The Life of a Demoniac

The various attempts by several humans notwithstanding, one demon is certainly "finally getting to [me]," namely, the Devil with a Blue Dress On , so dubbed for having concealed himself in my bathroom by wearing a blue towel, which he folded into a ceremonial robe of sorts—one that I assume is worn by assassins from whence he comes—so masking his approach prior to attack: The Devil with a Blue Dress On, swooping in for an attack in my bathroom at a former residence [ see   Needle-fingered demon strikes again ] Yesterday, like all the other times, including the 2012 attack pictured above, he sprang out of nowhere—right over and off to the side of my head—flying straight at me before piercing my skull with his lance: Mene, mene, tekel, parsin , my now-black-cloak-wearing friend;  mene, mene, tekel, parsin ... The result is the painful swelling of one side of my face, and a wound where he punctured the skin: Injuries like this o...

Demon-people drama: "I think I'm finally getting to him" recounts just one episode out of many, many occurrences of stalking over the years, describing how a man at the behest of demons engaged in a months-long campaign to stress me out, mostly, by following me to every group in which I posted blog-related data to my Facebook audience, harassing, criticizing and mocking me relentlessly so as to discredit me. While the post focuses primarily on the singular acts of just one stalker, it uses the evidence of those acts to bring to light a much larger agenda at work than that of most stalkers, namely, a plan to induce trauma by stress [ see   Demons announce specifics of plan to cause insanity ] using whatever means at the disposal of countless participants and their demonic counterparts, and that for as long it takes to achieve their goal [ see Demons prefer suicide to murder ]. Comments left on YouTube capped a weekend of ranting demon people, unhappy with the unwelc...

Lately, demons and their people have been threatening to throw me in prison, one of many things they state they intend to do, in addition to the around-the-clock onslaught of violence now underway. So, what a coincidence (or, not so...?) I thought it was to receive a fourth letter from Timotht Ross ( below ), Jr., who sounds awfully happy, which neither makes sense to me nor demons and their people to hear that from an inmate at Pelican Bay State Prisoner. From Timothy Ross, Jr. ( page one ) From Timothy Ross, Jr. ( page two ) From Timothy Ross, Jr. ( page three ) From Timothy Ross, Jr. ( page four ) I doubt I'll say that in response—who am I to rain on his parade and tell someone to feel bad when they say they feel good? Besides, by the time he gets another letter from my slow-ass letter-writing self, his up will have long gone down (if prison is like it's always been, and if he's anything like me or the several thousand inmates I've known). I've lear...