Silent Suffering, Endless Chains
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'I think only of you! I speak only to you, and I act only for you!' - Perpetrator
This article is written in a dark comedy style.
It satirizes the obsessive and irrational behavior of gang-stalking perpetrators, portraying their blind devotion and absurd fixation.
The target has no interest in them whatsoever, yet they act like abandoned lovers, frantically clinging to meaningless actions.
Watch their ridiculous behavior unfold and enjoy laughing at their absurdity.
Gang stalking is not just harassment.
It may be an extreme form of manipulated madness, where perpetrators believe they are acting on their own, but in reality, they may be controlled by directed energy weapons and neuro-experiments.
Ultimately, this system serves as a tool for controlling society on a larger scale.
Now, let’s dive into this bizarre reality and ridicule it together.
Silent Suffering, Endless Chains
In the shadows, whispers creep,
Like ghostly echoes, secrets they keep.
With desperate tones, they plot and devise,
Yet the object of their obsession, utterly benign, lies.
With every murmur, a bemused delight,
They think they’re clever, huddled tight at night.
From the construction site, piercing the din,
"Hey! You’re the one we’re stalking again!"
How they cackle, and yet, how they pout,
Feigning superiority, while others laugh out loud.
From delivery bikes, they zoom and they flee,
Making comments like, “Oh look, it’s you, can’t you see?”
What pitiful clowns, in this absurd play,
Craving attention in such bizarre array.
While the victim walks by, completely aloof,
They insist, “Our bond? It’s more than just proof!”
Tool of the trade? A coward’s guise,
Shouting from windows, thinking they’re wise.
While residents listen, they twist and they sigh,
As noise mixes with whispers—oh, the great alibi!
Stripped of all shame, these puppets they dance,
With gadgets and gimmicks, they foolishly prance.
Pause for a moment, what is their bliss?
For their sad scheme could hardly be missed!
The truth is a mirror, reflecting the farce,
Obsessed with a void, what foolishness—quite the sparse!
They seek to bind, yet are hopelessly weak,
Dependent on shadows, while their futures look bleak.
Isn’t it funny? This web they have spun,
How they rely on the very ones they shun.
They think they’re the hunters, but hey, what a twist!
Without their prey’s presence, they cease to exist.
So laugh, dear reader, don't let them regress,
For their absurdity’s costume is theirs to possess.
Organized stalking—a peculiar charade,
Unraveled, we see it’s just fears masquerade.
Let’s cast light on this shameful affair,
Expose the fragile and twisted which we share.
For in their cacophony, we hear the refrain,
Our lives are our own, not fodder for their pain.
📌 Further Reading
📌 Read in Korean
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