Either that private investigator and the people working for her didn't know how to find them, or they didn't really look for them, or they lied to me and took the money.
Through the hidden cameras that were in that apartment from the time that I got the apartment to the time that I was evicted from it for asking the landlord if there were hidden cameras in it, the conglomerate saw me give over $1000 in cash to the private investigator who said she hadn't found anything. That was how much she had said the investigation would cost, so that's what I paid her after she and a couple of men walked around my apartment for less than an hour.
I had asked her to search the apartment because I was hoping that I could get the cameras out and also give proof to the court that the landlord was lying about me. The landlord had already brought the eviction case against me; there were three hearings about it, and I represented myself at all of them. If I could have proven that the cameras were there, not only would I not have gotten evicted, I could have sued the landlord.
If I hadn't called the private investigator, I could have used the money that I gave her to get another place to live.
I don't think that I want to know what all of the people who watched me in that apartment for the year that I lived there told themselves about what they wanted to believe I felt about the cameras being there. Not one of them ever offered to help me get the cameras out. Although I wrote and talked publicly at blogs about knowing that the cameras were there and how miserable I was because of them, I never asked anyone else for help to get them out, because that would have necessitated meeting famous people in person and them being in my apartment. Not only did I think that probably wasn't a good idea, I didn't want to owe them anything.
The only person whom I ever asked to get the cameras out of that apartment was the private investigator, whom I paid to do nothing other than cough in my face while I was counting the money to give to her.
I knew that the local police wouldn't search my apartment for the cameras if I asked them for help; the landlord had already told the police that I was crazy. After I had asked the landlord if there were cameras in the apartment, which the landlord denied, the landlord told the police that I was crazy and sent the police to my apartment to take me to an Emergency Room for a psychiatric evaluation. The police told the Emergency Room what the landlord had said, and then I got involuntarily committed to a mental hospital. While I was in the mental hospital, the landlord sent me the eviction letter. A few months later, I was homeless again, for another two years until I got the apartment that I have now.
There is NO TRUTH to the idea that I like what's happening to me. I live with it because I have to live with it, unless I die, like everyone else to whom horrible things happen. That I haven't killed myself yet, even though I have talked about it all the time since 2010, is NOT A REASON FOR THE CONGLOMERATE TO CONTINUE TO DO HORRIBLE THINGS TO ME!
By the time that I got the apartment that I had from March 2013-February 2014, I had already been repeatedly victimized by voyeurism in the bathrooms of homeless shelters and psychiatric facilities, which the conglomerate encouraged the public to do to me and to everyone else who couldn't do anything about it. That was why I never took a shower or used the toilet or changed my clothes in that apartment without turning off the lights, which the conglomerate never tells anyone or acknowledges that I did to try to protect myself. What the conglomerate did was torture me with jokes about forcing me to turn the lights on.
Copyright L. Kochman, October 24, 2016 @ 3:17 p.m.
