Like the last time that I was victimized by voyeurism by a landlord, the conglomerate encouraged it to happen to me and is now ridiculing me for everything that it sees and hears from a live feed that it has gotten into all of those illegal recording electronics in my apartment.
I don't think that there was audiorecording in the last apartment, at Braintree Village; there were hidden videocameras everywhere, though.
When I confronted the property management at Braintree Village, asking if there were cameras hidden in the apartment, they said that there weren't and then they took me to court, told the judge that I was crazy and had me evicted. It took two years to get another apartment, and I could have lost my Section 8 voucher because I was evicted. If I get evicted again, I'll probably lose the voucher. Since I get harassed everywhere that I work, until I get called crazy and fired, I'll be homeless again, this time without hope of getting another place to live.
I know that the voyeurism in the apartment that I got a few months ago started as soon as I got the apartment. The landlord or the maintenance people hid the cameras and audiorecording devices everywhere in the apartment. There's even audiorecording voyeurism happening in my bathroom, as disgusting as that is; not that all of it isn't disgusting, because it is.
The conglomerate is getting the video and audio from the apartment.
The apartment attacks me about the food that I have in my apartment:
Those are pictures from today of part of the first page of the website of the New York Times.
I always have granola at my apartment.
The conglomerate attacks me about the radio stations that I listen to; I finally bought a radio so that I could have something to cover the sound of my using the toilet. The radio doesn't get a lot of stations; the conglomerate is attacking me because it's getting audio recordings of the stations when they advertise the numbers for their channels, which I can't do anything about. I'd have to buy music to play if I'm not going to listen to the radio, and the conglomerate would attack me about whichever music I bought.
It's like the last time that I had an apartment, except worse, because this time they're getting sound, also.
My facial expressions. What I wear to sleep in (usually a tank top and shorts; not risqué, and I almost always wear a bra to bed). What book I'm reading. The positions of my limbs.
Everything.
The conglomerate is victim-blaming me for the voyeurism that it has inflicted on me, and attacking me for every interpretation that it makes of everything that it observes of me through its totally illegal invasions of my privacy, into my home.
I don't know how to get the cameras and audiorecording electronics out of the apartment; I don't know where they are, because they're hidden. I know that they're there; the conglomerate has attacked me about them for its own amusement since I got the apartment.
I don't know whom to tell; if I walk into the police station and try to talk to someone about it, I could get a conglomerate-supportive police officer who berates me, calls me crazy, demands proof that it's happening which saying "there's code in the newspapers about it" won't do anything except get me locked up in a mental hospital, and a police officer might even call the landlord to tell them that I talked to the police and am delusional.
I once tried to call the FBI to ask them to try to stop my phone from being hacked; that phone call ended with a "click," not from my side.
The conglomerate has viciously tortured me for six years. Each abuse is more horrific than the one before it. I get treated as if I deserve the abuse, then I get blamed for the abuse, which is used as an excuse for more abuse.
I turn off the light and have a towel under the door every time that I take a shower, use the toilet or change my clothes.
Of course I never masturbate with the light on, or walk around in my underwear. The one time that I tried to wax my legs in the bathroom, the conglomerate attacked me for that; nobody can wax in the dark.
Watch the freak. That's what the conglomerate has turned my life into; watch the freak do everything she can to protect herself from you. That she can't protect herself because you're vicious and hateful is funny, too.
Copyright, with noted exceptions, L. Kochman, July 5, 2016 @ 8:13 p.m.
