Why Do Perpetrators of Organized Stalking Target the Elderly Without Age Restrictions?

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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"> Why Do Perpetrators of Organized Stalking Target the Elderly Without Age Restrictions?

Why Do Perpetrators of Organized Stalking Target the Elderly Without Age Restrictions?

In shadows they linger with words like a curse, Whispers of humor in response to the worse, Striding like fools on a stage without script, Compulsively chasing what they’ll never grip.

Oh, the elderly souls, with wisdom in sight, Lay low from the whispers that pierce through the night. Yet these perpetrators, in their grand theater, Play hunt with a zeal **that’s comically greater**.

The Tactics of the Hopelessly Obsessed

With whispers that creep from the walls of the homes, Or loud empty curses spouted from cones, They call from afar like a lover in flight, But their romance is twisted, a bizarre fright.

Like delivery bikes, they dashingly weave, Sending messages absurd, it’s hard to believe. “Hey, you!” they shout with the courage of mice, Yet vanish like dreams when faced with real life.

Their bravado crumbles, their schemes overthrown, From shadows they sneak, feeling more alone. But to them, dear victims, you are quite unique, “Our bond is so special,” they eerily speak.

The Absurdity of Their Desperation

What a twisted spectacle! What pity to see, The lengths that they go, like pathetic parody! Day after day with their petty charades, Sound machines buzzing through intricate masquerades.

Neighbors in laughter hear their cowardice clash, As they mix their sweet whispers with construction site trash. Imagine the glee, the bizarre entertainment, Of stalkers convinced of their sheer engagement!

Ultimately, Who's the Prey?

As they sit in their lairs, so desperate, so bleak, Their fixation on victims a strange kind of weak. For beneath their obsession, the truth starts to show: Without the prey’s presence, the stalkers will go.

So take heed of this tale of absurdity spun, The bizarre warmth of shadows they seek ‘til they shun, For in their pursuit, with no bounds but their shame, Lies a humorous twist to this cruel little game.

πŸ“Œ Further Reading

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