When Shadows Conspire: Exiling Perpetrators from Workplace and School to Protect Tomorrow's Innocents

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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"> When Shadows Conspire: Exiling Perpetrators from Workplace and School to Protect Tomorrow's Innocents

When Shadows Conspire

Exiling Perpetrators from Workplace and School

In corridors where echoes turn to whispers,

You'll find the jester, in shadows, a schemer,

With silken words and a cowardly grin,

Playing a game they can never win.

The Peculiar Dance of Obsession

They linger around, like phantoms that sing,

Whispering sweet nothings, these sad little things,

“Our bond is unique,” they chirp from afar,

Like lovesick puppets, lost in a bizarre.

Out in the Open, Yet Hiding So Well

Oh, the delivery man with his gossiping spree,

Riding through silence, so boastfully free,

While hoisting a package, his heart full of rage,

What a pitiful jester, trapped in this stage.

The Laughter of Innocence

Across the street, from their hollow cocoon,

They shout and they taunt, like a child with a loon,

In whispers so feeble, from far and from near,

They think they are grand, but it's just a veneer.

Parade of the Pitiable

And lo! The construction noise drowns out the shame,

As they hide in the rustle, a mockery game,

A chorus of cowardice wrapped in a jest,

Each mocking refrain of a deluded quest.

Desperate Songs of the Desperate

Can you see them? The ones hoping you'll care,

In their minds, perfection—is that really so rare?

Each hollow interaction, a loop to replay,

In their love for despair, do they think they’ll sway?

The Truth in Their Own Debacle

Yet how easy is it to shatter the glass,

Of a pattern so warped, none dare to amass?

For without victims, what purpose to serve?

Their plight is a riddle, on the edge of a curve.

Final Curtain on a Ridiculous Show

So exiled must they be, from schools and from work,

Lest the shadows conspire, and more innocents lurk,

For when the curtain falls, and laughter fades out,

It's their fragile existence that shouts for a clout.

Conclusion

Let’s strip away their power, this absurd little game,

For those who conspire, in shadows, bring shame,

With their twisted affection, and an obsession so tight,

We see through the darkness, they rely on our light.

πŸ“Œ Further Reading

πŸ“Œ Read in Korean

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