Diary: Archive 10-21

These pages display a collection of diary entries from years 19-21.

21

December

4th

My new / used camera, A Sony DSLR, although over a decade old and not full frame this camera has a very low shutter count.

I purchased a 300mm lense from ebay for a mere £50. I am planning on taking pictures of wildlife and Martinist stalkers.

1st

This month has got off to a heavy start, so I am going to post some pictures I took with my new camera last month.

The mid range DSLR camera I purchased 2nd hand is over eight years old, but has only taken four thousand pictures, I gather the life span of this camera is estimated between 200,000 to 500,000 pictures, so I guess the camera was a bargin at £120 and an additional £50 for a 2nd hand 70-300mm zoom lens.

November

28th

Took some photographs today whilst riding around Boscawen Park.

Yes, I associate Truro cathedral as a ship wreck.

Talked to an isolated man, originally from Birkenhead, living in Truro working away from home in Falmouth.

23rd

The luciferic angel of the North visits Truro during Xmas..

September

19th

Check out this guy I observed performing a grinding stunt on his BMX in Truro today.

These guys were really friendly, they asked me if I wanted to grind, but I had no hub protectors on my BMX.

4th

Today I discovered Mary Phagan had the same pendant that I have been wearing for years!

She was murdered by Leo Frank, head of Atlanta’s B’nai B’rith.

1st

Check out the digital art I made of Adele.

July

26th

Today, I'm going to publish yesterday (25/7/2021) pictures of Godrevy:

The beaches were safe, white, and clean, for a moment, it felt as if we were safe.

1st

Today I return to Cornwall, I am relieved to be leaving hospital after major surgery

With NO following post-operative complications.

June

30th

English nurse from Yorkshire was very rude to me today; I'm nervous and with a sense of urgency wanting to leave the hospital, sister nurse came in and defused anxiety enough for me to relax back into my bed.

During my last days at the hospital, I made heart-warming rapport with a Chinese nurse named Claire who expressed sincerity toward me. Observing her professionalism, I could see she really enjoyed her job as a nurse.

29th

Relaxing in my hospital bed listening to audiobook: Mao's Great Famine by Frank Dikotter, narrated by David Bauckham...

History of absolute wickedness, an entire nation boiling in corruption, tyranny, terror and famine. 45 million dead in just 4 years.

28th

Next door to the hospital, overlooking my room window is a creepy cold building, bone fingered nuns haunt the premises, glaring through curtain twitched windows; I heard the Pope also stays in the ghoolish building when visiting London.

I'm sure you'd agree, very creepy.

27th

Set menu is delicious, I have eaten so much food. The two ward cooks are awesome, one is Tamil, the other is Italian, both are male and pull warming smiles.

The cook looked at me sometimes after placing the food on my bed tray, and sympathised with the feat before me… not so happy about the bruising on my left arm though…

Really becoming tired of Cannulas, today removed from my arm, I am happier. The red band is to warn nurses and doctors that I have allergies.

26th

It's a strange feeling going through such a gruelling operation knowing that nobody cares about you, that if anybody knew outside of the hospital that, I was here they would almost certainly be praying me dead.

My lungs were not reactive enough with my heart rate, I was told to take deeper breaths to expel stagnated gas from anaesthetic laying dormant deep within my lungs.

25th

I woke at 3:00am, despite phoning, my lift arrived late at 4:10am as the driver had accidentally returned to his sleep. The van broke down on the A30 near Bodmin Moor, first one of the windscreen wipers failed, then the engine refused to start for ten long minutes. The van misfired for another fifty miles, but seemed to run OK after we landed upon the A303 just after Exeter. Further along the road, I got to take a picture of Stonehenge!

I arrived on time (9:30am) at a private hospital in Wimbledon. I was directed to the side of the building, a suited masked man presented at the door, he asked some questions regarding COVID-19 before opening the door and letting me through to a seated area. I filled out a questionnaire and waited, five minutes later I was taken to the hospital ward and walked into my room. It felt similar to a room in a standard Hilton hotel, but medical.

There was some doubt over my admission, I had not received my results from the COVID-19 PCR test that I had taken three days ago. A nurse came in with a lateral flow test, swabbed my none and mouth, then I waited an hour and a half for her to return and tell me the result was negative. I then got undressed and into a gown and quietly prepared myself for surgery. I was called to the operating theatre about an hour behind schedule; I walked there carrying a pillow.

As I was quickly prepped for surgery I met my anaesthetist, he inserted a cannula into my left arm. He then attached a huge syringe full of white liquid before instructing me to count down from ten, by the number three counts I was out. The operation lasted four and a half hours, I woke without tubes but felt extremely high, I spoke plenty of gibberish before and as I was being wheeled back to the ward. I felt no pain whatsoever and drifted in and out of sleep for about two hours. I was given a morphine pump, which started bleeping weird noises.

Nurses were Italian, Spanish, Chinese, and African, they were all caring, attentive and informative. My consultant surgeon arrived and told me my operation was a success and was without any complications. After a sigh of relief, I calmly drifted back off to sleep, a long, drawn out day over.

23th

I've been thinking about a few things, firstly about a reversal of the panopticon, instead of everybody being made to feel they are being watched all the time by one person that victim is made to feel they are being watched all the time by everybody. Now I am theorising a containment, group coercion reinforcing captive mentality, simulating reoccurrences, an invisible street theatre of antics to manipulate the mind into an assertion projection to manipulate consensus. This could be surrounded by Rotundra of everybody's rotating to confuse and incapacitate definition, blurring every indifferent rationality out of focus. This could also be used to program the victim as the subconsciousness fights for recognition, fixating on segments that are performing sequences of a unified script, not dissimilar to an animation flipbook, each page/segment exploiting key aspects of the conscious mind against the subconscious mind.

As a liberated victim of this mind control I have evolved in awareness (through hyperarousal) of these manipulations happening to me in the streets, at first, I thought of these projections as games, a kind of objectification panopticon where rules are undefined to the one person but known to everybody. To make a group of people everybody contrast is turned up onto everybody through cultural enrichment, objectives are trauma anchored onto emblems to control the person liberating their focus and moving away from the containment of everybody. Obscuring defining moments, keeping the person focused on the rotating pendulum of everybody. The smaller everybody could theoretically take the place of the person and be surrounded by a more significant and larger everybody, but ultimately interchanging segments of everybody is key to manipulating the victim. To simplify, what I am explaining here is a Necronomicon, a reanimation of the walking dead who now only present to preprogrammed responses of cause and effect.

“Universalism is death, a defunct mindset objectifying demoralisations.”.

If we are going to defeat the INGSOC 1984 socialist paradigm we must listen and observe the superimposed imposition of our psyche, this form of societal conditioning relies heavily on selflessness and most likely draws from the conceptual Dharma of Buddhism. The narrative is also an important factor, threading passing responses together, a never-ending story sustaining the motion of this cause and effect continuum morphing and redefining self. We must begin to understand the workings of alienation of the dialectical Marxist lexicon; if the sense of self is lost, there will never be any self-fulfilling purpose and any sense of worth will become solely a matter of distribution of those who control the state. People will do anything to avoid being thrown into a pit of emptiness, and thus I consider this a defining factor of this everybody groups conformity when observing the processes of conditioning captivation in redefining reanimate compartmentalisation.

20th

Woken feeling unwell, but I tried not to place emphasis on the pain and let inhibition and anxiety, inflicted by micro tribulation persecutions, hinder my projection today. With a friend (Koala) and his two sons, we loaded his van with our bicycles and I travelled to Mên-an-Tol.

On arrival, there were no people at the sight, leaving us to resonate with the stones for at least ten minutes before others came. I answered “tomorrow” to their question because of a push me pull you malignment of a jilted generation, they never actually arrived; unless they came, through the raindrops, to overlook me.

I struggled through malaise during two thirds of the day, but the final third of the day I felt my body beginning to regain much required reinvigoration. We arrived at Cape Cornwall during sunset, after my friend (Karen) told me a story about the area, I truly knew the fate of my people who dared to live, their dwelling of ancestral praxis was pushed off the edge of this cliff.

19th

Today I have been very unwell, woken up this morning vomiting blood, and was taken to hospital by ambulance, I have to go back if bleeding continues, and they are going to contact me to do an Upper GI endoscopy on me to find out what is wrong. So today I am taking a much-needed rest, last night was hectic.

The hospital looked after me and was very professional with their care. I was very anxious and did not want to hang around for long, I kept asking to leave, refused to have an x-ray, and also a COVID-19 swab but despite this hospital staff was still respectful towards me. Diagnosis: Haematemesis, upper gastrointestinal haemorrhage. My ALT was high at 135.

So much blood came up from my stomach in the morning. The walk back from the hospital was pleasant but seemed drawn out, when I got back I went straight to sleep, felt as though my life had been ripped out of me. I swear I was given a dodgy drink last night in the central bar!

“I know my estranged lineage to have become so corrupted by evil that they are praying death upon me”.

They looked surprised when I stated had no next of kin, I did not tell them my story, not to save the disgrace of those who deserted me lifeless but to protect those whose hearts are innocent. So, I made an excuse that I would not want to financially burden anybody with my funeral costs.

I am beginning to think about death more often, using my 50s to live again, prepare myself to retire somewhere before my time in this world nears an ending. Settle my turbulent mind and finally seal off the dark, empty void that stirs turmoil so deeply inside of me. My estranged lineage never cared when I was being bitten by snakes and eaten alive by flesh flies.

17th

Yesterday I was out and about travelling in my friend Koala's van. We were parked up on the Malpas road when a fat man speeding a white refrigerator van hurtled by, catching the wing mirror of our van and smashing it against the window of my friend Koalas silver Mercedes van. The driver did not stop and narrowly missed another car driving in the opposite direction, the driver of this car has given me dashboard cam footage of this maniac. At the moment, all I have is a captured photo of the incident. The police are now taking action against the driver because he failed to stop, if he had stopped, the incident would have been a civil matter that could have been resolved effortlessly. The knock ripped off the side mirror from the passenger door beside where I was seated, the broken mirror framing hit the window at such ferocity I thought the projectile was going to break through the window and hit me in the face. Thirty minutes later, walking in the park, I discovered an estranged member of my betraying lineage (with an Asian man) attempting to hide herself inside a red car.

16th

So awesome to find a white and pink foxglove in my garden this morning :)

15th

This rose was remarkable so took a picture.

10th

Today I fixed my Vollaphone after days of wrangling between Ubuntu Touch and Sailfish, both mobile OS's nowhere near developed as VollaOS which I managed to reinstall after much tumbling around with UBports.

7th

If you have read Aprils blog entries, you'll know about the INGSOC 666 satanist who comes to our flat block to prey on vulnerable female resident; today, a neighbour told him what he was…

Since I posted about him, he is now using a dark blue Smart car (with same 666 registration plate of V666 TJH) to pick up and abuse vulnerable women. The car has a red and black interior with 666 stickers on the glove box door.

May

27th

Today I was given a lovely rose from a friend's garden, the smell is so perfume, but I am cautious so as not to let it near my forehead!

Followed into a shop, again by a Kalergi crank, purchasing yet another round sower dough loaf of bread. Is it not remarkable that they come to eat your body after they have taken away your soul.

19th

Went out for a ride on my bike today… Took a couple of pictures whilst riding out of Malpas, the estuary smelled awful, I have no desire or plan whatsoever to remain in Cornwall and seek accommodation elsewhere.

“The Stench of the Truro River is nauseating”.

The journey was tiring, my BMX rear wheel is broken, the rim is so badly damaged that it looses shape as the spokes become noisier when the wheel turns. I was quoted £220, to replace the wheel, which I cannot afford.

16th

Today a white camper van attempted to soil me with black smoke as it screamed up a hill heading out of Truro, the "strangers" used to do this alot to me, when "strangers" weren't throwing out bags of Mc Donalds little into my on coming path. I got drunk with a neighbour, only had two small bottles of Westons cider and got tipsy, but it was enough to give me a massive headache a short while later. My neighbour attempted to give me presents for my flat, but I don't like any things that she gave me, also it feels like an intrusion.

14th

Today I found an anxious neighbour who had not eaten any food for four days, I calmed her nerves down and asked her to come for a walk in the countryside. I explained to her the anxiety she was suffering was both suppressing her appetite and immobilising her, so a walk away from the thousands of anchors within these triggered streets would do her some good.

She calmed down after ten minutes, we walked through a copse and then up to a viewpoint where I go myself when I wish to diminish my stress. Initially, the location was quiet, we relaxed and talked until surrounded by people, as grey skies loomed overhead I walked with her back to our neighbourhood. I place humanity above faceless religion, those who cast marginalisations take advantage and exploit that.

13th

Today I learned to blow out candles on your birthday is a bad thing to do; when I was in India they did not celebrate birthdays, I am now wondering why we, as white people have always lived in a world of ritualised desecration, who has despised us all these years, is it that hard to see?

7th

Viv la France!

6th

Today I been helping my friend with his house and garden.

An angel to some, a reaper to "strangers".

April

30th

Earlier today, I took my BMX on a ride to the park and took some pictures…

When I look in the mirror at my ageing face, I ask the reflection: “who sucked the life out of you”.

27th

This is an example of the logo's cult that manifests endless exoteric tribulations, I denounce it as “culture jamming”; Comintern writer lyricist C.L.R Lewis written about this through Bob Marley in his song, "We're Jamming".

She appeared as if she was waiting for a lift, I wondered who was going to pick her up, she probably doesn't figure the apparel she is sporting, many unwitting people don't fathom it; otherwise they wouldn't be taking part in it.

Interesting, the producers and distributors of the televised programming have a red and black Martimism logo. I know now why some religious groups where standard non-descriptive clothing rather than comical designs that make fools out of us all.

28th

This is the 20th pot from the spider plant in my corridor, how fantastic is this?

Travelling on a desolate, lonely road for years on end I was never able to grow plants but now here we are, how totally awesome!

25th

Tired but not out… yet!

23rd

I ventured outside to get away from the computer for a few hours and then to walk in a copse today; visited Bosvigo Gardens for five minutes and took this picture:

Have terrible headache and eye tension, so I guess it's another stress migraine, symptomatic of having to deal with a death cult that has ruined my life none stop for an entire decade.

20th

Today my friend (Koala) drove me to Roundwood, I took this picture of a ferry named “European Seaway” that had moored there.

After I took the picture with my mobile phone, I pondered over a motion whether this ferry could take me far away from this hell.

18th

Is this not just one of the most awesome things.

I now have two pepper plants growing from seed, observed just over a fortnight for it to germinate and grow to this size, photo taken today?

15th

Today and during the last two days I've felt a lot of pain which is probably evident in my face in the photograph below; each day my heart seems to become weaker and know that I will leave this world as totally dispossessed which is destined to become a broken heart; I can literally feel myself fading away.

My friend (Koala) rang me early in the morning, asking if I would like to go out for a drive today, I accepted because I need to get out of my flat more. He talks about many things with me but refuses to talk about Martinism, but appears to know what this is and what has been going by. Being raised by Domincan sisters at a orphanage / convent in Zimbabwe must have been really tough for him; I guess we all know where his subordinated loyalities lie.

I've known my friend for almost 22 years, I first met him walking down Cowley Road, East Oxford, and I have never known him to not help people. Time has taken its tortuous toll on us both, I can see my poor mental health also in him. I was glad to get out of Truro and being in a car is different to riding a bike, I get to focus on more.

If you know your true worth you fade out of this world with yourself intact, if you sell out who you are, then you fade away before yourself, the latter is far, far worst. It's hard to figure that I had absolutely no worth in my homeland, that all my people have forsaken my life into an abyss of nothing. It's hard to imagine the Martinists driving by to mock and scorn this infliction, but they do just that.

That's it for this day's photographs, I parted company with my friend during the afternoon, shortly after he cooked me a fry up vegan breakfast. I am thinking about going out on my bike more often for longer rides, so watch this blog for more pictures. I have always known Christianity to be a slayer of ancestral spirit but 15 years ago, when the existence skinning began, I never knew anybody to be my enemy.

13th

Tonight's sunset was the lowest yet, slipping dull darkness shadowing upon the light of my rising soul.

Moments before, I was laughed at by another Martinist drive by, this time by an Asian driving a blue BMW.

12th

Today I had tea at the colour's café in Truro; very Mediterranean feel about the patio.

I was seated outside due to silly Covid-19 restrictions still being in place.

My spider plan.

10th

BMX ride about Ideless woods today.

Discovered this obsentity spray painted onto trees about where I ride my BMX.

But I enjoyed my ride through Ideless woods anyhow.

9th

Finding a link to the Blaire's through a recent DNA test and research of public records has revealed so much of my story, oppressed against calculated spite projected malice that has pre-empted my life to disturb my mind. Centuries of grudging hatred that has somehow evaded our minds, making us unaware of who, what or why such annihilating endeavours are launched against us. During the last few weeks I have been in contact with the Clan Blair Society; as with most Scottish Clans they appear to be devout Christians and so most will only talk about genealogy and not much else, viewing my opinions as blaspheme. However, I was relayed a few pages, some society's information concerning the Blairs of Balthayock connection to France.

During the last few weeks I have been in contact with the Clan Blair Society; as with most Scottish Clans they appear to be devout Christians and so most will only talk about genealogy and not much else, viewing my opinions as blaspheme. However, I was relayed a few pages, some society's information concerning the Blairs of Balthayock connection to France. Discovering my ancestors has been an omen for me in fear for my ancestral relatives, I know they are watching, waiting to intercept and body-snatch any connection I attempt to make within unto this conscious projection of mine. Whilst I adore the Scottish landscape, which truly feels like home for me, I consider myself more culturally aligned with France than I do with Scotland.

8th

Frustration.

Shards of shattered cognition.

6th

Later I learned the white male had been sold crack cocaine by a security guard who had been dealing for weeks on the caravan park. The motivation behind the madness was crack psychosis, which could have seriously injured if not killed other residents in the park. The security companies contract was withdrawn by an infuriated council, and more probably by an unconstructive response by Elite Security. Elite Security began as a splinter company from Frontline Security, who then became the successor of the contract. As far as I am aware, there were no further problems other than unruly residents, infamous for numerous accounts of shoplifting and one incident of GBH; beating up a shopkeeper after he demands stolen items were returned to his shop. Overall my own experience of this caravan park was positive, I gained a good report with services and so was rehoused adequately thereafter.

More recently, this year, just a few days ago I witnessed a new resident moving in to the housing project where I currently reside. She arrived dressed only in “red and black” coloured clothes from an old Mercedes coupe, which displayed a number plate of 666. Hands and arms loaded with presents, including a plant she passed by and made acquaintance. Two days after, she was dropped off again in tears, claiming that the man in the car had taken her to his home and requested that she masturbate herself in view of four males who were also present. The car circled and stopped outside of reception, I saw the driver and instantly recognised him from monkey tree caravan park. Through the night, she requested help with taking a razor to bits to cut herself, to dissociate from the horror she had been inflicted with that evening. Women are often groomed as merchandise, not dissimilar to the women called out as “furniture” on 1970s film Solent Green.

5th

One picture from today, the others were blurred, all of them but one!

Huge amounts of these flowers are commercially grown in Cornwall, were at this time I live.

3rd

Two portraits were drawn of me by housing support workers.

In one of them I look really old, the other malformed.

2nd

Whilst residing in Truro I've been growing lemon trees from seed, nurturing is something travelling prepetuality painfully obscured so I have embrace nurturing of nature yet again. First picture below is of my lemon tree when it first appeared to the light from darkness of a pot of organic soil, this happened about two to three weeks after sowing. The second picture is of the same tree three months later, most noticable change was the way the leaves developed and unfolded and the most prominent effect is the trees staunchness, distinguisahable from plants.

I read it takes about four years for these self-pollinating trees to bear fruit, I am eager for the process to instil a sense of patience into my unique longevity. Growing life is an awesome experience, I wholely recommend anybody interested in spirituality begin this truly awesome process of observance. Aligning our perceptions away from the Talmudic Vision and back unto nature is such an enriching experience and as an endeavour of virtuosity of the most creative artist of all, planet earth.

1st

Today I feel as though I have lived again, after years of being kicked around the UK, proving fourteen-mile long dissociated marches into nowhere, besieged by Martinism. Today was the first time in ELEVEN YEARS I had a social invitation to go to a place with a group of people who genuinely considered me to be their friend.

We met at a skate park and I rode around on my BMX for four or five minutes before requesting some pictures be taken for this month's blog. My awareness is still on high alert (hypervigilance), even after being settled in a flat for more than a year; being at or even amongst a social event can be very daunting, but I was not going to miss an opportunity to live.

February

12th

Leaflet bombed early this morning, twenty or so unwanted rainbow 'prayer' leaflets from a baptist church sprawled in a line covering the exact width of my flat and found nowhere else on the floor within the entire neighbourhood. I shall be posting the church a cease and desist notice on Monday.

Brings back disturbed memories when I was ritually abused every Sunday by bread breaking "strangers" in 2013 whilst I occupied a ground floor flat in my birth town of Loughborough, Leicestershire. Systematic abuses were so disturbing that I left the entire county to go live in Nottingham.

4th

Through victimisation arrived to learn dehumanisation as:

• Dehumanisation is casting in disfiguring disparities, to cripple people's nurtured prosperity of ancestral hereafter; a manifestation of infliction birthed not from deluded desperation but from envious, spite driven malice.
• Dehumanisation is being cast out, as a demon from your own inherent ancestral worth.
• Dehumanisation is being voided from recognition, having your worth withheld and presented, to another somewhere else.
• Dehumanisation is having your heart emptied and then filled with depraved hatred; propagating false claims of consent from incapcitated victims, who's projections have dissociated complacent.
• Dehumanisation is to be typecast as systematic human failure; misdirecting life into wagered, unknown games whose rules have never been shown, acknowledged or explained.
• Dehumanisation is claiming you don't care when you have been voided from caring until you cannot comprehend what care actually is.
• Dehumanisation is being alone, lost, confused, cold, hungry and then endlessly inflicted with false charity; slapped down by an outreaching hand until you become inconsolable.
• Dehumanisation is finding yourself buried in a dark pit of loneliness, with only post-traumatic nightmares to haunt and disturb you.
• Dehumanisation is people desecrating you by delivering associations of malice inflicted upon besieged and terrorised people.
• Dehumanisation is being estranged and defaced, obscured from the inherent love of your people, within the sanctity of your own homeland.
• Dehumanisation is claiming victory over a people, as body snatched possessions, a people that have been desecrated into self loathing for almost two thousand years.
• Dehumanisation is endlessly being obscured from god given opportunity, distracted, traumatised into invisible walls of incomprehensible generalised anxiety.
• Dehumanisation is having your cognition shattered and turned in on you, lacerating your heart with shards of smashed, broken dreams.
• Dehumanisation is being expected to follow and abide by laws in view of others who, with enactment presided by impunity, break those very laws.
• Dehumanisation is being ignored as a ghost, for years, whilst you are screaming.
• Dehumanisation is worth being buried alive as worthless, smothered in pathological lies, subverting and brainwashing others into sustaining an enduring, alienating altercation.
• Dehumanisation is famishing through devouring another life, depriving an alienated consciousness of an inherent recognisable existence.
• Dehumanisation is an undignified pursuit of merciless totalitarianism, through voiding every empathy known to the existence of humanity.
• Dehumanisation is being desecrated and hated out of existence by your own flesh and blood, being desensitised and driven away from your place of birth.
• Dehumanisation is egalitarian crazed miscreants gaining sadistic gratifications from systematically castigating you out as human waste.
• Dehumanisation is mutilating heartfelt victims into heartless perpetrators to sustain sadistic Machiavellian gratifications within a dark triad of Christian Socialism.

3rd

I often ride my BMX up to twenty miles over the rolling hills of Kernow, the exercise lifts my spirit. I often describe riding my BMX as flying, soaring through freezing rain, the cold chill of persistent Atlantic downpour uplifting towards milder days of unblemished golden sunshine reflected as night from pale moonlight.

Ideless wood were full of nurturing awe, life emanating unbound from death's floor to rise a new dawn of homogenous love once more. Creator trajectory are we who see here, our homeland; but defaced unrecognisable and debased from our nature by manipulating alienating contempt of mutilating foreign degenerate man.

Whilst in the woods I met a middle-aged woman with her daughter, she told how they had both hugged each other inside the woodland, about how afterwards her daughter proclaimed the woodland magical, indeed it is I replied.

I rode many more miles after leaving the woodland, as coldness penetrated through hunger I set the direction to turn in for the night. It took an hour to wash off all the accumulated mud from my BMX, clothes and body!