Tuesday, 23 May 2017

My Life in Documents: Aha Moment







I accidentally found out what happened with my entire life in documents in that 2004. Marginals, if left alone, will probably always adopt the same strategy, since, as they say in Rio, you do not change a team that is winning. When this all started, in my best belief, what I had next door to me at Charnwood Road was a carioca black woman with Eva Stenzdur's husband. When I come back and I am staying at the backpackers after a short stay at Bradley's apartment, my joint apartment with him, the Asians get the key for my room for 24 hours, see my room, and claim not to like it. In that backpackers, at that height, we are given a choice: We may return the electronic key immediately to staff or keep it for longer. If we are already staying at the backpackers in another room, we tend not to return the key early, so that we could return it next day or even the day after that. It deactivates in 24 hours. The difference between my key and theirs would be that mine has a bunk bed assigned to it, since I am already staying in the room. Theirs, the visitor's key, would not have a bunk bed assigned to it. Yet, the native old white Australian man who went to take a reading from the door said no other card was ever used in that door apart from mine. I did ask this sort of question to him: Perhaps the visitor's key does not mark the door? According to him it would. I tried to get technical information about the key and its electronic system for a long time. Nobody would give. Nobody. I tried e-mails, web forms, and calling. Nobody would give me that information, very unfortunately. Information is really something that they don't seem to give to people with accents, very unfortunately. I am on the belief that cleaning and management staff would use jokers, cards that won't mark the electronic system, so that if they ever go inside of our rooms, the system would not detect. In this case, because the guy operating the cameras that controlled the place seemed to be the European guy downstairs, working very close to the manager, I think there was a cleaner from Brazil inside of the premises and she went and quickly subtracted my entire life in documents from my bedroom. I was always locking my folder in the locker that was inside of my room, but, that day, I had just been praying at the church and the AUPOST would be closing some fifteen minutes from when I arrived there, so that I thought I had to rush to still get it open, and nobody was officially staying at the room apart from me. The Asians had been attacking me since 2001, and they had the key for 24 hours. The guy who reads the door said nobody would have gotten in the room apart from me according to his reading. In this case, staff stole, I reckon, even though probabilities would be with the Asians. Quick at theft is definitely black people from Rio. I then think it was a black woman from Rio who did cleaning there. The folder remained lost for about six years and it was returned to me through the Brazilian consulate. The Brazilian consulate attached a note to my folder. The note came from the Scotts church and there they said that they found my folder inside of their church. First of all, if they had found it inside of the church back then, 2004, why would they not have done the same thing they did six years later immediately? That was my entire life in documents. Besides, there were documents from RMIT and VUT inside of it. RMIT is next door to them. The Brazilian consulate isn't. As a second point, the cop who investigated all, and I do think that was the same James to whom Natalia reported the worst atrocities I endure in 2017, and it was definitely a relatively young native white man, said he could see nothing in the edited movie. The manager had already told me that if I were to watch her movie, it would be an edited version, that she would never show me the original movie. That the cop saw what I would be seeing is the weird part. Edited version? That is Melbourne, perhaps Australia, is it not? Well, from what I saw there, who would have then edited the movie would be the European guy. The cop claims that in the edited version I arrive there without my folder. I just realized that all they did was showing the image from when I come back from the post. The times would be pretty close to each other because, as I said, I only had fifteen minutes to go and come back or even less than that, since I still went upstairs to drop the folder (very unfortunately). The European guy was with the Brazilian woman next door to me in 2001, in my humblest, and the Brazilian woman was again with the European guy at the backpackers, that is now my best theory. Not to care about my lifetime in documents looks like something only someone like a carioca, in special women, could be doing. I think therefore that all the evidence points at a Brazilian cleaner. I speak to Bradley immediately and he talks about checking the bins in the city himself. I found that very odd. He insisted with that line of reasoning. I then think I am sure that once more he knew very well who stole all. Because of that, he created the fantasy involving the church and the bins. Plus, bins do connect to cleaners and cleaning, so that that was perhaps even a hint. I obviously would have no recollection about exact dates and I obviously would not be able to care about things to that level. The date of the note signed by the church would probably be a posterior date. Notwithstanding, it is possible that another cleaner, since, contrary to God's instructions, I don't believe the own pastor/priest cleans the church, Scott's church or something like that, another Brazilian woman, say, organized the confusion. Perhaps again a black person, perhaps they are always from Rio. I don't really see why anyone would return the documents through the consulate instead of RMIT or VUT or some other institution from inside of my folder. The consulate implies posting items, what is always unsafe. The only hypothesis in which that would be the chosen path of action would be Bradley controlling the story or the own Brazilians doing it in my humblest. I believe my perfect existence has been entirely ruined by Bradley, and there is nothing that I suffer in terms of abuse, crime, injustice, and violence, that is not rooted in him since 2001. Once more, I never kept contact with any Brazilian. Not even my mother knew my physical address or landline number in Australia. Not even her. Bradley forwarded a text message to me when it was about 2005. That would have come from Lea Ricci Pinheiro. That would have gone straight to his mobile. I never gave his number to anyone from Brazil and I never would do that. I never gave not even his name. I at most said Bradley, never his surname, precisely so that they could never get to him. Bradley, different from me, does not expose his mobile number online that far. The only way they could have his number is he himself giving. I was therefore a victim of an extraordinary plot involving Bradley and my relatives. Joao Carlos Ricci Terra, as he told me via phone in 2002, came to Australia to speak to Bradley, not to me. They then plotted against my life, basic rights, and all else together, that is what I think I am sure about. I have been denouncing Joao Carlos since 2001 in Australia and since at most 2005 all over the world. Nothing. FBI completely ignores that even though they have helped me even with the Internet. I hate my relatives, and hate even more whomever isn't one and is from Brazil. I avoid them at any expense. This even living in Brazil. A few of my relatives had already killed for money of other relatives. I call omission of help and induction to suicide homicide though, and that is what I mean when I say they killed. I have horror of them, horror. Who made the connection between me, their eternal victim, and them was obviously Bradley and his gang. There is no police in general and I denounce the own Bradley since 2001. The reason for me to be with him in the same apartment in 2002 was no police, attempt to have an agreement with the marginal to at least get the third PhD in record time, that title, and my academic position at that height. Later on, and before I go to Adelaide, circa 2010, the Brazilian men from Rio would appear at my face with Asian women (couple). When I am at Unilodge, the Brazilian women, those who look like Carla (black and carioca) appeared with the Asian men (couple). When I was in BRB, way before that, we had several fire incidents in the backpackers there. In each one of those I had been warned by the English guy who was a couple with a Brazilian woman with looks of Carla that they would be putting fire in the establishment. The third time they made it explicit that the target was me and they would be locking my door from outside. I always reported to whomever I could that that was the case. On one of them, a guy with a gun looking like Andrew appeared close to me. He had a gun in his bag, and his bag was hippie's like. I thought he was there to shoot me. I escaped. On another fire, Irishmen were waiting for me outside the fire exit, apparently to at least kidnap me. I heard their voices, I was more lonely that time in the stairs, and I was already very worried. I then called security from the place through police. They conversed with me. I was traumatized and stuck in the stairs. I once more let them know about the English and the Brazilian woman. It then looks like Carla The Vaca made it a life purpose: Brazilian prostitutes would take over the First World. I now believe that was their mission, the mission the Australian native white gay guy talked about in 2005. It is all very unfortunate. I won't lie and say I hate marginal, since I grew up amongst them, I have contact with them since I am nine years old at most. I simply avoid them at any expense and would like them to never be where I am. It was all Bradley. I did the impossible to escape Carla, Mario, and the rest of the gang my relatives sent to Australia. It was all Bradley, who is promiscuous, unruled, and marginal his entire life, son of marginal (convicted pedophile). I never saw me having a choice in any of it. There is simply no police. No police. No police. For James, or whatever his name might have been, to watch an edited version and think that was enough... . And I did insist with him that it would be OK if I watched an edited version, but not him. He would have missed the detail that I had to get in twice, not once, or they repeated the same images twice and he did not notice that the time, for instance, was the same. They are absolutely unacceptable. Once more, as I told Trevor in 2001, Australia has a HR problem and the worst problem we have, world wide, it seems to me, is selection of personnel. We really had to put more effort into selecting people according to their morality and vocation. Nothing else matters, to be sincere. And, as for the folder, it is obviously worthless asking the Brazilian diplomacy about anything: A Country that lets its people attack me internationally and gratuitously with the worst world atrocities, with its congress practically seeing themselves all I go through through the eyes of the witnesses since 2005, yet signs for human rights, is democracy, etc. is unrespectable. It is obviously made for marginals and ruled by them. You don't ask them anything, since nothing can be believed, quite sincerely. If possible, you go to the source and get your information, so say to confirm I studied at CSTJ you call them. Missing nothing, realistically. The Brazilian embassy would not send me the ballot for me to vote from here in 2001. They never ever do what they should and they still do precisely the opposite. I believe for long the ambassador who was not an ambassador, the female I had on phone in 2001 with me, was put there already to cover up for the crimes of Rogerio de Oliveira, Lea Ricci Pinheiro, and other Brazilian crooks against me. Unrespectable (let's please accept irrespectable, anything and everything that may make sense). It had to be precisely my precious and perfect person. It had to be possible. 


They may say whatever they like, but it was my life, my body, my career in this game, not anyone else's. Not even for a second did I want or accept any association with any Brazilian for any purpose, especially carioca. Nothing will come back to me. They may say I don't have group spirit. I say the same about them and I will still die saying that who does not have group spirit is that who does not accept our no and goes for crime, especially atrocity. You cannot force any adult to anything. That is the law. Not even one second, who would say more than 16 years? How many lives did I have? How many identical bodies? How many times can I go back to 2001 and be in the same exact situation again? How many mothers of the age and configuration they had in 2001? How many Marcias that match my ID? Can only be a joke. Anyway, this looks like a take over by the prostitutes from South America and that is why Kardashian: Something that looks like them. Missing nothing. 


As another point, the folder may even have turned up on the same day at the church. I had been around there. Whoever is stalking or observing me would know that. They simply carry the folder to the church soon after they steal it from me, for instance. They may still clean it when it is closed and then put the folder there after hours. I never see people cleaning the churches here, in Melbourne, so that it is likely that they do that when the church is closed. 





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PRAY WITH FAITH AND HELP THE EMPIRE TODAY





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