De nerostitul , rog tacere!
This chapters of this site is very special even if it is the worst written part of this site ( :) ). It contains information and data about my pursuance and persecution by the Romanian (and any other cooperative service or institution) services of intelligence. Even if these persecutions are digging deep into my genealogical table (starting probably with my grandfather) the actual story will start only in 2007 and it will come slowly towards our times. Even it seems already written, at this moment I take into consideration a complete remake and another face for the entire amount of events...
De scris practic tot, din nou, de adaugat, etc
Motto: “ death solves all problems” Joseph Stalin
Fundamental doar o nota pe care nu o mai traduc acum - cred ca de fapt voi face invers - voi scrie in romaneste pentru ca aici sunt multe de scris . Stalin era acela care isi dorea ca in fiecare familie din Rusia sa existe MINIM un delator, un turnator cineva care isi trimite mama in GULAG de dragul comunismului si nu stiu caror alte valori nebunesti si abstracte. Cam unul la 4-5 oameni trebuie sa fie cu ei - asta era dezideratul lui Stalin. In timpurile noastre cred ca Stalin a fost depasit : am intalnit intregi orase, intregi comunitati, bucati intregi de tara care sunt deja acolo in acea fotografie nefericita care sta ca avatar pentru acest site.
O alta nota cu rol de clarificare conceptuala : ieri am aflat ca in anii 70-80 a existat o organizatie constituita din fosti plasatori de bombe, teroristi aflati in inchisoare de tipul lui Carlos Sacalul care se numeau ceva de tipul: organizatia pentru eliberarea detinutilor politici aflati in inchisori. Sigur eu nu sunt detinut, sunt inconjurat etc. Notatia pe care vreau sa o pastrez acum aici este cea de : prizonier, epurat, torturat sau martir de CONSTIINTA. Asa se numesc oamenii care sufera pentru convingeri si idei.
Ma rog situatia e in realitate mult mai complicata.
Chapters:
1. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest: mental institutions and levels of security.
2. Back home or " changing realities". Is there anything reliable any more?
3. A home for a while, day sleeping and then bad decisions.
4. Wild wild west or going back into Canada. How to start a new life having only 7 bucks.
5. Smoke good tabacco or being driven...
6. Back to europe. The unknown face of the old civilization.
7. Visiting , seing , swallowing.
8. Solaris or how is to be kidnapped by " aliens".
9. Today ...
30 nov
Fara multe introduceri astazi. Oricum inca nu ma simt in stare sa scriu la un potential macar apropiat de ceea ce faceam acum cativa ani cand scriam poezele, literatura si alte lucruri de genul asta. Ieri am facut toata isteria aceea pentru ca practic sunt intr-o stare asemanatoare unei BETII. Mai e omul si beat, are sa spuna lumea. De acord dar vreau sa te intreb daca ai fost vreodata beat timp de o luna si jumatate. Practic cam atat a trecut de cand imi amintesc sa fii avut ultima data mintea limpede. Si totusi uite ca nu am devenit inca CRIMINALLY INSANE, nu am ucis pe nimeni cu toporul, nu droghez pe nimeni sistematic, nu sunt terorist, nu am aruncat nimic in aer si sunt inca in linii mari inofensiv. Cu toate acestea am inceput sa-mi fac griji pentru integritatea mea mentala pentru ca am inceput sa uit nume, sa pierd informatii din memorie, sa nu gasesc lucruri banale prin bazele de date astfel incat imi fac asa cum spuneam reale griji cu privire la posibile daune ireparabile pe care le poate suferi mintea mea de pe urma expunerii extrem de prelungite la medicatii psihotrope si droguri aflate sub controlul unor paria foarte probabil extrem de nepriceputi in asa ceva sau poate sunt priceputi - oricum scopul lor fundamental e de a distruge.
Daca tot vorbeam despre daune ireparabile, mai am si acum ceva cicatrici datorate intalnirii cu minunata femeie (si agent de informatii sau asasin ) care avea sa-mi fie sotie, Adriana Barceanu, practic si acum am in buzunar un spray Ventolin pentru ca oricand exista posibilitatea de a ma trezi noaptea apneic si sub-ventilat. Oricum nu am mai avut nici o criza in ultima luna sa spunem, dar reapar periodic si nu trec pana nu fac cateva nopti tratament cu Ventolin. Femeia am gasit-o la un concert Cargo- nu stiu daca are ceva de a face cu rotiile si masinariile dar nu mai conteaza acum. Eu am crezut intotdeauna ca asa ceva se intampla mai des in filme si in realitate mult mai rar si doar in cazuri implicand spioni, inalti reprezentanti, inalti demnitari si mai ales credeam ca se intampla in tari rosii si exotice. Se intampla in casa mea...
Lasam asta acum ca nu mai foloseste la nimic - nu am avut agenti de contrainformatii in familie si trecem la :
(arte)
…first of all I have to apologize for the quality of my written English. Despite all the mistakes, I hope the text remains readable. I have to apologize as well for the length of this message. I had to do my best in conciliating the two fundamental purposes of this text: to remain focused on the facts and to make the things easy to understand. The content bellow is mainly a historical account of a case involving critical violations of the human rights as well as countless national and international laws and conventions.
These events are still in development at the time I am writing this message. At this time I consider I can not survive for long in this circumstances and this is the right time to look for help.
Coming back to the composition of this text, I also did my best in laying aside anything could be considered as speculative, interpretative or not factual.
Although the body of the text looks like a regular essay, containing an introduction, chapters and something like a conclusion it isn’t at all an essay or any kind of literature, as well is not a joke, invention or some needing attention syndrome effect. All the statements here are covering from my point of view real facts and events and could be wrong or false only casual, because of my ignorance, not knowing various facts or being misinformed or not completely informed .
a) Some curriculum.
My name is Craciun Cosmin Ioan.
I was born in Romania in 26 March 1978. I graduated the moral - politics section in the Faculty of Philosophy in Bucharest, University of Bucharest in 2002, as well as the Master Degree in theoretical philosophy at the same institution. In the summer of 2005 (after passing the final interview), me and my wife Barceanu Carmen legally emigrated in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. We are still married but in divorce.
Chapter 2 The platonic cave
a) The beginning of 2007.
This is the start of a period when I encounter a succession of accidents and this is the time I don’t understand the events I have to deal with. As you will see none of these accidents is a tragedy by itself. It looks like bad luck. A huge amount of bad luck coming like the Chinese drop . Successively I lost my job, my rent, my money, my freedom... Not my minds…that’s my success! Here it is a short, telegraphic account of the first part of these events:
I reside in a small apartment, on Goyer street, Cote de Neiges quarter (a small Romanian community is inhabiting in the area), Montreal.
Repeatedly somebody breaks in my apartment . Nothing is ever missing, but by “accident” my computer breaks down after I was being threaten on the forum. On that time I was working as a security guard for a company named IGS . At some routine control my supervisor is fabricating a story and is reporting me. I realize I am not wanted in there and I choose to resign . In my last day I have to leave before the scheduled time because of the fast deterioration of my health state.
This side of the things was just at the beginning- I am asking help from the St. Marie hospital from Montreal – hostile treatment from the medical stuff.
- Sleep apnea crises during the night time - possibly connected with the break of my apartment.
- I am closely tracked. I have visual contact with the surveillance team around UQAM, the central metro station from Montreal, they are bluntly exposed. The intimidation becomes sheer. They are around me in the bus, they are around my location.
- Mocking phone calls.
- I am visited by the Canadian police twice in the same evening with childish justifications like making noise in the building while I am listening music at my earphones –I understand they are trying to intimidate me.
- My mail post is virtually filled with stuff like bills with 666 and I notice few hundred dollars missing from my credit card.
-Various drugs content in my cigarettes.
- I am being noticed that I have to leave my apartment because of one month of delay in paying my rent.
- I make a desperate attempt to solve the situation (at this time I was still convinced everything is a joke)– I am asking the help of the Canadian police (the only point which is in my favor, which is provable is the breaking of my home)- my case is taken into consideration with high superiority and condescendence – they elude to listen my arguments or at least to enroll my complains. The cops are suggesting I should ask for medical treatment. I exhaust all the reasonable ways - to convince them to give me a chance, to take into consideration that no case is solved from the very beginning, that there is a small chance what I say can be true. They are refusing to listen. In all this time the team of followers is enjoying the full support and cooperation of Canadian authorities.
b) In hospital. “Being schizophrenic”…
Before the start of this sub-chapter i have to state i was never under suspicion of having or developing any serious mental disease like schizophrenia or any other psychoses. I suffered no brain or spinal cord damage and I’m not affected by any degenerative nervous disorder.
I am interned to St. Mary’s hospital because of my health problems. I am asked to be interned to the psychiatry section because of the lack of any immediate, obvious physical sickness. I accept for security reasons, while I take the decision to leave as soon as possible Canada. Unfortunately, I don’t have the full amount of money for the plane. It is surprising that my friends cannot help me and their attitude seem distant and strange.
- blood in my stool - samples of blood, urine and stool for the laboratory. Is just the beginning of being sick without being actually sick. I am a healthy man witch just fills awful.
- I come to conclusion that even if my physical safety seems assured by the massive presence of the medical stuff, the place where I am is highly detrimental for my mental stability. Simply, this is the logical opposite of a normal psychiatry section - they actually are trying to induce me psychotic states.
The medical stuff is acting duplicitary, while the majority of the fellows are playing theater. Just an example: I found between the patients there a girl with Romanian origins, presumed having the same name with a faculty classmate of mine. Well that’s not a very common name in Romania so as the probability of that being true tends to 0. And still it may happen. But the reality was that each one of them was revealing one or more connections with my past or private informations of mine so as I had to conclude somebody is playing there a game...
Conclusion of Chapter 2 It is obvious who was responsible back then for all these events. The forumists, once insulted by my texts choosed an unthinkable course of actions. First of all they did a small substitution, a small logical sophism and institutional lie: they substituted the Romanian community living in Canada with themselves. I don't believe there were more than 200 users in that point of the forum. The Romanian community living in Canada counts more than 150 000 people. The second step of this unspeakable behavior was to ask help (!) from the Canadian authorities against the unusual writer, in the name of the Romanian community as a hole, in the name of the people, in the name of the many. It's useless to add from that point they had free hand against me. This is the only case i know when a STATE withdraws its authority, its protection of one person and leaves this person exposed in front of a group of malefactors. Even more absurd, the Canadian State as well as later the Romanian State (in some occasions other European states)offered this group their full technical, institutional and logistical cooperation .
Chapter 3. How is to be buried alive while you’re having fun
a) The Big Brother and the camera.
At 26 of may 2007 I come back in Romania and I move in my own apartment in the center of the small city of Deva, Hunedoara county.
I intend to leave there a time while I can realize better what happens with me, around me. In short time the disease is back. I spend weeks in medical care and I spend a lot of money on medical tests . The local physicians have no answers for me. So something mysterious was happening with my health which strangely coincide with the other domains of my life. My health was never wick. I suspect poisoning, sedatives, different drugs because the main symptom is a weird dizziness which impedes me to stand or to walk. Important to emphasize that all the food or the water is buyed from supermarkets like Carrefour, Billa. My sickness was there for 3 months. Then, it just disappeared and I forget about it.
Around I am being threaten with various shady people.
Vital is that the camera recording me is still there. I will dedicate some special attention to this fact: I know I’m seen with a camera. I do not remember signing for any kind of show like the one mentioned above. Well, I am not in that show. What happens to me is much more serious than that: the camera is penetrating as well through the walls, or can see me while I’m in the dark. Making experiments I realize they can read on my lips. They can read on my lips during the night, with no lights turned on while I’m covered with big blankets.
I comprehend I am watched with military tools, with extremely advanced equipment. Is pointless to add that such equipment can’t be buyed from the free market.
b) How do I know? The “comedy central” division.
I know because they are around, showing me. Everywhere I move they apply inexorable, obsessional, stupid, without any reason the same law: they are picking exhaustive informations about me using the tools I mentioned above, the facts are reinterpreted in some comical code, then the neighbors or anybody else I come in contact are becoming the actors. Comedy actors. A comedy which is making me tired, annoyed and psychological consumed. A comedy wasting my time and my money. In almost all my social interactions ( in shops, in the bus, in cinema or theatre, anywhere) I “find” people with the lesson already learned, with something to say which is beyond any doubt dictated, exterior to them, which are becoming the vehicle of the ideas of the people behind the veil, which at their turn are never ceasing communicating with me. Some other times they are simple signals, gestures showing symbols. Because of them I feel weak, controlled, pushed, driven. I understand that even if I am free I am not really free. I’m terrified of their absolute power to do whatever they want, to overcome whatever they want. That there are no limits, no laws, no impossibilities. That there is no instance I can call on my side, there is no law for me, I am guilty before being judged.
They also use some of the Bucharest central newspapers or the T.V. for throwing dirt, fear and intimidation on me. Is worse than Canada so I choose to go back– having the hope this time is maybe different.
Conclusions to chapter 3. The bad thing about all this, i could say the evil face of these events is i have no escape, they are everywhere in space and time. There is no corner to hide, there is no moment in time where or when i can take a break. These people have no holidays, these people have nothing sacred.
c) Back to Canada. The west.
I decided to start my life again in Vancouver, the far west. No bright ideas in trying to save my life. I was just trying to stay away from the members of forum . I am trying more leaving places. Everywhere the game remains the same. And everywhere I am escorted. Is autumn. I choose to buy a car because I hope in very naïve, romantically way to escape. Is a Dodge grand Caravan 1998- a huge car- I hope to go across Canada and to sleep inside. To quit the omnipresent theatre. I loose about 6000 dollars just to find out that the surveillance is way above what I expected. While I am driving I am watched by an helicopter of the Canadian police, but what becomes more and more obvious, because I drive fast, during the night is I am watched from the sky. It can be a satellite...
In that period I was keep trying to come back to the normal life: even being under drugs I was going around trying to find a job, I contacted even an intermediations company. Is was too late. And impossible. I am the legal resident of Canada which has no actual rights.
d) “eat it” ! Kill yourself !
I’m finding my car (parked in front of the house I live) broken, while on one of it’s windows somebody tarnished the “smart” invitation for me to eat it. Well I didn’t do it but “instead” I never succeeded to recover it. It was lost for ever and with it the part of money I still had from selling my house from Romania.
Is the final of 2007. I start living in a social location. Again repeated breaks in. On the walls somebody is carving biblical quotes from the Apocalypse –Revelation after St. John and is drawing small symbols. I find small jewels on the walls representing butterflies and inducing the idea of flying. I reside at the seventh floor of an old building, downtown Vancouver which has a big window. Somebody is suggesting how I could find my exit, how I could finally be free…
The neighbors are usually drug dealers and drug users- usually mentally retarded people with criminal or violent antecedents, whose life and for who the life means almost nothing. I am on drugs for weeks.
I let my identity cards home and they are stolen from inside – this is the final stroke - they are trying to steal my identity, they are trying to erase, eradicate, wipe me from the society. To make me be a not registered, not belonging individual.
e) The warnings.
Every time something important happened to me I was warned in the time before the event. They are either verbal warnings when the person is telling me something usually like a story about some other people (when I have the surprise the event is occurring to me) or non-verbal when it’s a signal. Usually I understood these messages too late and only after irretrievable damages.
Conclusions to chapter 3. The bad thing about all this, i could say the evil face of these events is i have no escape, they are everywhere in space and time. There is no corner to hide, there is no moment in time where or when i can take a break. These people have no holidays, these people have nothing sacred.
Chapter 4 Leaving in the trains
26 of May 2008 –I quit Vancouver for London. I still believe in change. Soon I will be profoundly disappointed. I find out that everything is keep running on the old continent too. I am trying to obtain political asylum in Switzerland. They refuse even the request. I am Romanian and Romania is a fool European Union member. Ceausescu is dead and there is no asylum for somebody like me. The system rejects me again. There are no special conditions. They refuse to see me. They refuse to see a desperate human being which is reduced to a hunted and hungry animal. Is the same everywhere. In France I am victim of various small aggressions on the streets, and in Germany the police is ready to put me to jail for being in the train without ticket . I succeed to get out of there but not before having fool facial pictures, extended fingerprinting, and a bit (just a bit) of detention. They are trying to humiliate me, asking me to fully undress (I refuse) and to make me look like a regular offender while they play translating from Romanian, in other words they show me lively they know what is it all about.
Is the time when I live in trains. I can stop nowhere because when I stop the things usually go worse. The conclusion is the “force” I am face to face is using in twilight, some very serious accusations against me, so as they obtain full cooperation from all the states I cross or I intend to move then they use the torture, persecution, and try to annihilate me in the most barbarian way possible. I understand that in 2009 the Gestapo or the NKVD are back and fully operational. I understand that the very forces designated to defend, enforce, maintain the law are working in close cooperation with services behaving like mafia. The story is going close to our days.
I decided to try to get help because of a series of attentates to my life. They are trying to implicate me in a car accident. They tried to hit me with Turkish trucks. I don’t believe there primal intention is to kill me – there are obvious more silent, direct ways to kill somebody. What happens is they are trying to make me crazy or desperate. To kill myself or to make me be the sane patient of some lunatic asylum where they can continue and develop their degenerative work in silence. That’s the decision of my shadow conspirators. That’s the justice they want.
Instead of conclusions to chapter 4.
The power of law against the law of power.
What can be proved and what’s the purpose of all this?
Well I can prove that when everything started I had a normal life, I was leaving in an apartment in Montreal, I had enough money for myself, I had an apartment in Romania, I was just admitted at the Law school at University of Montreal, and everything else usually is including the definition of a normal life.
Well, now I am two years older, hunted, humiliated, with no possibility of self maintenance, living from the family’s help, but more not having a certain future, living without any hope. Without tomorrow. Usually that tomorrow brings gust new episodes from the thriller of my persecution.
Fundamentally I am trying to regain my freedom. Nothing else. I lost all my belongings, I lost even the pictures of my family. They were stolen. The big majority of proves disappeared once with my cameras (stolen in train), once with my papers (wallets stolen) etc. This was their favorite strategy every time I tried to store amounts of proves. They simply stole it. And that’s a part of the more general strategy: the idea is to bring you down, to reduce you, to mix you up in the lower layers of the society .
Ultimately nobody ever communicated me what are the charges leading to my surveillance with military technology, the suppression of my civil liberties, the monitorization and control over my life, and eventually if I am right and any justifications (others than various personal vendettas) are missing, I hope I will finally be out of surveillance. There is no legal penalty for witch the punishment can be introducing drugs in the food, or which demands attentates to the psychological and physical integrity of one person. There is nothing legal in what happened to me in this last years.
I am sure that nobody pays or will ever pay for the torture, intimidation, the aggressions against my belongings or more damaging against my health.
At least maybe they can be stopped. They already stole two years of my life. If the law stops in one case then it’s stops in all cases.
The end. Some explanations.
I mentioned in the introduction the events are still in development. Fundamentally this means I am under a strict surveillance even now when I’m writing this... Here it is a paradoxical state: the aggressor is reading the complains of the aggressed. And they have no shame in reacting. In showing me where what I’m writing is good and where is wrong. This goes beyond the imagination of George Orwell who invented in his 1984 the idea of absolute surveillance. It’s easy to understand i had to protect some informations, to keep quiet over some other content or to describe some things just introductory. All the rest can be provided or joined later…Beyond any doubt there is a connection between this chain of events and the political content of my writings. Just the quality of surveillance tools is enough for deducing this. If will be to isolate in here which of the fundamental human rights or constitutional rights of mine were trespassed there is about half of them (1,3,5,7, 11, 12 , 14, 18, 19). I have to deal with pretty sick and fanatical people. I didn’t write anything for months, a tried to cooperate but they never stopped in their vindictive fury. More times I was almost to die in a car accident. They weren’t very impressed. That’s their sadistic side. At this point I live on the streets waiting the end of all this…so as I have no phone number of mail post.
Whoever they might be I hope I can be helped to finally “divorce”. I don’t believe me and these people have in common more then the physical similarities…
http://www2.ohchr.org/english/bodies/chr/complaints.htm
notes:
1.Which will be very rare – the story is a first person one.
2.In 2002.
3.Taclaua means actually something like “the chat”,
4.The forum also includes specialized areas.
5.In my interpretation here is the turning point in the chain of events.
6.On that time I was applying for Faculty of Law at the University of Montreal. I was initially admitted then, in strange circumstances, I lost my place because of not paying some registration tax without being announced I have to.
7.“Chinese water torture is the popular name for a method of water torture in which water is slowly dripped onto a person's forehead, allegedly driving the victim insane” wikipedia
8.www.igssecurity.com/
9.No complains …
10.St. Mary's Hospital Center 3830 Lacombe Avenue Montreal, Quebec H3T 1M5
11.For the first time in my life. I was buying food from the corner shop…
Big Brother is a popular TV-show where a group of pre-selected people are recorded non-stop for 3 months. The public is watching them interacting choosing weekly who stays in and who is going out.
12.I take repeatedly blood, urine, stool tests, as well as specifical tests for hepatite (B or C), Aids…
13.“They”. They aren’t necessary the same ones. It’s possible to imagine a scenario with some secret service with some informations leak…taken by some other groups and so on.
14.Which I found back then to be at the origin of the incidents. In Vancouver is leaving just a small Romanian community.
15.For 2 or 3 month I was on drugs. I do not consume drugs voluntarily.
16.The German city of Kassel. The police is waiting me at the door of the train asking me if I want to go with them for a “small” investigation.
17.Nothing new…this is one of the old stories- in most cases of political persecution the subject is treated like a criminal offender.
18.Well it seems that’s the Russian way. The Romanian autorities are working cleaner (if we are making exception of the trucks)…
19.In the vicinity of the thieves, malefactors, criminals.
sau
the fourth kind- an ocean named Solaris
Solaris- oceanul extraterestru care citeste gandurile si le materializeaza dupa reguli stiute doar de el. De o parte 3 fiinte umane. Gibarian Snaut si Sartorius. Notez numele pentru ca imi plac . Au inceput sa-mi placa numele. Tarziu...Nu mai retin - ar putea fii si a 4-a.
Oamenii sunt trimisi in spatiu sa-l studieze. In realitatea lui Lem raportul se inverseaza. Oceanul pare sa citeasca cuante din memoria savantilor si asa cum spuneam sa le materializeze. Oamenii se afla la o limita. A inteligentei umane , a acceptarii, pe un prag de unde nu ai unde sa te intorci. Frizeaza nebunia.
Unul dintre ei isi primeste sotia moarta inapoi in carne si oase...
Fortele sunt disproportionate. Nu exista iesire. Oceanul e fascinant. Cam asta era la Lem.
Acum revenind la realitatea imediata situatie mea e dupa cum urmeaza:
- data de 4-5 martie innoptez la Innsbruck. Intr-una din pesterile asemanatoare cu acelea ale neanderthalienilor din X Files motion picture( vezi primele secunde ale filmului- anul 35000 ien...). Se intra si mi se subtilizeaza pasaportul.
Fara sa stiu ma imbarc in tren spre zurich.
Sunt asteptat la coborarea din tren de catre agenti imbracati in civil. Pe unul dintre cei care ma aresteaza l-am mai intalnit in timp ce avea functia de nas de tren la iesirea din Austria spre Republica Ceha. Sunt fara indoiala romani si membrii ai SRI SIE ce mormantul ma-mii lor sunt. Cameleonism specific serviciilor secrete.
aprilie 2010
Sunt acuzat de a fii patruns in Elvetia fara acte in regula si pentru posesia unui spray defensiv. Sunt tinut in arest 48 de ore desi legea elvetiana statueaza ca durata arestarii nu poate depasi 24 de ore. Conditii de detentie dure, opace (nu stiu nimic clar despre situatia mea). Sunt drogat masiv. Sunt eliberat intr-un soi de pripa fara a mi se elibera nici un document care sa dea seama unde au disparut 48 de ore din
viata mea.
Sunt pe strazi din nou si din nou in situatia initiala. Gasesc solutia unei plangeri la politie pentru pierderea pasaportului.
Multe alte detalii incluzand atentate la viata mea in orasul Berna. Sunt masiv spre inuman supravegheat de catre politia elvetiana.
Dupa 3 saptamani ma aflu la Viena si in imposibilitate de a-mi rezolva situatia cu actele. Pe scurt am nevoie de un titlu de calatorie care costa 55 de Euro pentru a ma intoarce in Romania pentru a-mi reface pasaportul. Ambasada declara ca nu are bani pentru cazuri speciale.
Pentru eventuale interceptii -pendulez pe Mariahilfer strasse.
Nu stiu exact cum se poate ajunge la mine.
Revenind la extraterestrii cameleonici relativ omniscienti, care detin un avantaj tehnologic -cognitiv- legal suficient pentru a creea iluzia de alien encounter adica detin (nu ma pot abtine ) aparatura suficienta pentru a vedea noaptea prin pereti - asta e partea comica si nu mai e demult nici o noutate , detin metode de a citi mintea umana - asta e partea pe care inca nu o inteleg si care ma sperie efectiv si detin prin dualitatea schizofrenica a sistemului mijloace de a dribla orice pachet de legi in principiu astfel incat cantitatea de putere revarsata de catre Leviatan asupra individului are proportii biblice -asta e partea care ma irita (cazurile speciale)acestia functioneaza intr-un fel de retea internationala de tip MAFIA, intr-un fel de realitate paralel conspirationala puternic conjunctiva.Stiu prea putin si ma grabesc.
SI 3
PS
da o sa las nitel fitele stilistice la o parte . Asa ca brigada de terminatori (si terminatoare !! ca tarasc dupa ei niste vivandiere - nu stiu ce scopuri au - cred ca traduc, gatesc grotesc si grohaiesc probabil si dau bine la imagine) cu sustinere internationala masiva - pentru ca nici haita occidentala de supracivilizati datatori de lectii nu e departe de fenomene de tipu asta sunt pa superfelie pa aici.
Scriu ca sa inteleaga pana si ei.
Despre Elveteinii aia am inteles ca nu le plac copiii si daca esti orientat spre viitor - esti pedofil si risti ani grei de puscarie. Am mai inteles ca politaii lor sunt caini turbati scapati de sub orice fel de control si am mai inteles ca la fiecare colt de strada geme si rage psihotic de psihiatri psihanalisti psihologi si alti mici tarani din gasca lu Elvis de la gara. Si ei au inteles ca i-as pune in piroane pe peretii blocurilor. Deocamdata cred ca sunt in superioritate si in atac - ca tot pozeaza zabalos in pacifisti si antirazboinici. Aproape ca m-au terminat pa mine.
Cat o priveste pa Vena ia sa taraste lasciv pa la picioarele zbirilor astfel ca am parte de spectacol pa cinste . Voluntari cu miile, colaboratori prosti si piticanii cate vrei. Daca mai exista oameni de bine faceti o excursie ca m-am plictisit de transpiratia asta. O am pa a mea. Da in schimb imi dau ciori. Fara gluma si fara rasism- asa le zice alora de 1 si 2 euro. Operatiunea se numeste Germany.
Pula mea imbecilitatea astora e atat de imensa incat mi-a ramas nedepistata vreo 10 ani. Daaaa intr-un tarziu am gasit semnele si indiciile care imi erau oferite de la varii colegi bla bla. Da exista drumuri atat de anormale incat mintea mea refuza total sa intre pa acolo.
Deci ma numesc Cosmin si Cos rau si Co SRI-u si Co sari tu si gatu ma-sii de comedie exista niste alge, niste muci si ceva zgarciuri care umbla dupa mine sa ma drogheze sa sar in cap. Ba era si ceva cu o nevasta de-a mea si cu unu Fbi dela, un investigator si alte tumori deastea.
Oricat de scabros as scrie sunt un fel de arhanghel fata de actiunile carpelor astea ucigase.
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sariti ! care sunteti sariti . Cateodata ma simt singur in tampenia asta da uite ca-l gasii pe Lem asta, pa lemurianu asta dastept si ma desteptai ca nu incepu lumea cu mine. A inceput cu Rusii - aia o fo primii.
atat lasa.
