Contents
General Setting for the Beginning
The 1st Three Days - Narrative Description
List of Weapons Capabilities - What They Do & How They Affect Me
If you have any questions, please feel free to email me at: E-Mail
My saga began in late October, 1994. At my apartment manager's suggestion*, my husband and I had just moved from the apartment upstairs to the one directly below it. After the move, I spent a couple of days cleaning up, and unpacking, etc. On the end day, as I was cleaning, and arranging, I began to hear the voices of people whom I had recognized as friends of my husband's, over some kind of microphone devise or something, or so it sounded, at the time. Of course, I had eventually figured out, as recently confirmed by reading many stories, written by victim such as I am, that these voices were not coming through on any microphone devise which was placed within the apartment. They were echoes, or sound waves being bounced off of either walls, or large objects within my vicinity, at a volume which I was able to hear. What was being said to me was of a criticizing, belittling nature. Every move I made wasn't "good enough". "You're not a good housekeeper! In fact, you're not even his wife. You aren't married, he doesn't love you! He says you can't keep house. Look at the way you put that up - That isn't folded right! You can't do anything right. You're a looser! Yeah, you whore!" - Things like that.
After a few hours of this, I became very irate, and since I didn't have a clue as to what was going on, and why these people were saying these things to me this way, I assumed, that since they could obviously see into the apartment, that there must have been some kind of video camera type of devise(s) somewhere within the apartment. I started to leave notes in places where it seemed, based on where the sounds of their voices seemed like they were coming from, saying things like, "Look, I don't know what you're looking into my apartment for, or what you're doing, but you should have checked with me before you started whatever you're doing, since this is my apartment! I don't care whether or not you're happy with the job I'm doing unpacking, just stop looking into my apartment in the first place!!" - and things like that.
Every half hour or so, these same people would come into the apartment, as if to "check and see" how I was doing, how I was reacting to the whole project, under the pretext of just dropping by to visit with my husband. They'd allude to what they were doing, as if to hint to each other in a joking kind of way, saying things like, "Hey, how's it going? Haven't seen you in a while, huh? That new computer programming course keeping you busy?" Then sneak sheepish little glances toward me, each of them wiping their nose, or scratching the same side of their face, from time to time, whenever mentioning things that were supposed to be hints or innuendo about me and how I was "handling" this.
I should mention something significant which happened the day of the move, which I believe was a starting point, with regard to this whole project, put together by somebody having to do with my husband. I don't know exactly who, but I have my suspicions as to contacts with whomever it is that got their hands on this kind of equipment. On the day we were to move, my husband, who was gone all morning and afternoon, arrived with two male friends of his. I had already moved some small belongings of mine downstairs. He told me that he and his friends were going to do the whole move, and for me not to bother. I thought this was sort of strange, and anyway I didn't want people I barely knew to handle my belongings, even if it was only to move downstairs. I said that it was all right, I'll just move my stuff. He said no, I'd just be "in the way" and for me to just "go have a drink with a friend or something". I insisted that it was no big deal, I'll just continue to handle my belongings, and they could do the rest. He blew up, like never before, and started yelling at me, telling me to just go into the bathroom or something, but "get lost"!
At this point we had only been married about six months, although we had known each other for a few years. He is a professional musician, very well known in the hard rock scene, and I'd done some acting in "B" movies and such, but a masseuse by trade. In all this time, we had a great relationship, or so it seemed to me. Even though he's a famous rock star, I never before had reason to feel like he'd been unfaithful to me, and I was pretty devoted as a wife. We hardly argued, and he was not violent, but the way he acted at that time, something in his eyes looked different, and it scarred me. As ridiculous as it sounds, I did go into the bathroom, maybe out of being emotionally stunned, not knowing what else to do, and being completely unaccustomed to him not making sense like this. So I went in, and just turned the lights out and started to cry a little. A few moments went by, as he and the guys started packing and making trips downstairs, and then I heard another voice, a female's, laughing. "You guys are animals!", I heard her say, whispering, while the others are saying, "Shh!"
A few moments passed, and then, I heard everybody clear the room. It was quiet, no one, I assumed was in the apartment. I asked, from the bathroom, if anyone was there. There was, at least one of the guys, as he answered rudely. I wanted to be anyone but myself, at this point. Suddenly, I heard noises coming from the downstairs bedroom like somebody having sex, really loud like purposefully for me to have heard. This went on for a while, then quieted down. I went into instant denial, changed my mood (emotional shock is what I was experiencing) and sort of casually walked out of the bathroom, and into the adjoining bedroom, to finish packing my things. One of the guys in the room next to it, whom I knew a little better asked me if I was all right. That's when I knew I hadn't just lost my mind, and was imagining things. I said sure, I was fine.
Then he went down stairs, and after a couple of minutes, I could hear all of them (without the female) playing a guitar, laughing and making up a song, which was for me to hear. The lyrics were something like, "You broke her heart and now she's crying", Pretty soon she'll pack her bags, and start heading "home, going home, home", etc. I decided, upon hearing this to turn it around to my benefit, and use it as an excuse to go down and join them. "I heard him singing about coming on home, so I thought maybe it was you, trying to get me to come down here." As if to acknowledge that I knew the song was so rudely intended for me to hear, but this is our new home.
The above circumstances are described in detail, because it alludes to what later I found out, through the "handlers", to be a significant reason, or excuse for their purpose in harassing me, using the EMF / microwave gadgetry that someone managed to get their hands on, and teach many others how to use on me. The significance was, as was repeated inside my sense of hearing, and bounced off of whatever was near me, that according to them, my home was "with my parents, in Texas". "Go back to Texas, where you came from and belong!", went the countless attempted brainwashing mantras, trying to persuade me, by talking as if I was a little school-girl, or infant, really, naive and fresh from the farm in Texas. They'd even put on a Texas accent, as if this were the way in which my thoughts "sounded" to me. Actually, I'm originally from Florida, but my parents moved to Texas, and I had lived there for a few years, but couldn't wait to leave the state. Nothing against Texas or Texans, but it's definitely a state unto its own, and I never liked the sound of a Texas accent. It always grated my nerves! But it did, as I believe was planned, start life in the new apartment out with me in a confused, depressed, emotionally stunned frame of mind. Someone had convinced my husband to take part in this living hell, and whether that scene with the girl was real or staged, at the time, it sort of robbed me of my prior identity and security, which made me perfectly vulnerable prey for what my husband's cohorts had in store for me.
The first 3 days, to me, of my experience with the people doing this, are very significant. These days will always be set apart in my mind, from the rest of my life, as I lived out, and made it through a super-drama that I wasn't supposed to. In fact, I would have gone "crazy", if not for the presence and direct help from God, when, on the third day, I had finally found the tinniest speck of room in my newly mazed mind to say prayer for help. When this happens to you, you begin to realize the difference between experiencing freedom, like most everybody living in America has, and so many take for granted, and what could be the horrible alternatives. These three years have been unbelievably rough for me, a real living freak show. If anybody has a question who's reading this right now, just know that God DOES exist, as he did show his presence to me that day, when I needed help that only God would have been able to do. We are his children, and he loves us, and even though people are doing the unthinkable, like with the EMF mind invasion weapons and such, in a way, maybe if you keep trying to find the positive in all situations, you may find a sense of comfort at least in the feeling that there could be a reason for everything that happens. The reason could be "good" for you, somehow. As for myself, if it had not been for my ability to sit down and start writing, whenever my mind was so jumbled up and confused by this incredibly strange situation, and being in touch and true to my feelings, sensations and instincts with myself, as well as with human nature, I wouldn't have been able to figure out and teach myself what was happening to me. This as well, I can only that God for! I feel like there's some kind of thin line. It's extremely thin, but it is definitely there. It exists, in life. All else is just the "handlers"! Just saying, "hang in there" to all others who are victims of this, and aren't exactly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, right now. It's there.
I started to describe the incredible drama of my first 3 days of this 3 year long trauma in the previous paragraph, and if you're still with me, I know you've done a lot of reading, so far. Since I am writing a book about my experience with this torture, maybe I should start condensing, for the sake of whoever's reading this, here in Ed Light's forum. By the way, big thank you to Ed Light, for having the community spirit and allowing for other victims to post their story!! After all, it's help that I and we are desperately making a plea for, from anyone who can, and to anyone generous enough to try, your voluble time is appreciated!
I'll sum up the events leading to present, and end with a list of the actual "things" that I've been able to figure out that they do to me, and the how and for what of it all, not that there's any valid reason for their continuance. Psychological addiction to new stimulus in a desensitized world, the psychology of the crowd in general, and being able to play God, thus transferring into me what they don't like in their personalities play a big role, I believe, in these grown adults not being able to govern themselves within the normal boundaries of society any more. Plus they can get by with it indefinitely, so they believe, and it beats arguing and having problems with each other, like they used to!
Anyway, joining the story, basically, the day after the move, I kept hearing and hearing and hearing the voices of these friends of my husbands, criticizing my every move, yelling obscenities, and putting me down in general. At this point, they hadn't yet figured out how to (*) connect their electric beam device with the electricity passing through my neurological synapses, during the process of thought, yet. They were only at the bouncing sound waves off the walls inside of my apartment.
At intervals, these same people would drop by the apartment for a "visit" with my husband, and throw hints and innuendo regarding what they were doing. "How's that new computer programming job coming along? Were you able to fix that bug yet?" "No, it's taking longer than it was supposed to, I have to teach some new people about the program. They keep getting it WRONG!" , simultaneously scratching their nose on key words here and there, sneaking glances at me to give me the feeling of being ganged up on. Many hours of basically this went by, on into the night, and the next morning, as I can remember, me with my note writing, being totally confused, (I don't think I was supposed to hear them consciously, nor recognize their voices for each individual, but I did, maybe because I have a really keen sense of hearing, and I'm not as dumb as I was rumored to be!)
As this went on, the ones on the microphone were joined by people outside, walking by my window, mostly in groups, and just hanging out in the parking area, well within earshot of where I was. These people consisted of all the neighbors within the 10-12 unit building in which we lived, very often including the apartment manager and her family, who also lived on the premises. They would pretend to call their pet, and that meant one thing, I forget what. Another would yell for her pet, like 6 or 7 times a day, "Alabama!", right by my door, which in context with my microphoned voices, referred to the idea of my being a dumb Texan. Generally, they would insult me, laugh, and make up scenarios to enact, all within 10-20 feet from my windows, about my husband's cheating on me with every female we knew, using the word "he", as if just gabbing and laughing about someone they knew, but really making a loud melodrama out of it all.
Any time I would try to lie down to sleep, they would just get louder and louder. They may have been able to send me mild electric stimulation, but as all of it was new to me, I can't tell, in retrospect. All I knew is that they weren't letting me sleep, and by the third day, it was driving me crazy. A few new characters had been added to the microphone crew, and they worked in shifts. I can't describe the silly, but elaborate and annoying & to no end insulting the things they'd say about and to me. I didn't know what to do, with my frame of mind towards my husband after the move, and his nonchalant attitude to what was going on. I don't remember him being there most of the time, during these first 3 days, but on the third day, when I caught him home, I pleaded with him to just take me to the nearest cheap hotel! All I wanted was a bed in an enclosed place that was away from the zoo which had developed at the new apartment!
Since I was pretty out-of-it, I don't much remember his attitude, but for sure he wasn't acknowledging any part of it.
It wasn't too much of a hassle to convince him to drive me to a hotel, and upon his agreement, I became much relieved! It was around daybreak, early morning once we got into the car. I leaned back into the car seat, exhausted but relieved to be getting away from the terror that my neighborhood had become. At least I thought I was getting away from it all. Once we got rolling, I recognized the voice of still another shift of his friends, among them one of which was another professional musician, whom I knew owned and worked a lot in a fully equipped recording studio, built next to his house. This time, being close-up, I could tell that these voices were coming from the area around the rear view mirror and windshield. I looked closely, but couldn't see anything different. This crowd was more subdued, and not as hateful caricature or melodramatic--frantic as the previous shifts were. I believe they may have been transmitting from his studio, (Maybe before that, as well, since he doesn't live very far from the apt's.) Anyway, as I mentioned, this crowd had a relatively calmer tone. I got the feeling that they were in a room with wood paneling, and I actually started picturing, more clearly, this person that I knew, and a few others, some sitting, some standing, at a microphone, with some sort of old-fashioned brain-wave monitoring machine on a long foldout table. This machine was the sort that gave a long, thin paper read-out with waves printed on it in black ink, like a piece of a seismograph reading or something. This may have been due to
We pulled into the first hotel we came across, and I was relieved that it was pretty cheap, so my husband paid, got the key, and we went on back to check it out. The sun was up already, but it Winter mornings in Los Angeles are pretty chilly, and the gas heater in my room was out. When my husband got the guy from the front desk to send someone to fix it, something about the way he deliberately took a very long time, just to light the pilot made me fear the worst. He kept lighting a match, holding it a while, sort of close to the pilot, and letting the match go out, as if to make me uncomfortable. His moves seemed not natural to him, as if he were instructed that his very presence would make me uncomfortable, because I was supposed to be the insecure one, with a "much obliged", apologetic attitude, and not enough sleep. This just began to anger me all over again, because it took a him whole 10 minutes! (Opposite from what his lingering, occasional glances and chuckles in my direction sort attitude were "supposed" to make me feel, I really felt like snatching the damned matches from his hands and light it myself!) After getting a short "job well done" assurance acknowledgment from my husband, the guy left, and I sat on the bed, turned on the T.V. set, and waited for warmth to seep into the room. "All right", I told my husband, "This'll do. I'm just going to get some sleep, now." When he seemed sure I was going to be all right, in manner, we said our goodbyes, and he drove off.
Not 10 minutes passed, as I lay in the small room, with the parking lot just outside the front door, I heard a couple of cars pull into the front office area. One pulled closer to where I was, and the other, after a couple of minutes, pulled in to the space right next door to mine and parked. "Great!", I thought to myself. I couldn't BELIEVE it. This was a place where hardly anyone ever stayed, and that morning, it looked like there were no other rooms occupied, except mine. The ones in the first car, that parked first, were pretty loud, playing music, and acting like they were partying, having a good time, etc.(which was strange, for that time of morning, on a weekday, going to a practically abandoned, cheap hotel!) The two in the end car, which parked in the space next door to my room were older, more important-sounding men. They went back and forth, opening and slamming their door several times, and would say "official"-sounding things, like the FBI, or something, definitely loud enough for me to hear. In my limbo-state, having finally lied down with the feeling that I might possibly get some sleep in a fresh place, I small part of me subconsciously realized that these guys were putting on for me, trying, for some reason, to intimidate me. Though a thread of my mind recognized this, I was able to lie still, and not stir. My instincts realized the utmost importance of this, since stirring was all I was able to do, whenever I tried to sleep at my new apartment. I could hear them talking to each other, saying things like, "Uh-huh. It's confirmed. She checked in this morning." "What does she have on her?" "Are we ready to move in, yet?" "O.K., we got her!", in such a "Dragnet" tone of voice, as if to make me feel nervous, or guilty, cowering in awe of the respect of the ominously powerful and official authority they must have. Occasionally they would walk out to the other car, and talk with these people, I couldn't make out what they were saying, but you know it wasn't good!
There was a growing, chaotic mumbling of the small crowd, as I remember, still hanging on to the possibility of sleep being right around the corner for me. "Just keep still", I thought, "Don't move, just breathe and relax. I'm here, and I have no other choice." But I began to notice, in my disciplined stillness, that with every deep breath, with each twitch that my body made, right along with that, was a corresponding raise in the volume of their now frenzied, haphazard talking. This was a very eerie feeling. Even airplanes, or at least the sound of jet airplanes overhead got louder, as I approached a feeling of the beginnings of a stir, or if I turned over or something. I couldn't believe I was having this experience! As what felt like the beginnings of a deeper level relaxation, toward sleep started to come on, I could hear the mumbling voices begin to somehow discern themselves, and become clearer. This was most annoying, because, I began to realize that somehow they were linking up to my brain waves, as too was the nature of the subject matter of what they were talking about with me, in this weird, frenzied way, from outside around their vehicles. This, in a way, blew my mind as it was happening, but I couldn't do anything but lie there, and keep hoping to eventually reach sleep! Then, a feeling of great trepidation came on, as it seemed part of my subconscious grew to a more active, cognitive, articulate existence, like a protector or interpreter or something. This I accepted, along with all the other changes which happened in the recent days. At least it was part of myself, and not meant to hurt or insult me. As I became aware of this new mental equipment within me, coping with all the weirdness, I also knew that there were going to be misunderstandings ahead, and I lay there dreading the terrible struggles that lay ahead for me. I could tell that the people were beginning make closer and closer connections with my head, now, and as the based their actions and pitch, ebb and calming down of their frenzied talking and noise, I remembered and understood that what they were talking to me about and so closely checking and scrutinizing were my brain waves, monitoring them and talking about them, as if with magnifying glass, commenting as I went to sleep.
The problem was going to be that, whenever I was this tired, I tended to have what I at that point recognized as abnormal brain wave patterns, until reaching the point of "REM". I, of course had heard of and was mildly familiar with what "REM" was (rapid eye movement), as being the point where you were finally at deepest state of sleep, where dreams occur, the state necessary for human beings to achieve, at least once in a while, in order to survive. Under my stressful, emotionally distraught, and singled out / persecuted, all of a sudden state of what was left as my mind, I would have gone crazy and done myself in, if I were not able to get at least SOME sleep, some small escape from all this weird reality I was having to cope with. Based on how they treating me, though, I knew getting there would be a task next to impossible. Being this exhausted, I was not headed for a text-book smooth sailing, through what I knew to be the couple of other, pre-"REM" stages. I knew, and then it started to happen, the first one. My brain waves must have looked as if I were descending into the first transition - stage, when suddenly, to me - predictably, to them - not, my body went into what I used to call, "Alpha-jerks", thrashing and convulsing, knees up to my chest, just a complete spaz. If left alone, this would only happen for a few seconds, as a bridge, taking me to the next deepest level of sleep. But I was not left alone, I was having to manufacture my own sleep! And under least optimum circumstances! Ever heard of people needing quiet to sleep? Yeah, O.K., my body did its spaz, jerking me to the next level of sleep, and the people outside monitoring me must have thought I'd given up, and was going to storm outside or something completely different than what I had in mind, because with the onslaught of the spaz, everybody started yelling and changing my nervous energy or something, elevating the street noises, etc.
I still remained in bed, recovering from the first "confrontation", trying to calm my heart from wanting to beat too rapidly at the frustration of not being able to communicate for them to just settle down and let my body go through this, to get to the next level that everybody was so anxiously waiting for. It was like THEY were being let down by my stupid stubbornness, refusing to let them see the brain waves change that they were so excited to see, for the first time. I don't think anyone's ever been under such tremendous pressure to go to sleep. Everyone was counting on me, but the secret was that no one wanted me to get there more than I did.
Then I heard the faint sound of a familiar propeller airplane which I remembered hearing a few minutes before. The thought of it seemed to have a very slightly calming effect, at least I felt I could make it somehow have a calming effect if I just focused on it, mentally, and hang on to it. Sure enough, the more I focused on that sound, the more prominent it became, and for a short time, the other noise started to quiet down. My change in brain waves must have caught their attention, and since it must have been a mechanically reproduced effect, they were able to control it, along with all else I was hearing. They soon became bored, or forgot for a moment that their "job" was to disturb me, not let me settle down. At this time, my brain was able to manufacture a sort of compromise, in the form of a mental image of these people, with one of the people's voice I recognized as someone whom I knew fairly well, as the leader. I mentally pictured the group on a little wooded cartoon of a fat canoe, with the leader's face up front at the bow. I imagined these little cardboard cut-out "waves" moving to and fro, and the canoe full of people was sailing in the middle. Then I placed these waves as different paths inside my brain, from the inside of my ear toward the middle. This little canoe was going to make it's journey, the familiar voice, their captain leading the way, into my sleep! The monitor must have indicated somehow his significance, as separate from the rest, as not far into the journey, he began doing most of the talking. I was lucky that this image was not difficult to hang on to, and it worked! At least I was able to touch on some level of relaxation which I sorely needed, as the "Alpha jerks" came, slowly but very largely made their swell, I managed not to break the pattern! After 3 or 4 dramatic episodes of the little canoe coming up to and braving 20 foot swells in the water, and to the crew's surprise, keeping afloat just fine, they began to trust me, and didn't get so upset, yelling at me, every time another one came, thus bridging my state of conscious deeper and deeper.
I don't know what broke this semi-collaborative effort in getting me to sleep, but something did. I think I realized a point where it wasn't going to get any further, into actual sleep, as long as these people were around, pressuring me like this. They did, however, manage to hang on with me, to some sort of needed relaxation. It's interesting, the fact that in the mental picture, traveling toward the center of my brain (I think that because of their insistence, verbally, to "let them into my brain" is why I imagined such a scenario) brought them about 2/3 of the way there, and ever since then, they knew how to penetrate my mind with their devises. I am curious as to what exactly happened on their end, and why, up until that point they weren't able to. Then again, I'm eager just to forget this whole thing!
I must have been in the hotel room about 45 minutes or so, when I couldn't stand it anymore, and using what little re-energizing the time lying down gave me, I gave up, got out of bed, still in a delirious daze, but feeling a bit better than when I had arrived. Everybody was yelling at me, now, for waking up. I couldn't care less, of course, I just wanted some peace and quiet. Realizing that I was not going to get any, not even in a hotel room, I put on my jacket, grabbed my purse, and started walking back toward the apartment. Along the way, it was so strange - people walking, in cars, tending stores, everyone I passed had either some little something to say to me, in a familiar way, like they knew me and were filled in on what was happening thus far into the "project". Each person picked up where the other had left off. One sight I didn't appreciate in particular was a parked ambulance, along the way, with the back part open. I didn't like the appropriateness of it as I walked by, looking inside, but I shook it off and began to break a second wind, in a spaced out kind of way. These were definitely new experiences for me! As I walked, I seemed to have a little more freedom and room in my head to think than before. I started to wonder what was up with all this. Could it be that psychics really do exist, and Jimmy, my own husband was so very psychic all this time, and only now is letting me know? Why would he let me know in such a bizarre way, though? And what, is the whole WORLD psychic? Had I been dreaming, or missing something my whole life until now? Was the world always this drastically different than I thought it was? It just couldn't be! My mind wouldn't comprehend, WHAT?!?
I approached another hotel, one with a restaurant / bar, and figured there would likely be a pay phone inside, and decided to call Jimmy, and let him know I was on my way home. I found the area where the phones were, and walked up to the one not in use. As I looked for change, a woman talking in the phone next to mine was reading off a piece of paper, something directly referring to me, my state of mind, what I was thinking and various rude little comments about it. I just looked at her, with my jaw dropped. She pretended not to see me, and went on, in some kind of authoritative tone. So I made my call, feeling beside myself with all kinds of emotions, mostly angry and frustrated with what everybody, people I didn't even know had turned into overnight. I was really curious as to who could have organized so many people, and why. I left a message, and then kept walking. The new shift included some former female friends of mine and a bunch of others, barking orders inside my sense of hearing, yelling, degrading, calling me names, talking to each other, ridiculing me, etc. It never stopped.
This is when, as mentioned earlier I managed to pray, not with words, as I wasn't able, with them taking up the space in my head used for thinking in words. It was just a feeling, sent to God, pleading for help in dealing with what was going on! All at once, the chaotic loud buzz of chatter turned into a peaceful, placid and serene visual image, of a lake surrounded by the silhouette of trees and bushes, at around sunset, the lake like a plate of smooth tinted glass reflecting the evening sun and surrounding foliage. It was like a paradise, and this vision showered me with a feeling of all the little cells in my skin and body just floating easily, as I walked. It was a sharp contrast to what had just been going on, inside my poor head!
Immediately, I heard their outrage, as they questioned in protest, "What the hell did you do? What is this - What are you doing?!? You stop that - What's happening?!?" This was the first time hearing them not completely in control of what they were doing with me, so I know it was God, answering my prayer on the spot, when I needed it most. Thanks to God, even now! I managed to hand on to this picture for quite some time, as well as the good feelings it was giving me. I was so happy and overwhelmed to be witnessing a real miracle, and for God to show himself to me like that! It really felt like the world was changing that day, profoundly.
Well, that's 10 pages of how it all began for me, and I've sparred the reader many aspects just during this time period that would make the news, just as singular occurrences.
After three years of this kind of treatment, I'm probably too used to what would shock any Judge, in a law-suit, to have that sense of urgency in remembering how far from normal, how many of my rights have been violated, and in what ways. I am treated like - I can't even describe right now, but for the sake of not letting more time pass, between now and posting this, in order to get some help, I'll end the narration of my introduction to EMF and microwave victims, and attach a list I had put together a couple of years ago, describing what the weapons used are able to do, and maybe you'll get some idea of what my daily life is like. Since making the list, I've been able to figure out and discover new aspects that I hadn't at the time. Fortunately, in my life I had always been able to write, when I wasn't sure how I was feeling, or to sort out my emotions, beliefs, theories, etc. A mild interest in physics got me to write on that subject, and read a few passages in books on the subject, a few years back. This, deductive reasoning, and luck have enabled me to figure out whatever I have.
If you have any questions, please feel free to email me at: GdVbr8ion@aol.com or call my daytime work phone between 8 a.m and 10 p.m.: (818)506-5707.
*, ** - Refer to Mind Control Forum for mechanical, tech. details.
The following is a list of capabilities that the remote-control devise has, according to what I've experienced for the past couple of years: