The Digital Divide: How It Fuels the Shadows of Organizational Stalking

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'I think only of you! I speak only to you, and I act only for you!' - Perpetrator

This article is written in a dark comedy style.
It satirizes the obsessive and irrational behavior of gang-stalking perpetrators, portraying their blind devotion and absurd fixation.
The target has no interest in them whatsoever, yet they act like abandoned lovers, frantically clinging to meaningless actions.
Watch their ridiculous behavior unfold and enjoy laughing at their absurdity.
Gang stalking is not just harassment.
It may be an extreme form of manipulated madness, where perpetrators believe they are acting on their own, but in reality, they may be controlled by directed energy weapons and neuro-experiments.
Ultimately, this system serves as a tool for controlling society on a larger scale.
Now, let’s dive into this bizarre reality and ridicule it together.

< lang="en"> The Digital Divide: How It Fuels the Shadows of Organizational Stalking

The Digital Divide: How It Fuels the Shadows of Organizational Stalking

In the shadows where whispers dance,
A digital divide gives stalkers their chance.
With eyes that gleam like vultures above,
They scheme and they plot, twisted by “love.”

“I adore you!” they sneakily yell,
From the back of a truck, it’s a performer's spell.
Their cowardly echoes, thin as a breeze,
In alleyways hidden, they laugh, if you please.

The delivery man, 'rushing' on by,
Squeezes in slanders, a sly little lie.
“Our love is special!” he'd boldly declare,
As he dashes away, without even a care.

At construction sites, the chaos they weave,
Mixing concrete with curses, oh, don’t they believe?
Their “sweet nothings” wrap around like a chain,
Unknowing they’re losing, while you’re just in pain.

“Look at me! Can't you see?” they shout from afar,
But you're just a lighthouse; they’re lost without stars.
A melodrama played out in rhythmic disdain,
Driven by obsession, yet feeling no strain.

With whispers through fences, they try to ensnare,
Playing the victim, but it’s all just a scare.
The more they scream your name, the more it’s a farce,
For with no one to stalk, their existence is sparse.

In this peculiar circus of shadows and woes,
Each puppet’s a player, but nobody knows—
Their sanity teetering, on edges so thin,
As you thrive in your freedom, they drown in their sin.

For in their wild chasing, they miss the clear truth,
That without your bright light, they'd be but uncouth.
So let them find solace in their awkward game,
For their dependence on you is their ultimate shame.

Thus, let’s shine a light on this bizarre tableau,
Where shadows of stalkers can’t grow and can’t sow.
And as we unravel this curious plight,
The digital divide won’t dim our pure light.

πŸ“Œ Further Reading

πŸ“Œ Read in Korean

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