Reporter’s Note | Ramola D | July 3, 2025, 10:18 am
10:07 am: Sharp blast hit on left brain –auditory cortex region, just below left ear. I’m on the bed facing Norfolk, fan on, under Reflectix with shielding behind me. Witnessed: the older couple with the Curry Hardware T-shirt, khaki shorts, black socks and shoes and woman in striped police gear entering the Norton home which has become the false-name Mazzeo hangout for IDF & CIA both. Two SUVs facing each other in their drive–one may have left this morning, the blue one is here–and the black SUV of this couple, with the 3ACT74 license plates.
I’m sorry if the CIA believes they can go on and on and on bashing my brain to bits and AP-DEW blasting my body to bits as well. My knees are broken, my shoulders are broken, my arms are broken and they still think I should be silent.
The Auditory Cortex hit with what seems like a Laser may be an orchestrated one with the upstairs Starsiak tenants just behind me, several rooms and a street away. That black pickup is back in the drive.
I don’t see how this is not a collusion between QDC-QPD: the Black Pickup Man, the CIA, and the IDF operating out of next door and probably third-party’ing the Chens with their blue and white Israeli police colors window–and their fixation on blasting my right arm, right knee, right shoulder, right side of head. “Why can’t we hit her head?” [Of course you can, texts back the Mazzeo. Just do it.]
Doctor, Doctor, says the Reflectix to my left, 10:14 am.
Sharp hit on my ribcage at the same time, left side.
How the CIA does it. Blast you with neuroweaponry then suggest you’re a Mental case with a Mental problem while physically you’re slammed with lesions and blisters from their High Powered Microwave Weapons. 10:16 am.
Very sharp hit at my heart on shielding, 10:17 am.
Neuroweaponry is Energy Weaponry–the same thing. They hit your nerves a hundred diff ways today. Electrical pulses. Radar. Radio wave HPM. Radio Frequency MMW. Tuned up and down on the intensity/frequency spectrum. Their “voices” are Techno Acousto: projected sound, holosound, wide-beam sound, sprayed sound. They’ve become very very clever with sound and electronics. They must all be musicians. 10:22 am.
I’m still coughing, and need to take pills again. My pills are natural-herbs in a capsule. 10:22 am.
I recover a little then am blasted with heat on my spine, in my face–5g pulsed at me from the laptop and the Chen Limings, my heart and heart chakras vibrated and fibrillated with their fibrillators–one installation under the Chen LiMing deck, one in the Mazzeo shed–their cars too probably. Day after day: that’s Torture, Persecution, Torment, Murder by Sickness. And they have the gall to write people up as Mental Patients and suggest they’re “SELF-HARMING.” The sins of the CIA, of Psychology, of Psychiatry, and the Departments of Mental Health are so extreme they are going to be ripped to shreds very soon. They think they’re invincible. “Ironclad,” they say of Israel.
Please SAY the WORD “ISRAEL”. Say it a 100 times, Then you see it for what it is.
Similarly US, UNITED STATES INC. They are not the USA. They are not America. Amerika maybe, with a giant cockroach at the center. But they are not us.
A cockroach on the deck yesterday–did the Mazzeos throw it in? And sharp dead rat smell by their shed–our tiny den window there left open for the night so they could run out apparently and spray at ease. Why are they giving ME a dead-rat-smell? They’re coming up Dead-Rat all over the place–SENATE TORTURE REPORT NUMERO TWO is coming, I promise. Either that or SCUTTLE THE SENATE. 10:28 am
A plane threatening to break cloud cover and Mach 93 and rush into Pine Haven just behind Norfolk as I wrote the above…10:28 am,
Standing by the window overlooking their drive, by the backdoor, my throat is scraped with cavitation radar so I choke, upward. are they trying to send me a message? No I don’t get it. They are DISTINGUISHING themselves as Raving Cockroaches. 10:34 am.
Scrape your belly, your throat, your colon, all 90 yards of it. How intimately they acquaint themselves with your private anatomy! How insanely fixated they are on making Sound escape from your insides! Then project crappy sound over it. No, growled out a few times, each time some powerful, decisive action is taken.
“We are CIA” they must say all the time to themselves. Our Khaki says so, our black socks, and that black bumper and door on our Blue Medical Terror jalopy. What more do you need to know?
10:37 am: Strange moody drone circling in the backyard. Perhaps contemplating “Less Lethal Launchers.”
10:37 am: CIA: Another set of Letters to say, loudly and again a few times so you let them know you know exactly how craven they are. I suspect they are striving to put me off with Bad Smells and Projected Natter. Their real Nasty lies in their Refusal to Budge and Insane Access to ghastly weapons. Bulldozers, coming at you–just like they did to Rachel Corrie. Throw anything at us we keep coming. Rachel Corrie must stand for something. They can’t be the same after what they did. 10:40 am.
When I started writing here the Techno Ampo low-sound replayers from Machine Intel reading out my words on the page, still in my head, being voiced as I write–running into my “mapped” neural networks–they want to MAP TO INFINITY they imagine, sit next door and MAP ME FOREVER, whatever I do say or write–what a THRILL!–the Chens are who I speak of here, the dining-room stalkers (echoing my dining-curtain still), began to speak my words and writing–yes as a Writer I sure am enamored of this—Echo-Stalking in Broken crappy Chinese-voice (I’m perfectly aware there are tons of Chinese who can speak English perfectly well, but I speak here of the Weapon-Users, they Weaponize English to attack here, it’s Chinglish or Indlish, and they want Brain Regression, Voice and Accent Disemboweling) so my ears are assailed at the same time as my Brain is. 10:45 am.
No escape is what they want–can anyone comprehend such Evil? 10:46 am. They Practice Evil. 10:47 am.
{Loud hits on my left at shielding as I write that.] 10:47 am.
11:00 am: Let’s Ambush-blast her with sound, whispers one. Blasthit on the shield propped at an angle against my head to my left as I breathe. Was it that One Conscious Breath? RNM on my right knee, 11:01 am. They want so much to Communicate. Why don’t they start Community Theater? I’m beginning to think Quincy needs it. All that “aging population” and what are they going to do with their time? Blast up and down in their Half Pick-ups–as I saw last night? Mercury lights on, blazing, they blast down Pine (near midnight) like it’s Saigon or Pnomh Penh and we’re in 1972 not 2025. We’re “Veterans” and “Police”. Yes, We get it. You are desperate for a buck and you think blasting women to bits behind-walls and behind-chassis is the way to do it. I am going to study your Psyche. 11:03 am.
3:09 pm: A light plane climbs and seems to mooch about–maybe a drone. It’s very hot. I have the mini fan on and ice behind me. Absolute mayhem on the street. They’ve got kids screaming their kids off, of all ages. I heard the Ngoan of the moment yell loudly in return.
Blast hit on left side of my brain from ABOVE from that plane which is still here. It’s a drone apparently. Why is it touching my skull? A moment ago I was blast hit on the left side of my skull from the Mazzeo attic and shielded to cover that part of my head further. Quick, we have to find what’s on her head so we can plough in and remove her Language Skills! That’s the kind of Depraved, Perverted IDF-CIA freak we are looking at here. Sharp hits at pancreas, 3:12 pm.
A few moments ago I was being put to sleep from both temples, the bed was vibrating and voices calling my name. I went to the front and looked. Several black and grey SUVs, the Chen red minivan halfout of their driveway–and attacking–ADT can be loaded on the left side of a car and pointed upward, RF HPM for sleep frequencies ditto.
Another plane can be heard. My ears are covered, I’m not looking. nsEP on both knees especially Left one currently. “We have the cushiest job in the world, we get to eat Peanut Butter and Butterscotch Icecream, all while breaking the Journalist’s knees next door.
Earlier I was watering from the porch and the same loud noise from the Water Department, a loud buzzing sound streamed out. Add to that the streams of CIA Techno Ampo from next door, loud sounds of background sounds–
–another left head hit, 3:17 pm.
–background sounds of India and China sprayed out, and a police siren calling incessantly from Adams so I couldn’t do much, moved the hose a bit then went down to leave it by the cherry tree for a while.
Very sharp loud hit from the Chens just now on the back-folder I use–sheetmetal and Reflectix–behind me sometimes. She can’t get in. That’s excellent.
And why do I have to beg for my life from the CIA? The CIA will never let you go? How about: the CIA must know it cannot do this. I won’t be begging. I will be speaking and writing. And finding out more. 3:26 pm.
3:44 pm: Child forced to squeal at high volume. Squealing, on and on. Extreme squealing. and a flash of mercury white in the room as if a laser, in daylight, as a plane goes by. Women shouting to the kids. All child abuse, making that child scream like that.
3:48 pm: Extreme heat sent to my back–probably from that red minivan so I have opened my shielding. Still protecting my head which is what bothers them. The criminals here–CIA, CCP, IDF–sending sizzle shocks to my index finger now, and extreme screaming from those kids. This is nsEP–and I heard the Ngoan go toward her shed. So she is whacking me on one side and the Mazzeos from their rooftop nsEP on the other. CANNED HUNTERS pretending to be “Normal”. Witnessed today, a very large scruffy bearded blondish brownish haired Mazzeo, in blue shirt, clambering into large white SUV and taking off. There are dozens of them, coming in and going out, they wait till I am sitting or in the garden watering before they blast out of their houses and hit their cars. 3:53 pm.
I am working on completing the Deep Fake story–and it seems both sides are unwilling for me to write it. “Long-term” I heard a few times, a few minutes ago. They signed up for long-term projects to torture me forever? Silence of the Lambs and Ted Bundy: were they given those names, when they signed up? Charlie Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer–so many. Mind K’d to attack and destroy others. Plane again, 3:56 pm. Radar on right foot toes and blast on back-folder behind me.
4:45 pm: It’s the Ngoan Chen perched at a house further up the hill with a swimming pool, her kids and she are screaming. Aidan! Aidan! That’s her. And the new one, right here, parked with 2 other women on their deck under a blue umbrella and all the boys playing with inflatables and screaming. More in their messy backyard. 2 Parties with a bunch of little boys, 2-7. All looking like each other I suspect. As the mamas do too, and the dads. Clones from Chinese Heaven, chattily getting on with each other while the CIA keeps all the Paul clones far from each other, and the Sophies too. Some without mothers apparently, some fostered. Did they all go to school even? Some have the same names. The CIA is a vicious Satanic organization and I will expose them forever. They can’t be permitted to exist. Is it normal, to clone someone and just forget to tell them–and their families–for nearly 60 years? Wait till they’re all white-haired to reveal it? So, a lot in that DHS Emerging Technologies document that doesn’t cover it. It’s not China who cloned the first humans, it’s Boston. I do think Paul can’t have been the first one. There were surely many experiments prior. The CIA needs to publish the facts here and DISSOLVE THEIR SATANIC CENTER. It is SATANIC to run Brain experiments involving TORTURE on people, it is CRIMINAL. Ditto the cloning. I clearly need to Notice them publicly. My placenta is mine, my cord and my baby’s. Home Birth Alexandria are Criminals, and Langley and Boston CIA were both involved. Return my cells to me please, all of them. All of my placenta, all of my baby’s umbilical cord, all of the stem cells and incipient embryos. I did tell Home Birth they were forbidden from further cloning. Send me the names and numbers. Get the children together while I live. And the same for Paul’s brothers. What kind of cruelty rules in those inner SCIFs? It’s cruelty, what they’ve done is barbaric. You can’t steal someone’s womb, someone’s placenta, experiment with her cells and not tell her, not ask her permission. There was no permission. There was no consent. Those babies do NOT belong to those PWC maniacs who were here, Haldol’ing me and letting me know they had my children. Not to mention all the other things they were doing–setting up South Shore brain grabs, cutting the TV cables, bringing a 100 white bikes in, removing bikes, removing boxes, stealing my car key, arranging “Mental Incompetency” lawyer-grabs I narrowly stopped. Those children need to meet and know each other–they’re already using the same names online. Many stories here and I will have to dig through for all.
And all this while, simply ignoring my letters, my notices, and keeping on keeping on attacking me with weaponry. They’ve attacked Donna with infrared pulsed lasers to remove her memory, this brilliant pharmacist, thinker, reader, incipient writer, given her a “diagnosis” of “dementia”–60 years after stealing her placenta and cord and made clones of her eldest son. Were others in the family cloned? And in my case, attack me with weaponry ALL OVER MY BODY And seek to steal my brain, with a bunch of Israeli criminals next door–and the street crawling with Univ researchers and CIA–under very thin cover. One just drove up a few minutes ago in his blue Mercedes. With ochre yellow golf clubs or the case in that color. The same pink (I say pink because noticeably so) reddish brown bearded shorter man who has made monkeyfaces at me–or his clone-brother. 5:02 pm. All sorts of vehicles filling up and driving away as I write. I am downstairs now, for the house is boiling hot upstairs. Says 83 F but feels like a 100.
Not a Merc, a Toyota, something like this–a Toyota RAV4 Hybrid. Sudden blast hit on shielding by my head–a Neuro Strike intention? ARREST THESE CRIMINALS–from above, their attic. 5:18 pm.
Having survived–compelled to shield my Brain from Mazzeo attack, Chen attack, and everyone else:
5:30 pm: If Quincy Police had not come that day and yanked out all my fence panels on the side, protecting the 2 arborvitae, the hydrangea, and the rose and amsonia in front–and the cherry tree–that boat of a Vehicle would not have been able to come in and park and squat here, loaded with weapons as it is.
It is time to speak openly of Radio Frequency weapons, past time, and the Police cannot be permitted to pretend they don’t have any, don’t know what they are, and don’t know that multiple factions, CIA and Air Force included, are testing them on the bodies and brains of Americans. Police have Lied, played “Cover-holding”, and run fraudulent Psych-Labeling ops for their pals in the CIA, NIJ, Air Force, Navy, Marine Corps, Army. Repression ops as well. Police are culpable. Their crimes need to be named. 5:35 pm.
LRAD on back-folder shield right on top of my head. 5:40 pm. Mazzeos, from above.
Extreme heat on my face and my back–both sides–Chen and Mazzeo. Spine being vibrated. How exactly does the CIA and Israel and China think this isn’t Torture? Do they think I am “a number” for their projects? A “human subject” for their BEATING TO DEATH? This is how they’re beating people to death, inside their houses. A drone came up just now and it’s 7:11 pm. They want to “transform my energy to Negative”. They want to “make me suffer” so I can’t do anything. They want to “make me sick”. “You can’t live in the world as yourself.” Thunderclaps above and we are going to get some rain. 7:13 pm.
A few minutes ago, thoughts, just begun in my head, were extrapolated into their own creative endings by the many-Chen opsters in that house, with an inflected Thamil accent and alternatively a Chinglish one. All of them clustering together, replacing “your inner voice with ours”–“soon you won’t have one”. Only we will be there, thinking for you. You can’t think alone anymore. You can’t be a Writer. It’s all over, that’s your past. You’re disappeared online now, CIA is going to bury your name. No one will recognize you. We’re already stealing everything you say and giving it to Elizabeth Hurley and Mindy Kaling and Renee Zellweger. You can’t exist in the world. You are being beaten to death. [Radar hits on left sole, on a nerve on top. Is DARPA nervous? 7:16 pm.] We are taking your voice, your words, your accent. You can’t call it IP theft, we are calling you Delusional. Then Schizophrenic. Doctor is needed. Surgery. Operation. Hospital.
These words, floated out by the Prinksters–they float out words on Holosound and look for reaction–are intended to Terrify, it appears. And these are Neuro Psych students? These are Criminals, who have perfected the art of stealing brains and lives, an art like mixing poisons for instant death, an art therefore that is more like Mafia Education, from the Dungeons.
The children screaming and made to scream have quietened down. A few minutes ago, I saw a white SUV pause by the Chens and deposit a Chinese woman with short hair, in a coral top and black pants. Another Sadist to be trained? Yes, it’s the House of the Rising Sado Chens. A plane goes by discussing these words. 7:21 pm. Techno Acousto over engines.
7:23 pm: They don’t stop, and they expect to Reign Forever.
7:26 pm: Everyone targeted needs to write and publish a definitive statement of torture at their hands, Send it to the ODNI and Inspector-General, to the UN heads, the Special Rapporteurs, the editors of every major newspaper and radio and television station. Read it out online in a podcast. Put your name to it. Name your degrees, your education, your titles, your life that was lost. No Government can stand against all our hundreds and thousands of Statements. No one wants their radiation and acoustic weapons–and no one has a right to secretly implant and “access” others. No one has a right to take down someone else’s life nor put them in weapons-testing projects. Those who have done this will be awakened–they will be sorry. But they have to make personal reparations. They have to roll back the Crime. [They’re not going anywhere near Heaven.] 7:31 pm.
Children squealing in the roadway now and thunder still overhead. 7:33 pm.
The FBI cannot be permitted to be silent, to not publish those watchlists. They started it. 7:33 pm.
These industries which use implantables and grab people and stick them in ERs and Psych Wards and implant them–enslaving, dominating, subjugating, terrorizing–cannot be permitted to continue. They need collective stopping.
A small plane just went by and dropped a hit on the shielding over my head. Simultaneously, a hit on my brain at my left ear, at my auditory cortex. “We want to come in and keep on talking. You won’t be able to hear yourself.” The Mazzeos, working nonstop to get through the shielding and enter my skull. They are beyond Criminal–and why hasn’t this been stopped? Are the Mazzeos the New Kings?
Car door bang closeby–did Black Pickup man come and park again? I’ll check in a minute. 7:40 pm.
Bang of Mazzeo car door behind me and simultaneous blast on back of my head–a small jerkshock on head. 7:44 pm. I am shielding further.
[9:11 pm: I got up around this point because I was being too badly hit. Intense RF pulls at my right arm. I went to the front and looked. No truck in front. Blondie’s black van by their house–could have been that –or the grey shark car with its lights on at the very low end of the Murphy hill just in front of their gate. I was being accessed from there I think. Every Tom Dick and Harry in the FBI and QPD given the RFID frequencies so they can send insistent energy hits to the arms. What for? “We need to know you’re there”? And who are you? “Black Ops. Grey Warfare” and other such. Absolute strangers, incessantly touching and attacking my body. 9:14 pm]
9:03 pm: Blast of heat on my back right after a troup of Mazzeos in two cars suspectedly rolled up and parked behind my back. Quick, switch the Millimeter Wave Burn on! They did. Oonagh! shouted a woman. Luna or Oona? They interchange, often.
RFID pull on my left upper arm and heat I’m compelled to shield from. 9:04 pm.
Car door bang and a thrown LRAD onto the ceiling. I think they want me to Acknowledge them. You f*ing bastards! they want me to yell. Shut that thing off right now or I’ll blow your brains out!
Or maybe: I know what you’re doing. You’re criminals and that’s ADT and you are F*ing Israeli spies or IDF. Remove that weapon from my back this instant!
They are reading me in real time on their phones I suspect. 9:06 pm. Meanwhile, ELFs on the couch, and I’m still shielding from the vulva and bladder hits from the many women and men at the Chen Limings. “In China we have a saying,” whispers Ngoan Chen-2. “Burn the woman at the core and she will stop working.” Nice! China is so well equipped. With pithy sayings. I am afraid I did some Karma returning to them at the sink. A little bit of visualizing and a speedy return of their burning. No idea when it will begin, but soon all of them will be.
9:08 pm: I cannot breathe either. I did a spot of sweeping of all the carpets and before you know it, cutting down of the breathing with RF HPM, mainly Chens I think.
A zoomer has slammed down and parked. I hope not in front of our house. But they seem fixated sometimes. 9:09 pm.
