Terrorists are Psychopaths
You wach Collateral and think that my precious looks crazy for real there, so that you imagine he has some mental problem naturally. Yet he is just an extraordinary actor making his top effort to portray a serial killer, who however kills for a reason that makes sense to most of us (money), so a mercenary. I tell you: because he is so sensitive and romantic, therefore has a wonderful and yummy heart (as the cannibals would like to put it), he has feelings that you can see through his facial expressions as he does 'the character's thing', which is killing those people in his list. Well, the true psychos that I dealt with by that 1972 (they changed thanks to raising me after at most 1974) had the facial and body expression of an ET, as for the movies we watch: not a sign of alteration as they speak, move or 'do their stuff'. They move all together as if in sync as they walk with me and they never look at each other. They stare all the time at the front and their eyes seem to be opaque (so no sparkle). It is not as if they are hypnotized: it is rather as if they are dead alive people or something. Their bodies are rigid as they walk, as if they were made of wood: in normal people, the body bends in places as they move, hands and arms move as they walk, but, in them, nothing like that.
They rape and don't change their expression ever as they do that either: they make repeated movements of what seems to be equal length of dislocation ('Braganca' raped me once more inside of this thing recently, so 'my father'). Their eyes don't blink ever, as they walk or rape or do anything else.
They don't look at each other and say: Hey, I have raped one more! There is no celebration. They don't laugh or cry or anything else. They converse among themselves about what has to be done next and their voices sound all equal: same tone, same space between words and so on. They talk very little and avoid any word that means identification of those who speak or are attacked, so that they never use words such as 'I', names, 'love', 'wife', 'husband', etc. They say: so he is gonna come tonight (one of them). The other says: won't come on his own. The other says: what could he bring. Money could be expected. The other says: he will want to take him. So on. That was for when a particular man, who had me with him, and I don't have any idea about who he was, just seemed to be a carioca speaking English, who believed he had to save me and Tom, would come to their meeting place, which was the masonry (Sydney). They put me with him where he was staying and I was in his arms as he walked. He then consulted me, as they all do: should I call police? He was obviously bugged and was just one more target. They then inserted suggestions (I would say an entire script) in him through the bug for him to believe he had to save me and Tom. He had me, now he had to get also Tom. That is a 'narrative' and 'Nelson' loved those. Perhaps they all did. Another white man. I obviously tell him to do that: yeah, you should. He then hesitates and doesn't do it even because there is no public boot where we go. How does he even know where to go? He was obviously bugged. The marginal loves stories and therefore they spent life living the acting, which is something they conversed about with me: at a certain stage, 'Nelson' and 'Braganca' say, he is going to pretend to be doing things but you are going to do them for real. They were then referring to the movies of Tom and the fact that I would be actually doing those things in real life while he would be using doubles or pretending to live those things.
As they told me that, they were already having more feelings, so that their faces and bodies didn't look like they were made of machinery inside anymore because they had spent some time with me already, observing my feelings, understanding my thinking and listening to it. Yet, back then, they did exactly that: they created pieces of movies, plots, and made victims be involved through playing actors or, in my case, through accompanying the making of all, as a production person would perhaps but helping at most with the logic involved. That day, of the conversation of the three of them, they were still preparing things, so that, after they decide that they are going to expect that he brings money, I enter the masonry through the front with them, we stay in the little compartment containing the reception and toilet, the toilet to the right side of the entry, extreme of the compartment, the reception to the front of the door, a door to the back, which seemed to be aligned with the front door, me and Leinha, while the others go away. I then have Jayme, Leinha and one more person there, not sure who anymore but it is all in my memories (no access to those at the moment). Leinha then talks about holding a tube (something like a methanol tube, which 'Joao Carlos' got to know from consulting his MI5 acquaintance, probably another usurper) and wants 'Jayme' to be behind the open door (no actual door that I could see, just an opening) with the other person holding the tube right at the entry, behind 'the door'. 'Jayme' doesn't want to do it. From there, someone takes me to 'him', the man whose identity I don't know. I then come with him, we pass that point, of the police thing, and he enters the compartment with me after a short interlude with 'Braganca'. 'Braganca' then asks him if he brought the money. He is quite lost, understanding nothing, and asks repeatedly about Tom by saying 'where is he', 'I came to pick him up'. We then enter the compartment and he feels there is something wrong, since he has just crossed the column they were holding there 'for him'. He is then suspicious, also because of the 'conversation' with 'Braganca'. He then speaks to me again and says, 'I am going to go here' and he then finds the toilet. He thinks of escaping through a window but there is no chance, so that he ends up going back to the middle of the compartment and they direct him to the tent at the back. There another two, one of them 'Joao Carlos', are holding a second tube, which he also crosses. He is then going to fall into the hole they dug but 'Murillo' saves me at that stage. He picks me up from his arms. While his body received the shock of the second column, my heart felt something like a shock, he seemed to be dying or have died. I then pass out in the hands of Murillo, my heart seemed to have taken that shock and I seemed to have died. According to Leinha, she threw me in the trash bin and the police found me there, when they then realized I was still alive. I then watch the police coming around and all else (when they kill the two lonely cops and usurp, sending two other people in their place dressed like them to the Federal Police station).
'Nelson' told me they drank from his skull (they seem to have burnt him until there were only bones) and he referred to a part of the skull called xalas or something like that, now I don't remember very well: that had some meaning attached to it, which I also don't remember. They would have drunk an alcoholic beverage from it, perhaps wine, in the end. The methanol column has then the effect of alcohol in excess and it enters straight into the lower region of the body, without the need of drinking. According to 'Joao Carlos', this is information the MI5, therefore the intelligence of England, has got. Indeed, they also took knowledge about usurpation from the United Nations files. This sort of information should obviously be available to all of us, so that we all have equal chances of surviving and predicting an attack of that type, trivially. Yet he would never have a chance, even because he was already bugged. 'Nelson' thought that the stories would entertain me. Indeed they did. Terrorist way of telling stories to kids?
Tom was not there, so that it did not make much sense having the man coming after him and the marginal is not so perfect with the stories. No twin for me on that occasion and no other baby either. They seem to never commit a mistake though: if they think the position of the column is wrong, they fix it like 'Lea Maria' fixed the movement of her body to adjust it to the higher drawers: all looks natural and, in our head, as if they never commited a mistake. Their faces don't change, they don't utter anything, each one plays their role and solves their own problems, so that if one side wasn't right, that side will have the psycho responsible for it doing something to fix it without that one making a sound or having any change on the face that would tell you they think they have done something wrong, wrong is just part, like you then fix it, done.
It is this sort of people I now have in my head, appearing in voice or image. I then wish for someone who masters the science of manipulation of will to show up and make them obey them, then directing them to publish about the carioca crimes in the printed press immediately. I am sure this sort of person exists: a person who is not a psychopath but has studied phenomena such as the blind obedience of Hitler's soldiers or gang behavior and is therefore able to give orders that will be obeyed by the psychos blindly, with no need of weapons or gadgets. Mata Hari is a woman and seems to have gotten the man she seduced to do anyting she wanted, undergo any level of humiliation, even instead of having sex with her, so what is called sodomy.
The people who attack me via voice never commit a mistake, no hesitation or anything, just like a machine: they repeat my every line of thought at the moment I am thinking and sometimes even before that. They remain doing my head 24/7, with me not even being sure how they organize themselves, like it comes across as if it is the same people always. They have no alteration in their voices ever (tone or anything else).
I now think they referred to the situation of them creating the scripts for the victims and me partipating in their stories without knowing it is a movie, so as an unaware actor, in the same style we see in the movie about making a movie involving people who have not consented with their participation in such a thing. That was actually my idea, like they got it from my head, and so is Collateral, with me having thought of Tom first, what role would be the least expected for him and therefore that would guarantee him more exposure in terms of his talents, to then think of the plot (back then, I just felt this enormous thing coming from him toward me, like a connection, a very strong one, which I had with nobody else, yet I had my memories blanked and our twinhood stolen in the ways here described. I wanted to help him shine highest, to make him happy), so that I guess these two came from my subconcious memories (they enveloped my memories and things of the type).
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