tisdag 7 februari 2017

måndag 30 mars 2015

lördag 28 mars 2015

Torsten Föllinger- is by some known, as the star of the stars. Star in this case means ‘ Zarah Leander-Ernst Hugo Järegård, Erland Josephson, Liv Ullman, Birgit Nilsson’  etc.

He was himself a figure whom liked more to perform among common people, lowering his wing of humility, in a harsh geniality, which jumped forward, exclaiming truths of joy to laugh about. But not in any mean matter, like Ingmar Bergman, who, was his arch enemy, mostly because Bergman wanted his actors like Liv Ullman, Erland Josephsson and Torstens ‘best friend’ Allan Edwall, to act dirty things in front of the camera…”He liked such things…” as Torsten driely exclaimed, and, put another piece of cake into his mouth. Zarah Leander loved orgies and, one amusing story is about how her husband Vidar one evening called Torsten and complained “ We have patriates here again”. Torsten promised to come, cause, as Vidar stated; he knew Torsten was the only one Zarah respected (or one of the few) and, if she knew he would come, she would turn the bunch of lovers out…

Torsten unhatched the connection to the telephone and next day travelled in his car with his bulldog ‘Smulan’ out to the mannor country house, were Zarah ‘was living’. It turned out that Zarahs daschshund happened to arrive from the neighbour at about the same moment and, she stood on the porch, with a brush in her hand, she complained that the dog had been chasing after the neighbour’s , ‘in this way, now, you have gotten yours’, and he has had his…’, it was during the time of mating dance.

As she lifted the brush to hit it. Torsten said

“ You aren´t going to hit the dog are you? Slap me instead… Surely it is really me you are mad at”.

“ Go away!”…

”Do you want me to leave? I have travelled far just to see you” There was a pause - of heartbeat - false and true.

“Come on, you devil…”. Zarah gestured towards the front door.

It is said Zarah Leander boosted Herman Göring under the table, if that was when, he lived in Liljeholmen, at Liljeholmsvägen 8A,  by the harbor of Mälaren, or in Germany when she performed for the stab of the Nazis is unsure.

“ This … old, old legend … this …”. Torsten was once introduced for the resignation class in the Dramatic Institute (DI). “ Yes, I am old as the grave, and Allan here is three years younger than me” in a gesture torwards Allan Edwall.

Torstens teaching had the following elements; ´if the performer feels pleasure the audience also will´. In this sense teaching the essence of intercause.

“Success or fiasco, but not be a good boy”

This was the whole of his genial teaching in its’ essence.

He received all kinds of peoples, not only stars. One of them who came to Torsten, at an early age, was Ted Gärdestad. The days before his claimed suicide, he visited Torsten, asking for assistance. The still quite young star, had become part of the bagwa sect ( in Arabic – this would implement something like an illegal fighter; and in Pali a master of his own). All members of the sect were forced to carry the leaders picture around their necks. Ted had become a victim of his own success and through the intense pleasure of many girlfriends, meditative drugs and material richess, fallen into the trap of machokism. (That is, to cause himself harm, pain, and unreasonably strict hygiene to push his genius onwards into further creativity for which his audience craved).

Torsten – besides his masterwork, also extracted in the social field, as a personal guard of releast criminals, where his rolemodel was his mothers’.

When young, he experienced his mothers’ strength, in being fearless of bulls. The bull – backed of and snorted, but Ingeborg didn´t care but kept on walking through the fenced yard. The bull – backed of and snorted, but her psycic strength were such, the animal didn´t attack. In such a way, Torsten treated criminals, with lessons of singing. One of them used to escape from prison in the following way; he went on lease around the prison and further on. When out of sight he began to run. His guards chasing him. When he had tired them, he asked to be releast (of his handcuffs?). They had to walk back alone.

One night Torsten went across Norra Bantorget in central Stockholm. As he was about to cross, he saw a heavy built character, approaching towards him, the opposite way “be prepared…”, Torsten murmured to himself ‘surely it is a stiletto’.

“I need money”. A voice from a dark shadow in the darkness of night. “Isn´t that your problem?...”. “Do you see what I have in my hand?..”. “Really! Look…! – Isn´t that a – such – a – st - sti – sti – sti – sti…letto!”. Torsten said in a very silly voice ‘senil – old – idiot – panthomin’ “Damn old bastard…”, the shadow exclaimed and went away.

“You see he couldn´t attack a defenseless…”

His mother when he still was a youth – sitting under a kitchen table, cutting cows and sheep from newspaper as siluetts in his own design. There was announced; the most life dangerous intern in Östersund (Norrland/Jämtland) had escaped from the prison. He was a life danger! It was claimed.

His mother – sailed out in to the stair well and exclaimed in the darkness penetratingly “Is someone there?”. “Yes”, came an answer – it was – the life dangerous murderer,

“I do not permit you to be running like this out in the night. Harken! You enter, and we will have a cup of tea and a chat”

Soon – the life dangerous intern became, like a baby in the lap of his mother…”Shouldn´t we call the police, so they can shelter you, it´s a cold night”. ‘My mother was very firm you see; but, she never betrayed anyone.’

Torsten always practiced theatre in real life. As he was coming out of Dramaten in Stockholm –  whose artistic leader he were for several years, one autumn evening – he was attacked by criminals,  wanting to penetrate the building –

“We hit you down, old bastard!”

But – Torsten – wouldn´t permit them to get inside. He – had practiced some falling situations – already in Calle Flygares Theaterschool. As they hit him – he fell without hurting himself, by this surprising the burglery – robbers – who, must have thougth he had past out. Unluckely – this didn´t work with the “healthcare” – who gave him a shot – ‘swine – flou – vaccination’ – without his outright consent – and – he developed a weakness which made the skincancer spread more rapidly.

He should have become 88 in 11th  march 2010 – but – the 6th – he saw a very good friend -  and, read some poems. In the night – he past on – to heaven hopefully…

He spoke much about Ottar, his best friend in his youth – who – had died out of tuberculosis,

He often – felt his presence, and longed to die – so he could meet him again in person…

As young a gang of boys approached him violently

“To see a gay motherfucker like you!”.

“Think of me…I have to look myself in the mirror everyday…”.

The leader of the gang – said something so stupid – Torsten never remembered the thing. This made the whole gang laugh -

“Since that day he was one of my best friends…”

Torstens’ sadness about his leaning towards homofili, sometimes (instilled) impressed in him such a depressed state –  he wanted to jump out of his own window. But – the thought of his pupils climbing the five flights – to his attic appartment with view over the woods of Nacka, on Ringvägen 163 – always cheered him up.

He spoke very pleasantly about so called idiots, which lacked the refinery of expression.

He was a supporter of theirs’, almost everyone loved him, and he never preached homosexuality to anyone, as far as I know. But – always warned against perversion of intrinsic nature. He had tried it with woman – but he wanted a man – not only to have sex with, this he could do in two minutes in the toilet (en la toilette), but – to speak with – to enfold – to love…really love... may Allah grant him forgiveness of his sins, in this world – and grant him Paradise –


Torstens observation as Jussi Björling - was about to take a high tune, he snored

( the opposite of harkling)  Margaretha Krook personally one of the shyest persons - used to run around in the corridors of Dramaten,  in a faint panic, hours before the show , but on stage she was perfectly calm...

The insight was ,as she, hired Torsten to participate in one of her repetitions (Torsten recieved the price of one lesson), that others’ critizism, and interferance, in the spontainious flow, strains the voice.

'let Margaretha herself decide'

and the voice sprang free of bonds.

Tommy Körberg, squeezed the muscles of his buttocks in high notes,  similar to holding a fart, this elevates your own mind, and the minds of beloved.

As you take the high tune, you look down, as shy


 in bas notes, you look up, as repenting, asking forgiveness of Allah in the sky...

each note word, is formulated by the stomache muscles -- the more intense the piece, the harder the muscles, has to formulate... smiling in spontainious pleasure, makes notes, and text, flow more easily.

Putting ones tongue,  folded up, into ones tonsils, and humming, will spontainiously, activate vibration from stomache muscles, as a beutiful pillar of high clear air through the body        (according to Negro met outside Folklore Center, Izzy Young)

movement with the arm, in forms of 'Sieg Heil' will help the high tunes, as they flow away as an eagle, opening the mouth widely in a smile, rolling ones eye balls in extacy.

lying on the floor imitating ducks sqeeking     not filling the chest with air, but the stomache,   as critics come just stand listening as they extend their excessive talk, you might    come to think of something amusing    'vendetta, turn this and you might find a friend...'




Red Handed Ferlin


'Raina' screams Nils Ferlin  in disgusting irony
a kabaree, of theathre,
he prays  'God May',
but 'may' is malplace,
brings atonal note, into the art cafee
smiles heartlessly follows with gaze the adorable beauty
'God how beautiful you are!'
gasping worshipping his lusts
panthomin of poetical life writing his own mythology
to rise, strife...?


I hate your cunningness

It feels like every gift you give

Has hidden purposes, only for you to win

As you present perspectives of good fortune

A future free of troubles

The thankful, open up

Reveal and give much in return

Afterwards you try to buy his soul

His freedom of tounge

And push him towards hellfire



Who says his word never breaks,

But takes back all given promises

And keep on depressing acquaintances

With hopes taken back

If over-sensitive ears

Perceive a revealing attack

Rely upon persons no more

Whom with golden promises makes people work


Juri Lina and beauty


Bonus material in Juri Linas latest film, banned from Swedish Cinemas, was named The Recognision, produced for Estonian Rix Television, in 1992, after the restoration of national independance.

If we do not recognize and fight the evil before it freezes permanently, we will have to recognize each other without possibility to openly speak... and cry inside in a tragedy

the special recognision between the eyes of two aartists, becomes the insight, that once they were kings, now forced to put weapons aside, and fight side by side, for even the permission to speak...

love, at first sight, but the fear of betrayal  a trespass into the invisible pulp, between the recognizers, and confuses the salutation with the possibility of accusations of madness etc.

If a people is not strong enough to fight the evil in its cradle, soon fewer and fewer  will recognize each other.

It is like Juri Linas audience, were an Island in a sea of burning lava.

William S. Burroughs doesnt give time to cry over this fact because,  the work needs to be done... etc.


Schoupenhaurs wishing without wanting, is the key to existence.

Actions are judged according to their intentions...' it is said in the Sunnah

Juri Lina has made an artform out of information flow

which enables the poet of today to reconnect with the mechanistic society, and trespass the true myth, that a poet cannot participate in modern high tech...

He can when he services the purpose of spreading important information, through 'internet' copyright, is in Juri Linas eyes, a question of security, we are encouraraged to only share his art with close friends, and not bump the maniac drum, in a large display of his genial pieces...

It might threath us, at the spot, in longer term, Mossad would find too big interest in the author, which could threath also his life.

Of course, he needs the money for the product, to survive. Juri Lina, is a restorer of history, such things which brainswash imposed upon us, as disgusting and evil, Juri Lina restores through careful presenting information. Films like Kraftmätningen, Lightbringers, In the shadow of Hermes,  The unsatisfiable Ouroubours, a more tense horrifying atmosphere, is created, in figuration with classical pieces from Schostakovitj, Bach, Mozart, Toivo Kurmet, Gian Piero Reverberi, at the same time, we look out the window 'this is real!...'

in the east, in the south, Germany, in the west america, 'it is real'...

and we realize how vain and futile, our dreams were of poetry, because in this reality, we  decide ourselves to restist the masonic oppresson and suddenly we have access to what opinion today call 'reality', which is 'viritual'...


Beauty, in Juri Linas world, stems from love of goodness, but the profound thought that beauty simply comes from Allah as a blessing, for following His guidance, has not yet dawned on his horizon..  Everything does not need to be constructed to fit the point. 'Lawless winged and unconfined and breaks all chains from every mind... deceit to secrecy confined lawful cautious and refined, to everything but interest blind, and forges fetters for the mind...'

We do not get beautiful by contempting fat women, we do not get inspiration, by exclusively choosing intelligent people as our companions.,. all calculations are devoid of meaning, to die as martyrs our only choice....

The work needs to be done, crying wailing will not awake the oppressors hearts, in most cases...

what is needed is resitance, but we do not take the real part in the tragedy, if we refuse to cry...

Burroughs only loosenes the words so that our true thinking is spitted out, regardless of the consequenses.

Juri Linas restoration of reality about Franscisco Franco, Adolf Hitler, and Mussolini, is breath taking, and, we realize, that the lie about Franco, is hindering us from understanding, the consequences which he tried to end, in spite he wasn't allowed to send Spanish troops to help Hungary in 1953, against the communistic oppressors,  because Eisenhower threatened with war if he did.

U.S. had always helped Sovjet Union and financed the October 1917

So we recognize each other, despite of the lies, and this love cracks the shell from inside.

Schoupenhauers realization, that energy never perishes, but transforms, if we refuse to take the risk of being jailed for 'Sieg Heil' moving our right arm, energy transforms hopefully, into a struggle of revieling the true facts which constructed 'a Hell in Heaven despite'

if we fear something more than Allah, and thereby disregard Gods command, we will have to face it sooner or later, it is the choices we do not make which leads ur finally to face the One we Love...

the coward's disregard for Allah's command, has finally led us to be surrounded by evil, we recognize each others secret leanings, in the cunningly beautiful rays of evening...


Toivo Kurmet, himself, the subject of Juri Linas latest film, became a victim of conspiration. Imprisoned in Estonia, for one year, the probably cause, of his cancer, was in the substances his food secretly contained.

Estonian conspirators killer their national hero, in the modern way; through poisounous substances, 'the world snake', 'brood of vipers'.

Besides this Juri Linas book, Architects of deception, contains stunning facts, about Adolf Hitlers connections into freemasonic financial supporters, and what kinds of vitamins and minerals he would have needed instead of Theodor Morrel's (may Allah protect us from the remembrerance of his name), Belladonna, with one word, Juri Lina is a world genius, a classic, which will be read with ever renewed interest generation after generation as long as his production exists.

Shellfish, have a tasty containment, and beautiful shell - we cannot recognize, a pure soul, if we have presupposed judgements about foreigners.

The recognition is beyond characteristics of nations and classes.

Nationalism, is important, the aspect we first guard, what is closest to us, family, friends, neighbours, citites, even a nation is usually too big to fathom defending, but the usage of homogenous language, marks the border.

If we move to a country, we have to will become a part of that nation, and speak its language.

Thus not simply to fill our pockets with its money, increasing its national dept, and then go!

This is robbery as stated in the Quraan (sura 83)...

One serious flaw in Juri Linas world view is his contempt for monotheism.


If Allah is Reality then the “theory” or “teaching” has to be disregarded if He wills.


But Islams unique aspect is the protection of Allah there fore named “religion”.


If a law is formed somewhere, it is a tiny fact compared to Allah’s law, but still a fact, a part of our reality.  But an evil such, we cannot follow such an perverted movement, rather die as martyrs .If on the other hand reality is looked upon as facts every thing is destroyed and inner peace unachievable Allah is Fact Al Haqq, morality therefore, is a structure to move inside - without which we are homeless.

Allah being the source of inspiration, therefore morality is not Reality but an aspect of our creation.


This attitude leads to reliance upon the audience, instead of Allah so-called collective writing its evil form communism. In modern times anti- monotheistic  writers torture themselves behinds computer screens to convince and stupefies and grows crazy  the sickness William S. Burroughs mentions in junkie to live through hardships perversions, etc. – to be able to write about it, is deplored by Juri Lina Andrej Tarkovskij and Toivo Kurmet.


A person calling himself “poet” takes rights of immorality, for the sake of writing, suddenly relying upon the “audience” and not in Allah.


But still this Novus Ordo Seclorum art might have at least some good results if published. But the skizophrenic aspect relying upon a publisher in disregard of Allah spoils most of it. Computers are electronic instruments termed as “haram” because if you hit the wrong tune you will behave well like a machine to achieve the calculated result.


“play well” in social life is hypocrisy –


Therefore the fingers being forced to hit “the right” notes become a mental disease.


Your voice is affected by your sins, your vocal cords stretches in false tunes when bad conscience, arises, it will make you afraid to be revealed, to sing.


Instruments are expensive imitators of voice, makes you afraid to crack them at the same time revealed as the absence of zikhr makes you uncontrollable. Never pay a life guard (never accept the price of a dog) there is nothing victorious in being famous, achievable and welcomed only when some good change can be achieved by the mass copy. Worst is being famous for something evil presented as “good”.


Rather infamous without valid cause.


To claim to have gained superiorial knowledge is sort of to attach oneself to the karma law when at the same time as we take heed to the karma law we have to realize that all is Allah’s creation.

As we miss the aeroplane we should say praise to Allah. Money is unique for humans and what makes us free to choose. If we come into conflict at one place we can move to another without having to acquaint anyone. If we solely believe karma to be the highest reality we would either think ourselves better than the other passengers or blame ourselves for past sins. Qaburat Qalimatan (suura 18, ayat 5) is “I am better” because Allah has never taken a son, nor is He created - our witnessing about ourselves - becomes our fall from Allah’s will - into karma – Allah will test us, any one of us, if He wills – with the same situations as the ones we claim to have the better of – if we are born in a rich family, He might put us into a poor one “next life” and thereby test us to conditions that we were aware of. Islam is justice and the one confessing his faith in it with his heart becomes puure.

His environment had made him other than muslim, so the blame falls upon the deceivers. Now, finally it was understood, and by this Islam is the ultimate reality, our Fitra.

One thing we have to take care not to fall into as reading Juri Lina is polytheistic fascism. To regard oneself as a name of the law might be true, but Antichrist also misuses the karma law to convince his subjects of his right to inflict harm upon them. Playing God, he gives us memories of bad days to convince us of his superiority.

Christ saying in Thomas’ gospel “From the light of the world” as regards to the question where we all come from, implements that skin color, social class, outer conditions doesn’t matter as long as the meeting of souls, persons, humans releases the light of love.

We might be better in Allah’s eyes, but only Allah is allowed to state this fact ‘cause he knows what everyone does all the time.

William S. Burroughs’ work seems to bring forth good out of evil. By the aptness to confess your sins which makes you strive to create good and when people have received the good work, you confess your faults in hope to become accepted anyway - and then you hide your good actions - which looks <sign> - the opposite of the Shytanic symbol I know yet of none in modern times who could do such heinous actions and yet avoid to be stoned.

I feel like Moses in front of Khidr standing with the law of the last prophet before doomsday the Sharia of prophet Muhammad (upon him, Allah’s godful peace) and yet be unable to judge this man. The common public of course are allowed to judge according to Sharia - I can not - but I would advise them carefulness.

It looks like William S. Burroughs is on some kind of a mission to prove the consequences of if we knew what today’s world leaders are doing in their freemasonic lodges.

And also prove that lovesickness is less severe than craving for money.

This means that our brainwashed society where people sell their souls for a mobile telephone, symbolically speaking, letting themselves be controlled by psychopaths are less easily forgiven than S. Burroughs.

At least his life was his own and ignorance is in Buddhism the biggest sin.

(Muurderer, frei mauren Berl - inn)

At the very same time William Blake makes a profound statement - or rather - the Devil in his proverb’s of Hell (William Blake, an author which everyone at one point have to read). William S. Burroughs created a heaven of what he stole from the abyss, which means his way of sins released blocks of imagination hidden from the sight of morally rigid characters.

His aim was his authorship. What would he have done without a publisher? Whom would have listened; “Today I molested a child”? Cracked skull quite soon I am sure.

This was and is a serious flaw in his enlightenment, but really to me he seems like a Walli Allah similar to the two angels Harud and Marud whom were sent to test people by teaching them magic. They never taught anyone without first mentioning “This is only a test, so do not become disbelievers by putting your faith in it”.


Post Scriptum

A child should be brought up by the hand. A harsh upbringing is the best ‘cause perverse sex is stemming from denial of Allah’s wrath and thus sentimental objections to God’s punishment one becomes like caught in a piece of plutonium.

The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction - William Blake.

The one entering into reading Burroughs, may Allah protect us from his sins, should ponder upon this line:

“Since the computer has X and not the indestructible as creator we get xexped.”



William S. Burroughs, Suura 7 vers 107



Muses staff, swallows all the black magic, and William then becomes a pensil writing to give back what they have stolen from the unseen (because the unseen has to be a whole) to give back to the audience. Even though he had lacked a publisher this was his mission and thus he would have been excused.  This illuminating serpent is a believer; if you read him without following the Sunnah you will be a Robert Christie (women strangler), if though you read him as a muslim, you have access to what makes life seem boring, and your apprehensiveness of the unseen realities becomes stunning!


His book, The Wild Boys, is exactly a prop to mask his real work, which at the time, was to reveal the stunning fact of The Hanging of Jerry Green and the new type of massproducable black magic, thanks to film materia as statue.

If you are in pain, speak, even though you repeat yourself (do not be a machokist, reluctant to repeat yourself)



The young man of Mary McCarthy, is the brown artist replica, whom does not allow himself the relisation that idolatry is forbidden. Thus he tries to kill with his love, as the bang utåt attack who equates sex orgasm with death, (the Khawarijs 51, first forced moral put up as fear of an idolpicture of Islam)


The young man does this as a replica of the silver wolf, his fucking has the goal to instigate jealousy and thus cancer in the other males, as his uncontrollable, makes him insane. The woman dies in maternity, and the father gets institutionalized, and the black magicians gets just another child to sacrifice.



The Brown Artist, keeps silent in these times, the idol for which the young man is sacrificed. They are first sentimental, but, as unluck strikes like a scorpion, the brown artist turns a deaf ear.

Eve Riimus oppressors of unluck…

 to be corrected later


vad är det för idee att ha vita hus om svarmagiker mördar förväntansfulla ungar i domens letargi?

vänster pann lob med psykos mekanik

penetrerar inre hjärnbarriärer, levande kära som lukten utav lik

fredag 27 mars 2015


dvs. erat gift dödar livet i en! och långsamt dödar ni ens kropp och själ!, men det är inte det värsta! det värsta är att ni dessutom tjänar pengar på det!

och att ni har laglig rätt till att låsa in vem som ni än behagar, och vålta den, oftast varannan vecka , men ibland mera ofta! och ni vill fortsätta år efter år tills erat offer är dött

"vi gör det faktiskt för att rädda liv....!"
"era egna kanske... det var därför jag sa att det var en ritual...en ritual för att sätta skräck i er omgivning - att inte trots er...

s.k. multiple personlighet är bara ett barn som leker lekar för att växa upp... vad skulle du säga om en dos som denna - vad skulle den göra med de allra flesta persoener?

"de skulle bli medvetslösa många timmar - de med svagt hjärta, t.e.x. kunna dö...

"ok så jag har helt enkelt inte något svagt hjärta och jag är starkare än de flesta vad gör det med påsyket?

det kopplar bort medvetandet...

ok. en man spruinger under sömn ut på gatan klättrar upp på ett tag, hoppar åtta meter landar så han får ont i hela kroppen vilar sig börjar strosa ned bort ifrån där han flytt vad händer sedan - ttvå versioner finns den ene han får syn på en polis springer med enorm stryka fram och slår henne precis över högra tinningen... varför itne vänstra?

ett normalt slag med höger hand borde ju ta på vänstra tinningen - om personen är poförberedd på slaget... Suusanne här äsger att hon såg mig komma på tjugo meter håll varför frågar vi oss då gör hon sig inte beredd på att slag?
"vad tänkte du då marksu började springa fram emot dig?"

"jag ska visa det enklaste sättet för en högherghänt att  slå någon över höger öra... man står mycket nära en person - den personen har sina händer nere vid midjan, i detta fallet pga att handbojorna och betongenn finnns till hands där. vanligtvis jag säger vanligtvis reagerar kroppen spontant på ett liknande slag och armar far i reflex upp så icke om man förbereder att fram handbojor ifrån sidofickan om man däremot ser annan springa emot med avsikt att skada en och man har en batong ja då tar an fram betongen och skyddar ansiktet! höger ögonbryn är mycket svår plats att slå någon poå nom mden är beredd på det!

ett oförberedd slag parear man oftast med en reflex så att huvudet vänds bort ifrån slaget, jag är högerhänr, ett slag ifrån mig borde alltså pta på vänstra sidan av den jag slår fö ett knytnävsslag har alltid en swing!, ett avvärjnbingsslag kan däremot ta diagonalt direkt utan swing... ett sådant slag har jag erkänt och finner det ursäktligt om man tänker pom situationen jag befann mig i!, men agg jag i det tillståndet skulle kunnat springa fram och träffa henne med knytnäven över högre ögonbrynten, det finner jag så otroligt att det är otänkbart!, om jag med kraft sprungit fram för att slå henne hade ju swingen på slaget träffat vänstra örat eller kinden, min inte högra ögonbrynet!, tyvärr, men Susanne Rasmusson är skyldig till mened

(föregående fråga)

"hur såg slaget du fick av markus ut, var slaget hårt, ifrån vilket håll kom det, vilken hand slog han med?...'

efter incidenten vi har försökt klargöra sprang ned emot vattnet, )(vart befann jag mig när jag fick syn på dig?, var du emellan mig och Årstaviken? eller - var jag nere emot vattnet?, om jag befann mig emot vattnets håll ifrån  ditt perspektiv, och du befann dig åt Katarinahusets håll ifrån mitt ,m jag ville nedåt vattnet varför sprang jag då inte bara neådåt vattnet istället för att sprunga upp och slå dig först?

jag sprang ju nedåt vattnet sen

"du var väl hämndlysten - du hatar ju poliser!...'

'låt mig ställa en enkel frågha - i ett sådant tiillstånd - där medvetande graden är nästan 0, kan man vara hämndgirig? efter allt gift, utsvulten het och kroppsskador, är det troligt att man med en mycket dålig synskärpa ens kan urskilja en polisuniform på vad 20 meters håll?

om man vill komma undan tvångsvården - är det troligt att man när man ser en polis (om man såg den på 20 meters håll), sringer för att slå den - då man mycket väl vet att en polis är aldrig bara en - eller är det troligt att man helt enkelt bara lägger benen på ryggen?"

"du säger 'om man vet' men om medvetandegraden är så svag, hur vet man det då?"

"jag bara målade upp ett scenario så som det ser ut i värsta fall (ifrån mitt perspektiv), alltså bästa fall för er, det verkar som även ni inser orimlgheten i erat påhityt!"

"vad yrkar du då på för ersättning för dessa brott?"
"jag yrkar inte på någon ersättning, jag yrkar på att det jag behövt lägga ut fört denna felaktiga dom dvs. alla de vårdkostnader som tvångsvården sedan den 14 juli 2008 - tvingat miog och mina anhöriga att betala ska återbetlas! Jag har inget annat krav, men mina anhöriga kanske har det, men det är  inte upp till mig att avgöra det!

Men; ifall du inte varit sjuk hela tiden, har du ju heller inte haft rätt till någon sjuk ersättning!

Jag har lidit av en allvarlig psykisk störning!, dvs. ni har jagat mig, anklagat mig, vittnat falskt emot mig, förgiftat mig, förföljt mig - plågat sådant som då "man" talar om nazismen och kommunistmen, kallas för 'förföljelse av olikktänkannde' detta - får ni betala för!"

Vad hjälper mig tecken ifrån ett annat rike ? min fågels död - vinsinnets svarta hand? en mops av ädelsten, var finner man hans like? Har lampan sänt mig den ifrån ett annat land? Förtrogen är jag blott med lidandet och sorgen, ensam och fjärran från all världens liv och lust! är det je blott villfarelse av vår natur att vi när många olyckor kommer tillsammans, gärna inbillar oss att det bästa är nära?

Kanske kan man kalla det om manär elak för multiple personlighet, men , ma lägger till ett ord, störning; multiple personlghets störningen, innebär att man som de hela tiden elakt upprepatr i tvångsvården) inte kan hålla ihop sig!" men kan vasstrået välja att inte böja sig då stormen blåser?

I förglömmande förväntan tyckte hon sig se, vad som skulle ske; men det skedde aldrig och hon fantiserade om nya saker; som antagligen aldrig skulle komma att ske... hennes vänner hade börjat hata henne för att hon inte brydde sig om annat än att stirra in i framtiden "dert var väl förbannat! vilken slö vän vi har fått... vid varje fråga vänder hon sig ointresserat bort..." ointresserat... på en divan låg hon och svarade kort om en framtid hon sport, i stjärnornas hav, lyssnaren, fick betalt, och ingen utom denna lyssnare, var intresserad därav...

blåvitt, lite rosa, "aftonbladet" bladet om aftonen stora ljugande bokstävedr, jude bokstäver, i svart oljig orgasm, läckande olljeplattform, säljer plast, den som frösöker förvända sin lott - i pubertalt trots, blir för sjuk; och sätts i djävulshus; livetys trånga krets, älskar den torterade, även fast de förvänt det, i ett icke erkännande.

en diamantisk lidande värld, önskar för sig själv demonisk välfärd, i sin högfärd nskar han att världen dör, plågor han strör omkring sig, ett gott geni dör bort ifrån sina begär och slutar vilja orsaka en massa onda besvär....

vew ets spetsade ögonbrynb, bekymmer delade mörka molnen, släpp fram Allah's Änglar - som må hända sjunga - där uppe i skyn....

den bundna slav - som betlar mera till sin herre - än den själv får - den betalar så att säga sin framtida lön gårdagens arbete, finansierade dagens lön-... i Lyckans hjul

ondskan börjar med vägran att lida den kvinna som vägrar riskerad att bli slagen allierar sig med bögen vars fåniga lagar säger likadant...

Stift tand en fågen som försöker flyga, meningslöst fladdrar med vingarna i tomrummet, som en falsk tand en felspelad ton i symfonin, skorrande läta, eller ett skratt utan gott samvete, en djävul med lysande ögon, ett ondskefullt grin, ett meningslöst flabbande flin; flappande vingklippt fågel, fruktansvärd att se, elden den sprutar får oss att skratta och lee... med flrkirarbnas arogans kommer vi inte långt, om vi ninte faran med denna satniskt komiska figur se...


månen lider i känslan av att vara bortglömd utav sin forne vän... men det syns inte på hennes ansikte...

om man är van att skiuta i mörker, har man svårt att föresätlla sig en förhörsljuslampas ljus... hur det är att gråta i djävulens hus...  du måste gå ned på dina knän om dui blir släppt skickar de räkningen

om du ite betalar den

blir du vräkt

du önskar du vore död innan de plågat dig ihjääl

föreställ dig; att under tårar bli torterad och vråååla medan giftet verkar utplåna din själ

din unga vår, har blivit hård,

och kall utav gifter som veckovis insprutas i dig...

lidande i Helvetet, starka satan i skizophreni vråååålar, att varje frö som här spirar är värt att dö

Toves fysiska kärlek, passionerat andligt lidande älska...

den sista dansen, dansen är slut - bedrägeriets mass mord, är på väg att bryta fram...

'komma ut...' våldtäcktens offer - ser mordet bryta fram - de drömde sig tidigare vara - i 'Guds egen famn'...

en nnalle björn på bröllopsdagen - orgasmens våldsamhet - vissa tar den blodiga lagen - den stelnade anletsdragen - för hälsans psykos.,...

medan livet ligger i kuvös - artos

orsakar lagens psykos, mass mordets hjärntvättade hjärtstillestånd - den som hade svårt att förstå gnodde på ... den som mist förståelsens Kärleks ljus, vandrar vansinnigt omkriing - och ser ensinnigt ned ifrån sitt Helvete...

hans rival, låg död - svärdet sjöd - innuti Mimas glöd - han tog sexigt, i ett krishärjat land - passionen våldsam han kupade sin hand...

'pang pang pang!!'

osande pedofil - svenska män - likt psykopater började driva omkring... för slottsherren är aalla galna den som råkade sitta vid porten - då mördaren red ut - är också den galen då den skyggt drar därifrån

'vi borde skjuta honom med gift-sprutan... skjut!...'

Ut skriven - ut! - skriften!... utskriven - sköt pappret ut - bjudande sitt darrande hår

likt en Dildos skjut

då det var klart, den mörka skyn - likt en grå hårig dam

hade suddats ut... ¨på början utav lagens skrift - ut skriven skjut klar - sen dam i år skjut klar...

Min moder gråter min far slår mig kramar slår mig förbannar mig slår mig ler emot mig

min moder kastar propagandan på golvet

den flyter hon försöker göra en ring utav lögnblad

likt en fluga landat på vattnet

tagen utav en fisk

i ett fisk stiimm...

de sade de kom för att "prata" jag sitter där

de min tystnad hata

de frågar igen hur det ör

om jag lider tav de vanliga världens besvrär

jag sitter bara där de låst in mig i bur, låtit mig bli förgiftad, nästan död nu har jag inget ytterligare att tillägga, de far likt ura höns omkring, grämadnde sig för sin pojke, grämande sig för ingenting...

skriker härföraren när alla sitter och förryckt dräglar, har tågets perversa penetrerande nått sitt tionde steg,,, framgången,m f framliden, en tjänanande nation, slavar gråsarna fly, för inbillad örn, tjäan och tjäna och tjäna

tjänarnas nation de som enbar ttjänar sina egna intressen i Ourobourous ring dog...

"!du kan inte sätta gränser - du måste lära dig att sätta gränser!..."

"Nej!... vad är en gräns?... en gräns för mig är när jag agerar emot mitt samvete när jag håller tillbaka min vrede, när jag är falsk när jag helt enkelt känner att någonting är fel!.... känslan kan inte vara sjuk! - den kan saknas eller finnas - om den saknas behövber personen med beänkande tanke sätta upp regler för sitt agerande

om den finns är känslan till för att tanken ska veta vad som är tillåtet och vad som inte är det.

Skizophreni är en disceband emellan tanke och känsla som pågår i en neurotisk eller psykotisk (omkänslan och tanken är stark) konfrontation - som liksom ett inbördeskrig förorsakar i hos mig skizophreni!

dvs. ni är sjukdomen!   varje regel en annan försöker pådyvla någon emot dess samvete är ont och sjukdom i sig - överhuvudtaget kan det sägas vara ondskan deifinition - vad jag vill säga med detta; det är ni som sakar samvete och därför inte kan förstå mig! det är ni som måste styras med regler och ord - annars mördar ni alla!, men jag behöver det icke! för er finns ingen medicin! ni är redan döda!

upplysning kanske helt enkelt är en kraft som gör slut på alla tankar som inte passar känslan för mycket sjuka tankar gör känslan svag - dvs. känsliga personer är kärleksfulla personer - ni försöker passa dem in i erat sjuka tankesystem! därför så klart blir de galna! tankepolisen - som straffar och torterar människor för deras övertydelser...

'det gör inte vi!'

'ni låter alae ra s.k. "patienter" förstå att de måste erkänna att de är sjuka... "du saknar sjukdomsinsikt" säger ni annars, ni tvingar dem helt enkelt igenom en trålkig miljö dålig mat läskig atmosfär hotfulla blickar, som maskeras med vänlighet, respekt emot den sjuka, så att man på alla sätt ska känna att man är sjuk!

fastän man inte har gjort något fel!, dess mindre fel man har dess sjukare tycker ni att man är!

nåväl man vet ju vad som händer, om man slår en ond ande med en kropp det var väl bättre då måste ni ju tycka om man slår dem när de inte är i en kropp!

'det finns inga onda andar markus du inbillar dig bara!"

"självförnekelse ledertill döden - döda andar är onda andar!

tvångsmedicingering är våldtäckt av värsta sort, en våldtäckt har ia lallaf fall något element av nnjutning i sig - se xär alltid skönt vad som är det stora hemska med våltäckt är den eftervarandde känslan av skam och skuld och förnedning, något främmande och icke välkommet, har tvingat in i ens kropp tvingas sig in men spermier är inte giftiga!

vad ni sysslar med är grtuppvåldtäckt!

fyra karlar håller ned den som rituellt ska våldtas och en femte kommer med något som är lika stort som en stor penis men som istället för att gå in i stjärnten sticks in under hyn!, det gör ont och då den främmande sperman sprutas in - är det inte fin frisk livfull sperma utan gift!, giftet gör ond, det gör att man har svårt att gå man kan inte längre tänka, inte tala korrekt utslag kommer på hyn, man har svårt att gå, maj kan inte längre tänka, inte tala korrekt, man får själv gift i sin spemra, dvs. erat gift

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