation with more than a small amount of pride how those working in intelligence/security might work decades even generations to achieve a goal.
Adrian then introduced me to retired Anglican priest residing in Tallinn, Stiiv Knowers, who, like Adrian, I believe to be a very sick man and in similar employ as Adrian. Stiiv and I met for a beer here in Saint Petersburg. Adrian was just leaving. It was so clear to see that they had been 'thick as thieves' discussing me and their tasks to work psy ops magic, NLP, suggestive stuff to drive me to suicide. They didn't seem happy about it, there was more of a vibe of deception and dishonesty. It was hard for them to behave without giving off 'tells'.
Stiiv then in a round about way made a comment about the Lord loving most of all that which he creates. This he meant as a sort of odd or perhaps even back handed compliment to me. His point was that much like a piece of art I had been painted in manner intentional throughout my life. Things I had thought random and disconnected weren't. I had been crafted so as to mindfuck the population as a disturbed lone gunman sort of nutter.
Think about that.
I did. Blew my mind for a while until it didn't.
These clues from Adrian, from Stiiv and others pushed me in a direction I had already been in especially since my arrest in Victor, NY in September 2015 (the charge of child endangerment has was discharged in December 2016) back to memories of early adulthood, of childhood and helped confirm what I suspected I would discover returning to Russia. Adrian had always seemed a bit whacky when I knew him from 1998 to 2003. I learned this was just an act meant to deflect suspicion from what he was up to and why he was in my life such as it was.
Adrian and Stiiv are what the literature terms 'gangstalkers'. I am what is called a 'targeted individual'. Took some getting used to I can say. And while this status is anything but glamorous, it is so much better than when my world went upside down, when I realized why so many 'friends' like James Beatty, August Meyer, Adam Stanhope, Stephen Gardner, Jeff Jung, Jon Pouliot, Jr., Albina Taptiga, Svetlana Macy brought narcotics into my life in order to upend my wagon, and those folk aforementiined attempted to manipulate my perception of reality with so much 'gas lighting'.
It was frightening.
Absolutely.
Now the fear is gone and a subtle distaste remains, echos of those days from 2011 to 2016 or so.
It's funny. I was sure I really liked people and could always find something in common with whomever I met. I saw it as a strength. Now knowing I was and remain under surveillance 24/7, that I was gangstalked by so many, I can't say now that I 'like' people. I think it more accurate to say now that I am fascinated by people. They amaze with their ability to deceive, to connive, to betray. Adrian and Stiiv are excellent examples.
What also amazes is that I too am a person and am capable of much. I recall earlier cheating on Svetlana and wasn't that a thrill. I recall when I knew she knew and had known, such a glow in her eyes.
Svetlana had been trained to deceive the world. Had the presidential assassination been successful and me a dead patsy, Svetlana would have been put on stage in front of the world. And she would have lied and been very, very good at it.
I wonder sometimes how she really feels about me, about our relationship and history. She lies to me daily. I chose and choose to love her which makes some things awkward. I choose to stand my ground and see what happens next.
I have been made a millionaire.
I have been poisoned.
I have been 'chipped'.
I have had the adventure of a lifetime.
Sometimes I am even grateful to have been so lucky to have experienced all that I have to date.
I recall the prostitute Genya Kosheleva telling me something one night in the small studio apartment I rented from German thug David Meerkatz in the fall of 2013. We had just watched a horror movie on my laptop, sharing headphones. I enjoyed the intimacy such evenings offered no matter how false in retrospect. Genya told me that my life, my whole life was a nightmare.
A few days later Genya and exwife Svetlana told me that Alexander Tregubov and his pal Egish Kharchatrian intended to kill me for getting Genya out of the bordello. I believed them. I ran.
In some months I learned I had been conned, scammed. In more months I learned why. My God I learned.
The tone is slightly louder in my left ear than in my right.
And my tablet 'sees' it.
If my sense of this is correct, the reason I was implanted with such a noisemaking chip is to punish me for figuring out that I was being manipulated into being a US presidential assassination attempt patsy. The noise' purpose is to irritate, annoy, distract. I choose to see it a bit differently. More like a badge of a sort of honor for having survived and having figured out more or less what happened.
Adrian Terris who I believe to be a horribly twisted person and working in Russia on behalf of MI6 let me know in gentle conversation with more than a small amount of pride how those working in intelligence/security might work decades even generations to achieve a goal.
Adrian then introduced me to retired Anglican priest residing in Tallinn, Stiiv Knowers, who, like Adrian, I believe to be a very sick man and in similar employ as Adrian. Stiiv and I met for a beer here in Saint Petersburg. Adrian was just leaving. It was so clear to see that they had been 'thick as thieves' discussing me and their tasks to work psy ops magic, NLP, suggestive stuff to drive me to suicide. They didn't seem happy about it, there was more of a vibe of deception and dishonesty. It was hard for them to behave without giving off 'tells'.
Stiiv then in a round about way made a comment about the Lord loving most of all that which he creates. This he meant as a sort of odd or perhaps even back handed compliment to me. His point was that much like a piece of art I had been painted in manner intentional throughout my life. Things I had thought random and disconnected weren't. I had been crafted so as to mindfuck the population as a disturbed lone gunman sort of nutter.
Think about that.
I did. Blew my mind for a while until it didn't.
These clues from Adrian, from Stiiv and others pushed me in a direction I had already been in especially since my arrest in Victor, NY in September 2015 (the charge of child endangerment has was discharged in December 2016) back to memories of early adulthood, of childhood and helped confirm what I suspected I would discover returning to Russia. Adrian had always seemed a bit whacky when I knew him from 1998 to 2003. I learned this was just an act meant to deflect suspicion from what he was up to and why he was in my life such as it was.
Adrian and Stiiv are what the literature terms 'gangstalkers'. I am what is called a 'targeted individual'. Took some getting used to I can say. And while this status is anything but glamorous, it is so much better than when my world went upside down, when I realized why so many 'friends' like James Beatty, August Meyer, Adam Stanhope, Stephen Gardner, Jeff Jung, Jon Pouliot, Jr., Albina Taptiga, Svetlana Macy brought narcotics into my life in order to upend my wagon, and those folk aforementiined attempted to manipulate my perception of reality with so much 'gas lighting'.
It was frightening.
Absolutely.
Now the fear is gone and a subtle distaste remains, echos of those days from 2011 to 2016 or so.
It's funny. I was sure I really liked people and could always find something in common with whomever I met. I saw it as a strength. Now knowing I was and remain under surveillance 24/7, that I was gangstalked by so many, I can't say now that I 'like' people. I think it more accurate to say now that I am fascinated by people. They amaze with their ability to deceive, to connive, to betray. Adrian and Stiiv are excellent examples.
What also amazes is that I too am a person and am capable of much. I recall earlier cheating on Svetlana and wasn't that a thrill. I recall when I knew she knew and had known, such a glow in her eyes.
Svetlana had been trained to deceive the world. Had the presidential assassination been successful and me a dead patsy, Svetlana would have been put on stage in front of the world. And she would have lied and been very, very good at it.
I wonder sometimes how she really feels about me, about our relationship and history. She lies to me daily. I chose and choose to love her which makes some things awkward. I choose to stand my ground and see what happens next.
I have been made a millionaire.
I have been poisoned.
I have been 'chipped'.
I have had the adventure of a lifetime.
Sometimes I am even grateful to have been so lucky to have experienced all that I have to date.
I recall the prostitute Genya Kosheleva telling me something one night in the small studio apartment I rented from German thug David Meerkatz in the fall of 2013. We had just watched a horror movie on my laptop, sharing headphones. I enjoyed the intimacy such evenings offered no matter how false in retrospect. Genya told me that my life, my whole life was a nightmare.
A few days later Genya and exwife Svetlana told me that Alexander Tregubov and his pal Egish Kharchatrian intended to kill me for getting Genya out of the bordello. I believed them. I ran.
In some months I learned I had been conned, scammed. In more months I learned why. My God I learned.
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