Reporter’s Note | Ramola D | September 25, 2025, 2:13 pm, 3:36 pm, 11:47 pm
2:13 pm: I realized just a few minutes ago the Stealth ELF vibrating the cushions of the couch and travelling up my spine in a sinuous way, putting me to sleep, was from behind, the Mazzeo house and was aimed at my lower spine where no doubt some kind of Nano/Micro RFID sits. All morning, sleep hits. Temple hits with low-level RF from the Chens and Spinal hits from the Mazzeos. The Starsiak club has been running the temple hits as well I think.
These are Delta and Theta waves and your eyes close without your intending them to or knowing even what they are doing.
I’ve woken up, am consuming tea, shielded further, am back to work.
2:18 pm: When I surface outside Reflectix the Chens are able to blast 5G at my face to stop my breathing.
2:19 pm: The Mazzeos, excessively personal, sent bladder weapons in last night to attack every private part they could reach down there, for all sorts of purposes no doubt like “bringing your energy downward”. The Chens helped with clamps of my left breast which continued into today. This morning around 7 a dark-haired woman got into the white SUV parked below my window and left, after keeping the engine running for a minute. A single minute can feel like a lifetime in a narrow alley drive between two houses and they love it. The woman kept her head ducked so I could not snapshot her face. I did record briefly.
A blond stocky man with a scruffy beard was the Mazzeo of the morning then, and I wondered if it was him, waking me at 6:06 with a large loud whack on my shielding. [Sharp whack on shielding behind, 2:31 pm, as I write that–are they eager to Covert Comms again? No, I’m not their “Special Espionage Friend”.]
Yesterday there was another man here, dressed in mint or sage, also tall I think, with reddish beard and scruff. I glimpsed him messing with the trash cans, pointedly–he and his pals the Mergels seem to have arranged a Black Van rendezvous which didn’t work out, quite, since I saw some portions of this set-up–black van reversing into the Mergel drive, mint-shirt rustling about, inviting me to do the same just then. Why would I do the same? Why would I bother to be around when these Mazzeo men are trundling about, trying to look like staying at home a 100 hours a day is a perfectly normal thing to do as they run to “call Police” each time their eyes set on you? No, they can do without my presence outside when they do their Trash. I withhold my presence with intent. I withhold my speaking, my voice, my words when they’re around. For they like to call Police and lie! “Oh please sir, yessir, Water on my Brand New Flying Machine from the Sky!” And oh yes, the one who snarled at the camera just 2 days ago (I was Fully out of view, and I Did record this) and issued a few name-calling slurs did say, mysteriously, as he went in, “Get ready for a phone call! I’m calling your ….Spouse? Husband?” He must have meant the Salt and Pepper one who shows up variously in Black CIA-Police cars and Royal Blue PoliCIA cars and yells, for effect, about how I simply am refusing Christmas presents again. Yes, the Mazzeos are CIA–a kind of low-level CIA species I think, post Princeton-Harvard-Ivy Freakishness, maybe a State school in Boston?–and the best they can do is cling to Spouse-Impersonator there for their Storylines and Myths–“Yes she talks to her husband, they’re going through a Divorce (for 2 years) and…something about Radio Waves.” “Radio Waves huh?” Blond German QPD ruminates, ignoring the 5 Radio Wave Devices he’s got bristling on his Electronic Person right there. “And 2 years! She’s been watering plants for 2 years now! “”Exactly–I’m so glad you can see the problem, sir, it’s so great that you guys come out right away like that!” “I feel so much better with You Guys here!” [That’s actual blather from the Russian-looking redbeard of last Wednesday, who ran out with his little curlyhaired puppydog after his Big Brother inside the house with identical clothes made the Phone Call to QPD: Please, POlice, come quick! We saw the Female again, she’s aiming at our hubcaps now, saying Hydrangea!” He meant with WATER, watering hose–and surely he was embellishing, because there IS a hydrangea there, and one waters hydrangeas, not cars, but QPD will come out for them for anything. “You saw her looking at you you say?”** And why would I go out of my way to be outside again at the same time as these freaks after that?
**It’s actual Grace in the Attic they’re making up here, it’s that Deranged. Both the Police and these Paid Mercenaries fail to hear themselves. It’s the age-old myth of the “Hysterical Woman” or “Deranged Woman” “living alone by herself, being deranged”–and this is Massachusetts! Of the Scarlet Letter and witches burnt at the stake…and Abolition and Women Suffragettes and Abigail Adams. How are they actually viewing themselves in the Mirror each morning? It’s 2025, and how are they all suppressing the Fact that I’m a writer and journalist?
[Lots of blasthits on my shielding here as I wrote that. Imagine, the Freaks are reading me in real-time, and watching Neural Network “Brain-Decoders” as well–while also making up the NN moves into syntax. That’s the spot at which they flubbed up–for they’re into framing–and thought they could use this Brill Neural Network Mapping Source and Method they have now–with BCI Tech (another zoomer, another hit on shielding over my head, 2:55 pm] to simply extrapolate into syntax themselves, thereby Stopping, they imagined, the “Subject’s” thinking herself, but what they’ve really done is create a Neural Network Generator with limited utility. “We’re not looking for your input. We have mysterious plans for the future and we sure as heck can take your Head that way.” Yes, that’s the problem. They’ve created Means for themselves to keep on and keep on attacking Brains and Thinking Processes and Composing Processes inventively, one step after another. With BCI-Tech they can do anything. It’s getting that tech into Brains that’s the problem. You have to grab people, capture them. Knock them out, strap them down, lie about them being suicidal, anything. Double-blast on my shield. “You have us perfectly now, we have no boundaries.’ That’s the Mazzeo-CIA clan, it’s 3 pm, that’s EVIDENCE: Arrest them.
That’s MKULTRA, no ethics, no conscience, and they ALL need stopping. 3:00 pm.
There is no consent–and there’s plenty of Resistance. No one in the wide world is volunteering their Brains for savaging like this. Hits again on the shielding, they agree. 3:02 pm. Well, why engage in Crime then? They’re all going to be INCINERATED soon enough. Hell is real, believe me. And there are no PINK satin cushions Satan will be pulling out for you to sit on. No. Satan is a CRIMINAL. He’s in forever HIDING. When you show up, he’ll have his usual Hellfire and Sulphur reception for you. It makes me smile, those acres of burning desert and fire. All their toes in it, and heavens, the screaming. They never stop, in Hell. Nonstop screaming and burning and dying–it’s Eternal.
Lovely thoughts. 3:05 pm.
Whack whacks on the shingles outside. Maybe their drones, involuntary cracks. 3:06 pm. Zoomers.
Well I’m awake now and must return–but the rest of that headline points to what all 3 sides did last night and early this morning. No they haven’t stopped the nsEP but for some time last night I was able to shield with the garden rubber and foam pads, my knee was bruised and contused then, I managed to use some balm and get some healing; then this morning again I was blasthit on both knees while still in bed. Thinking about it, I realize the hits must have come from 2 directions–the Chen Limings’ house which is bristling with electrical wires and possible nsEP installations in front, and the back of the Chevy Traverse which came late last night and parked in their drive. I saw it leave this morning, shortly after 6:06 when I thought I’d move after being blasted awake with ELFS and sound. That woman comes late at night with children and parks there then leaves with the kids still in pajamas in the morning. So she’s on a SHIFT I think–Shifting to stay up late and get up early and blast me from the back of that truck with electrical pulse weaponry. 3:16 pm. Drone in the distance.
There’s all sorts of weaponry they use and are keeping on using. Another drone or LFP–3:21 pm. The whole day yesterday and today there were skin paralysis weapons trained on my thighs, there were RF hits on my liver and gallbladder and pancreas, there were skin graze hits on breast, atrial fib hits at the chakras, RF HPM or RF HP MMW at my face, stopping breathing, burning MMW grazes on legs. ELFs and vibrations on bed, couch, spine, private parts–without shielding no one can survive this. And how is it something to survive at all? How did those running the Military and agencies approve this?
There was also high synth in the house yesterday and the night before, high whine sound frequencies–on which they usually float in Techno Acousto–taps on the wall, their own voices, Machine Intel’d–matching the high sound of crickets and a myriad soundmaker insects in the rain and post-rain of the evening.
At 12:21 pm today as I came and sat here (couch, downstairs, front room) I looked at the time. I had just been hit at the heart and I was still hearing the sound of the hits on the metal plate I’d pulled close below my heart directly after–the pulses were directed from below, under the couch–the Mazzeo basement? I couldn’t think where else. I was also hit from behind–there were cars parked on the street, and several houses had cars parked in their drives. The black car I’d seen pull in a bit earlier was still there, behind the oak on the other side.
I’d also been graze hit on the right side of my skull–Chen Limings’ side–upstairs just a few minutes prior perhaps around 12:15 pm. I stuck a small pan under the turban shielding and made it downstairs.
By the French doors, entering the bathroom upstairs: sudden gurgle-choke of cavitation radar at my throat, the first the Mazzeos, the second the Chens. They use MULTIPLE weapons, and it’s constant. Sane, any of this? They all need Deporting. 3:31 pm.
9:12 pm: It just gets Better and Better. Not merely have there been numerous low flying planes over my head, stalking me from front to back, all day today–post those notes above–there’ve been zoomers blasting up and down Pine in the rain, and the various Mercs around here thinking nothing of honking their car horns to call these planes and drones, to come “find her”? Yes I’m wearing some shielding on my head, to protect my Brain, especially after the Brain hits of this morning and the past week. Plus, yes, I am sending DARPA-CIA a message, a very consistent message: My Brain’s my own. My very own. Not yours, assholes. NOT YOURS. Not yours, Israel and China, to savage to pieces. Not yours, QUINCY POLICE and COMMONWEALTH FUSION CENTER and QUINCY DISTRICT COURT, to blast at will and turn to mush. Most of all, not yours, US AIR FORCE and GENERAL DYNAMICS INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY, the wile-filled name for a Defense contractor who is pretty much RUNNING Defense, which I hear is not Defense in actuality but Offense, in fact WAR. Except: it cannot be. The DOD cannot WAR over my head, sending a 100 planes a day, with the sound of Machine Intel voices playing out what I am reading, what I am writing, and what I am saying INSIDE MY HEAD. The DOD cannot WAR over American Land and Soil and is advised to NOT BRING A SINGLE AERIAL VEHICLE OVER MY HEAD, HOME, and LAND AND SOIL. “Talk” begs Ngoan Chen Techno Acousto to my right, while the Mazzeos blast my right inner knee again with Rf HPM–We’re being Mild. 9:20 pm. Mild enough to tear that bone and ligament to bits. In the distance I hear the rumble of a plane. Are we really at WAR? We are NOT.
What the Air Force and CIA and GDIT are doing is run Operations and Training and Surveillance and Reconnaissance Training and other euphemisms for using our fancy Spectrum weapons to blast every activist, journalist, independent thinker to perdition. “We want total annihilation.” Crack of wood on wood from the Mazzeos, 9:22 pm.
Both my knees in pain now so I’ll have to retreat shortly.
But I came here to report a few things. It’s quieter now, but there has been some serious zooming action on the street, in the rain. Yes it’s rained and kept raining, a light warm drizzle, warm for this time of September for Boston. Almost like DC. Except this rain is more like Seattle even. It’s rained for two days now.
RF HPM on knees, Starsiak truck parked outside. 9:25 pm.
That truck has come and parked in the rain, in the evening. I was on the exercise bike, gingerly cycling, careful with my knee, using my sound shield in front of me, hearing the loud RF pulse shots on it from directly across and from the Ruane house, hearing the incessant sound of zoomers. That was 6:45 pm to 7:15 pm, reading as I rode. It was only later, afterwards that I saw that Black Pickup had come by and parked in front–so those hits directed at me as I rode were coming from it. Some very loud hits toward the end, hitting the shielding –flashing with Reflectix–I was seated on. Loud, terrorizing hits, very close to my seat on that bike parked by the front door. Clearly the MEN using their LRADs and RF HPM Pulse Weapons to send pulse weapons into my body, and into my bike and seat could SEE ME CLEARLY. Using TTWS–Through the Wall Sensors–MILLIMETER WAVE, they are STALKING me inside my home, watching my every move, tracking me round the house with incessant RF HPM on my face, body, knees, joints, and private parts. Then blasthit me while I’m exercising. The CHENS were a part of it in a big way, at one point blasting my left ear with energy pulses. I had to raise my sound shield up to my left ear to protect it and to keep on cycling. Apparently I am not supposed to bike–or try even. I am supposed to lurch and hobble, both knees broken, my face inflamed from their spraying, and my private parts turned to masses of pain and itching.
REPORT OF PRIVATE-PART ITCH FREQUENCY SKIN INTRUSION WEAPONS
9:52 pm: So that’s what I need to report here. The CHENS practice PRIVATE PART ITCH FREQUENCY ATTACK and PRIVATE PART BLADDER WEAPON ATTACK and PRIVATE PART ASSAULT AND BATTERY. I believe all of it is called TORTURE and how exactly has the US Military developed such weaponry? SKIN ATTACK WEAPONRY, pointed at the private parts. Just before 6:45 pm, for about 10 to 15 minutes as I looked about for the papers I wanted to read on the bike, I was blasthit by the sink by the CHEN LIMING people of the day with private part itch frequency and extreme-invasion weapons. I came to the front and sat down on the bike and continued to be hit. I was now being hit from directly across–the Pinester House I thought, where the Kimby J club sits and hits–but it might have been that pickup truck–and from the direction, diagonally of the Ruane tenant house where all sorts of people flit in and out. I was compelled therefore to go try to heal the ravaged skin, using cold water (which helps a lot). But why exactly am I being treated like this? And why is ANYONE? How can such weapons possibly even exist? I returned and braved the bike and the constant RF HPM from all sides. But obviously could not do much. My knees are both very sore and the one they have almost pulverized to bits is in quite a fragile state. But I do need to exercise. I need to use my limbs–which I cannot stretch in a walk even to the side of my house–any number of paid mercs wants QPD to come “get the female” for another Psych Terror run, they mean, and the Ngoan Chens want desperately to come and steal anything that’s on the table–groceries, fruit, books, keys, anything–they’ve done quite a bit in the past. So: I am supposed to stay HOUSE-BOUND forever, while being blasted night and day with TERROR WEAPONS and never exercise, and open my shielding so all of them can get at my BRAIN–which somehow they all think might be THEIRS to ravage and ravish? This is like the INSANE ASYLUM for Massachusetts Morons who think this is LIFE, and this is FOREVER, and this is LONG TERM, and this is ACCEPTABLE. Israel is quiet meanhwile, on the other side–Israel and China, woven in with the US Army, the CIA and DIA. And QPD. 9:43 pm.
10:05 pm: A DRONE has come slowly up and parked itself DIRECTLY ABOVE MY HEAD! [This may be my last transmission!} I have scrambled to reshield, and find I’ve lost my special TOP BCI NEURALINK STOPPER which I am now going to look for and stick back on–for the CIA IS ADVISED: You are going to get precisely NOTHING!!! 10:07 pm. ZERO ZERO ZERO is what you’re getting. FOREVER!
11:18 Pm: From directly behind, extreme heat: MMW pulsed in, from that black pickup truck parked just outside as I look at a misleading “Mental health” article online. Blasthits on the shielding I put behind me.
Also, pulsing ELF vibrations on the couch–from the Mazzeos I think–but could also be crossed in by that Black Pickup. Sound of footsteps outside. For anyone could walk up from those houses down the street–the transient houses where new “researchers” come and hang out, with their Psy Ops–to send pulse-hits in, “take readings” and so on. 11:20 pm.
Right side liver/gallbladder RF pulse hit: Black Pickup truck and people behind in the Pinester house, 11:45 pm. Shielded. These are opportunistic, stalking fiends. 11:47 pm, Sep 25, 2025.
