Someone left the flat below at about that time and it’s been empty since. I didn’t bother to go check if my computer screens are working again now.

Btw, posting from this Android is now was briefly getting interfered with too. I was able to use it unhindered at Starbucks for a while, a place where I could work and feel safe, part of the world, feel normal AND… sometimes change passwords, unseen.

I bought that tablet without the locals having spotted it, took the train to elsewhere, paid cash for my train ticket, paid cash for the tablet. It was a steal, at 50% of its market value, just because it was used. I probably have the cost of living crisis to thank for that, because a lot of people here are desperate and all they do is whip up each other’s despair instead of help empower each other.

One day, I walked in and a young blond woman behind the counter greeted me with a shocking level of hate, sort of the same ice cold hate that that guy called Ashley greeted me with last week, at Cash Converters, no idea why. Okay, worse, probably.

The next time I visited that Starbucks, it got interfered with, this tablet. I was gutted. Too fucking crazy for words.

The tablet that I showed you, Ashley, on the other hand, was a decoy. I did sell it to someplace else and lost no money on it.

(I simply got fed up with the bizarre nonsense of needing a decoy tablet in this fucked-up crazy town, Ashley. Have you ever traveled off Portsea Island, dude? Do you know what the world is like outside of this little island enclave off the coast of England? Or course not. You live in a tiny bubble in which any female manager is only the manager in name, for the stats, but has zero power.)

But let’s be fair, these folks – like this Ashley dude – somehow have been gaslighted about me. There’s just no way that complete strangers can hate a person they know nothing about that fiercely completely out of the blue.

(No wonder I have hated Portsmouth so much. No wonder people here thought that I was the crazy one.)

Same thing probably happened when I volunteered at the Covid vaccination effort late in 2021. Why did so many people there think that I was (basically) senile even though none of them knew me? Makes no sense.

I’d seen that John guy before. On his bike. Maybe half a year earlier.

Twice. I noticed him because the first time he saw me, he smiled at me as if he knew me. Or at least knew who I was. Recognized me. The next time he saw me, he ignored me. Maybe he simply hadn’t seen me, that second time. Both times, I had been on my way to Asda.

Don’t know exactly when that was, but it was after I had posted a video about local politics or written about it. Back then, I figured that that is why he thought he knew me and smiled at me.

You know, when someone gets deliberately isolated by some evil person out there, you start noticing certain things much more. Because you have so few interactions. You notice and remember things you would not have paid any attention to whatsoever in a normal context.

Why couldn’t I get anyone to let me volunteer in 2020 and why couldn’t I get access to any of the local Covid Facebook groups back then, only a tiny one for some small village elsewhere? Why couldn’t I reach almost anyone else around here back then?

Everyone around here always whines about how they don’t have enough of this kind of staff or that kind of staff or that kind of services or this kind, but when you think that you can do something about it and make yourself useful, it almost always turns out to be no more than the usual whining that has become part of people’s identity around here. There is no actual need. It’s just whining. It’s just stuff to fill up Facebook and newspaper space with.

For nearly 15 years, I’ve had little more than horrible abuse in this town. It makes no sense. I knew nobody here and nobody here knew me. Where did all that bizarre hate come from? It just makes no sense. None whatsoever.

No matter where I went in this town, no matter what I did. It always reared its ugly head. Even though I wasn’t always aware of it at first, such as at that community leadership course in 2010.

Who had been gaslighting all these people about me? Because that is what must have happened.

Who exactly in this town is that unstable and evil one? That’s for them to figure out. Me, I couldn’t care less.

Because the gaslighting still has exposed this town’s soul to me, hasn’t it. The level of hate I’ve encountered here is beyond belief, after all.

Most people here show no reticence at all when they target someone who they’ve been made to believe is going senile or is learning-disabled or has some other kind of circumstance going on that they think makes it unlikely that the person will fight back.

That’s despicable, Portsmouth, gaslighting or no gaslighting.

Meanwhile, I continue to get lots of emails for how to pay less to unleash my secret genius if only I sign up quickly. Last-minute deals. I don’t need no unleashing of my secret genius. I just want my life back. That’s genius enough for me, thank you very much.

Am getting trolled by lykosss kakudate2k.

About… stalking.

Have told him to go jerk off.

Had to flip the power switch on the wall again. Computer froze.

Am starting to get a little tense again now. It takes up about 10 minutes each time, so it’s not that easy to ignore and I was actually trying to concentrate on a few things.

This is when I will often do something distracting next, such as watch a funny YouTube short, which is like a mini vacation to reset my state of mind or I do something else to relax. Just realizing that I am getting tense helps too.

If it happens a lot, though, I may have to stop what I was doing, for the day, because it’s a little like driving a car and the car displaying a mind of its own and insisting on hitting the curb or insisting on suddenly swerving to the left or right. If it were a car, you’d want to park it too, right?

Computer increasingly sluggish, froze, had to flip the wall socket’s switch.

Not doing anything in particular.

By contrast, edited a few videos yesterday without problems and had a shit load of browser tabs open without problems.

It suddenly reminds me of young Chris Packham’s determination to own a kestrel.

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Computer suddenly froze again. Had to flip wall socket switch again.

Computer suddenly froze, for no discernible reason. Had to flip the wall socket switch.

Messing with my internet access.

The left arrow jumping to the end of the paragraph again. Question: Is this only the case on the home page?

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There have been many themes in my abuse and one of them seems to have been about a watch. It’s included all sorts of people (well, one sort, mostly) in town constantly asking me for the time. That stopped at some point, but if anyone can tell me what that was about, then please tell me. Thank you.

Is it a warning?

“Watch out!” or “Watch it” or “I’m watching you.” ?

There’ve often been threats over the years and they were always veiled but also almost always followed up on and pretty vicious. I’m thinking of the animal cruelty, specifically.

Someone just entered the flat below. No talking. It’s been quiet all evening. (Besides the earlier quick in and out.)

08:46: Still in the flat, I think, though I can’t be sure. If so, one person. (I heard a clunk sound though it could perhaps be coming from the ground-floor flat.)

I got to sleep.

Continue reading →

The IP addresses I get (presumably on the network that I am forced onto) are ALWAYS blocked – banned – on Wikipedia. Those are usually located in places like Glasgow or Devon or Manchester or Edinburgh. Also, London, but that is not too strange.

I can only edit a page, carry out even the smallest change such as correct a typo, on Wikipedia if I log in with my Wikipedia account.

Someone came up the stairs, went into the flat and left again almost instantly. I suspect that all he did was close the kitchen window. The windows in the flat below are often wide open, in any kind of weather, and there was a lot of rain this evening.

I am a Dutch citizen who has been the target of relentless anonymous and sometimes not so anonymous abuse since I moved from Southampton to Portsmouth. This has included physical attacks, a slogan on the wall, hacking, vandalism as well as lock-picking at two addresses in Portsmouth and animal cruelty. I used to report most of this, but that only made matters worse.

I have made four escape attempts from my abuse situation in recent years.

On my first attempt, I was intercepted by a police officer called Nikki. She took me back to my flat. As I have not been able (allowed) to support myself since I moved to Portsmouth, I had zero money and she found me walking along a highway near Portsmouth, with two suitcases.

I am a scientist. In 2019, after I came home to another incidence of vandalism inside my flat, a professor in the Netherlands contacted Gerald Vernon-Jackson on my behalf. I met with Vernon-Jackson who merely shrugged so nothing has changed.

I am currently being targeted from the flat under mine again (which currently has four or five different tenants). This has happened before over the years, but I have also witnessed before that someone else went into that flat when the tenant was not at home, so it is quite possible that someone else is going into the flat when nobody is home. For the record, I have also noticed a few ongoings that may indicate that there is drugs trafficking going on and that a pregnant woman is being used as a “front” of innocence. She gets shouted at a lot at times and something is certainly not right.

I just told them that if they kept harassing me, they were going to learn, and also not to dismiss me and terrorise me. That was followed by them targeting me again.

They seemed dirt-poor so I previously bought a doormat for them as the doormat that was there had disappeared. Because they and their visitors were constantly ringing the doorbells, I also had an extra set of keys made for them, but the ringing of the doorbells only stopped for a week or so. I thought that they were dirt-poor but I no longer believe that. There is something weird going on. They also seem to be targeting me particularly when the groundfloor neighbors are out. A coincidence?

This morning, I contacted a number of professional connections all over the world and asked them to start whipping up noise for me. I have been terrorised and far too many aspects of my life in Portsmouth sadistically controlled for nearly 15 years. I want my life back.

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Added only here:

For the record, when I witnessed that someone else went into the flat, the tenant in question was not aware of that. (I mentioned it to him later; his name was Fancey.) He had just left; I was doing the dishes, saw him walk to his car and drive away. This was Easter Monday. (I think it was 2016, at around 1pm.) Shortly after, the doorbell rang and someone let himself or herself into the flat.

Previous tenants on the groundfloor were burgled shortly after they moved in, apparently by someone who picked the locks or who let themselves in with a key. Those tenants moved out the same day. The present tenants moved in next.

I have witnessed drug sales taking place outside, although this may have become less frequent in recent years. My curiosity was simply triggered by strange behaviors of people and cars so I ended up watching what exactly was going on. I have also seen people shoot up outside.

There has been drugs trafficking in the other building at this address; the people in that flat also harassed one of the other tenants (Croucher). Police intervened at some point.

There have been similar problems with tenants on the ground floor there (in the other building), but that seems to have stopped after a while. Loads of different people walking in and out and some harassment. I don’t know if there was drugs trafficking going on in that situation too. (I did report something to the council but they said that it was a matter for the police.)

The police, a we all know are worse than utterly useless, but what else can I do other than once again contact the police?

We have an equally useless landlord who could not care less and whose offices moved to a different location without telling us. It has no doorbell and no option for leaving postal mail.

The current folks in the flat under me may be Albanian. I have read that a lot of Albanian people are in terribly abusive situations here in the UK.

I am now starting to suspect that their abuse is not linked to the usual vile shit here in Portsmouth but is intended to protect themselves (in view of criminal activities, why else) and intimidate me.

I don’t know if the folks in the flat under me are aware of this website. (Next day: no, they are not. Something the woman said to me yesterday.)

They said that they were going to call the police about me and a guy who I had never seen before until today turned out to be standing behind the door to record me. (Different young guys, in different but similar-looking small grey and silver cars.) Except, there was nothing to call the police about. They opened the door when I came up the stairs. They attacked me verbally, but it first sounded as if she was going to apologize to me.

(The previous tenant used to do shit like that too – and other shit – because he thought that I was afraid of his dog.)

17:20: Have also now contacted a charity that helps Albanians in trouble.

20:42: They must be so pissed off that I installed an alarm on the front door because their visitors were constantly leaving it open. The alarm going off was getting them noticed by the motorcycle shop folks, I bet, the fact that there are different young guys walking in and out. That may be why they ramped up their crap against me? They now keep switching the alarm off. It’s not the folks on the ground-floor who are doing it.

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When I was living in Amsterdam, there was drugs activity right next to me. I had no idea. I was clueless. Even though neighbors had told me that there had been drugs activity before (which is why they barged into my attic one day, when I was looking after a rescued stray cat who was still much too feral at that point and they’d clearly become suspicious), when the cops showed up, I still was clueless. I said something to one of the cops and he realized how clueless I was, gave me an indulgent (I suppose) smile but said nothing. It did not match what I had said.

There too, there were lots of comings and goings, but we didn’t have a wooden staircase (very common in England). That young woman, too, had been pregnant, apparently. That young woman too rang my doorbell once, claiming to have lost or forgotten her keys and I got a weird vibe at the time, that I couldn’t place. She said that she’d been to the hospital, had had a miscarriage. Perhaps. But knowing what I know now, had she been beaten or something, perhaps? She wore a kind of robe that had some blood on it. We called the fire brigade who helped her onto her balcony, wearing my old teal-green Cool Cat jogging pants, which she never returned. I laundered the robe, and left it at her door, but she then hung it on my door handle.

Is this similar to what is going on in the flat below? The vibe I get from the woman is similar. Hard to say why. Hard to describe, too. Aggressive? Defiant? Pliable and merely doing as told? She comes across as a puppet, somehow. I can’t put my finger on it what exactly it is, but the different young men and the different but similar cars and the shouting, the comings and goings without a pattern… it does not seem normal.

But it’s hard to tell.

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I took the doormat away, by the way. Instead of confronting these young folks about various issues, I had decided to support them quietly, that is, in a way that made things easier for me as it would remedy the issues that way. Portsmouth is often like a war zone and it becomes exhausting and is also at times quite scary always having to confront people here. The fact that they are now harassing me more sort of caused the doormat to mock me every time I walked past it. Childish, yes.

In the meantime, they’ve purchased a vacuum cleaner anyway so there is no longer all the debris in front of their door anyway. That is why I got the doormat: to catch that debris. It looked like plant matter, by the way. Dried plant matter.

And I am getting fucked with again by my hacker(s).