form & content productions

 In the heart of the labyrinth, where reflections // getting play[aha!-’d,]

Çiğdem Boru wandered, lost in dismay.

Each mirrored wall became a silent scream,

Echoing in fragments of a shattered dream.

Her sorrow, a shadow, danced in the light,

A ghostly figure in the endless night.

Eyes met eyes in a thousand popup window panes,

Each one whispering to a voyeur, cossetting their forgotten pains.

In the Mirror Cube, time stood still,

A prison of glazed distortions, a test of will.

She sought an exit, a path to the sky,

But every turn brought a mirrored lie.

Yet in the depths of her despair,

Some spark inside ignited, a gasp’t breath for air.

She saw herself one time all fractured, not whole,

A revelation that touched her soul.

The mirrors, once cruel, exposed her grace, unless

A warrior's heart belied a gentle face.

Her sorrow transformed a River Phoenix risen here,

laid out cold in the heat,

In the Mirror Cube, she found her adulterous prize in hubris.

No longer trapped by the maze,

Çiğdem Boru emerged, her livid ablaze.

With unfound strength, she railed at the dawn,

Her stringent illusionism gone, her revelation drawn asunder.

In the heart of the labyrinth, where reflections gleam,

Not just Six souls ventured into a mirrored dream.

Calum Grey, with his camera in hand,

Captured the echoes of a shifting land.

Mrs. Anderson, the X files disinformationist

Tastiest sexiest rental artiste of lore, seeking a mature role, to expand the zeitgeist…

Who guided them through the reflective door?

Her eyes held secrets, her voice in singing,

In the Mirror Cube, they all belonged to the destroyer.

Allira Cornell, with a heart so bright,

Saw past and future in the mirrored light.

Her dreams and fears, a tangled thread,

In the Cube's embrace, she faced them head.

Çiğdem Boru, with a warrior's grace,

Saw her soul in the mirrored space.

Her sorrow and strength, a phoenix's rise,

In the Cube, she found her prize.

Leah Motherway, with a poet's heart,

Felt the Cube's reflections tear her apart.

Each mirrored wall, a verse untold,

In the Cube, her story unfold.

Omar Boom, with his flamboyant flair,

Saw his true self in the mirrored glare.

His fears and desires, laid bare to see,

In the Cube, he found his key.

Together they stood, in the heart of the maze,

Their reflections dancing in a mirrored haze.

King Charles and the Unfolding Plot

In the grand hall of ancient stone,

King Charles sat upon his throne.

With regal grace and eyes so keen,

He watched the plot, a hidden scene.

The courtiers whispered, shadows danced,

In the flickering light, the intrigue enhanced.

Plots and schemes, a tangled web,

In the kingdom's heart, secrets ebbed.

With a furrowed brow and a thoughtful gaze,

He saw through the court's deceptive haze.

Loyalty and treachery, side by side,

In the palace walls, where truths reside.

The whispers grew, the tension high,

Under the watchful monarch's eye.

He knew the game, the stakes so grand,

The fate of the realm in his steady hand.

Allies and foes, their masks unveiled,

In the silent court, where whispers trailed.

King Charles, with wisdom and might,

Prepared to face the coming night.

For in the shadows, truth would gleam,

A beacon bright, a royal dream.

With courage and a heart so bold,

King Charles watched the plot unfold.

1.

Nobility: High-ranking nobles often served as advisors to the monarch, providing counsel on political and military matters. They held significant influence and power within the court.

2.

Household Staff: This group included a wide range of positions such as chamberlains, stewards, and butlers, who managed the day-to-day operations of the royal household. They ensured that the court ran smoothly and efficiently.

3.

Clergy: Religious figures, such as chaplains and bishops, played a vital role in the court, offering spiritual guidance and conducting religious ceremonies. They often held considerable sway over the monarch and the court's decisions.

4.

Military Personnel: Knights and soldiers were responsible for the protection of the monarch and the court. They also played a role in planning and executing military campaigns.

5.

Emissaries and Diplomats: These individuals represented foreign kingdoms and were responsible for maintaining diplomatic relations. They negotiated treaties, alliances, and other agreements on behalf of their respective rulers.

6.

Artists and Entertainers: Musicians, poets, painters, and other artists provided entertainment and cultural enrichment. Their work often reflected the grandeur and sophistication of the court.

7.

Merchants and Financiers: Wealthy merchants and financiers played a role in the economic aspects of the court, providing funds and resources for various royal projects and endeavors.

8.

Bodyguards: Elite guards were tasked with ensuring the safety of the monarch and other high-ranking members of the court. They were highly trained and loyal to the crown.

9.

Court Appointees: These were individuals appointed to specific roles within the court, such as the Master of the Horse or the Keeper of the Wardrobe. Each had specialized duties that contributed to the overall functioning of the courthttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_courthttps://yourwiseadvices.com/what-are-the-roles-in-a-royal-court/.

The court was a microcosm of the kingdom, reflecting its hierarchy, culture, and politics. Each courtier, regardless of their role, played a part in maintaining the prestige and power of the monarchy.

Heathrow's bustling, endless stream,
A prize - a diorama caught the gleam,

Of Cigdem Boru's curious eye,
And Omar Boom, standing by.

The Heathrow Boots store, a mundane sight,
Transformed by their sexuality, the light of the obscene.

Documentarists with lens so keen,\
Captured moments, unseen, serene.

Cigdem's voice, a guiding thread,
Through aisles of products, neatly spread.

Omar's camera, sharp and true,
Framed the stories, old and new.

Passengers paused, in hurried flight,
To witness art in mundane light.

A diorama, small yet grand,
Showed tales of journeys, close at hand.

In the heart of Heathrow's space,
They found a story, time and place.

With every click and every word,
\A silent symphony was heard.

So in the Boots at Heathrow's core,\
A diorama became much more.

Through Cigdem and Omar's view,
A world of wonder, fresh and new.”

In a world of shadows and light,
Omar Boom wields his camera tight.
With a click, a flash, a moment caught,
He shapes the world, frames every thought.

Through his lens, stories unfold,
Tales of the young, the brave, the old.
A smile, a tear, a fleeting glance,
Captured forever in a single chance.

The power of the camera, so profound,
In Omar's hands, it knows no bound.
It can twist the truth, expose, expand the lies,
Show the world through different eyes.

A hero, a manipulative villain, a scene so grand,
All controlled by Omar's hand.

With every shot, he crafts the tale,
A silent voice that will prevail.

In the stillness of a photograph,
Lies the power to make us laugh,

To make us cry, to make us see,
The hidden truths, the mysteries of concealment and manipulation.

The voyeur’s dreamworld, the twisted scenery.
Omar Boom, with his camera's mighty focus,

Turns day to days, and night to nightlife.
He captures life in all its hues,

And shows the world countless thousand views.

Verse 1:

In the grand old House of Lords, where such nobles sit so high,

Whispers echo through the halls, beneath the gilded skynet legacy.

A secret's been uncovered, a tale of shadowed might,

Of blackmail and deception, technological supremacy, a window into everybody… a network of camera systems, not even hidden from the light.

Chorus:

Oh, the House of Lords, where power plays its game,

In the shadows, whispers call, and nothing stays the same.

With secrets in the corners, and deals behind closed doors,

The House of Lords, oh, the House of Lords.

Verse 2:

A letter slipped through fingers, with threats so dark and bold,

A lord with trembling hands, his secrets bought and sold.

The blackmailer's demands, a price too high to pay,

In the House of Lords, where shadows lead the way.

Chorus:

Oh, the House of Lords, where power plays its game,

In the shadows, whispers call, and nothing stays the same.

With secrets in the corners, and deals behind closed doors,

The House of Lords, oh, the House of Lords.

Bridge:

But truth will find its way, through the corridors of might,

And justice will prevail, in the breaking of the night.

For even in the darkness, a light will always shine,

In the House of Lords, where honor will align.

Chorus:

Oh, the House of Lords, where power plays its game,

In the shadows, whispers call, and nothing stays the same.

With secrets in the corners, and deals behind closed doors,

The House of Lords, oh, the House of Lords.

Outro:

So let the tale be told, of the lords and their plight,

Of blackmail and redemption, in the pale moonlight.

For in the House of Lords, where history unfolds,

The truth will stand eternal, and justice will be bold.

Title: The Timekeeper's Dilemma

In the quiet town of Everwood, nestled between rolling hills and ancient forests, lived a young inventor named L.

L was known for his curious mind and his knack for creating extraordinary gadgets. But his most ambitious project was a time machine, a device he had been working on for years in his cluttered attic.

One stormy night, as lightning illuminated the sky, L finally completed his time machine. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he decided to test it. He set the dials to the year 1885, the time when his great-great-grandfather, Arthur, had lived. With a deep breath, L stepped into the machine’s immersion chamber, closed down the lid, and pressed the buttons to confirm the launch codes.

Awaking from inky blackness, In an instant, L found himself in a bustling Victorian street. The air was filled with the sounds of horse-drawn carriages and the chatter of people in elegant attire. He marveled at the sights and sounds, but his mission was clear: he wanted to meet Arthur and learn about his life.

L found Arthur working as a clockmaker in a small shop. Introducing himself as a distant relative, Leo quickly gained Arthur's trust. They spent days together, with Arthur teaching L the intricacies of clockmaking and sharing stories of his time.

However, L soon discovered a troubling secret. Arthur was being blackmailed by a rival clockmaker who had stolen one of his designs. The stress was taking a toll on Arthur, and L knew he had to help.

Using his knowledge of future technology, L devised a plan. He created a small, intricate device that could record conversations. One evening, he secretly placed it in the rival's office. The next day, L and Arthur confronted the rival with the recorded evidence. The blackmailer, caught red-handed, had no choice but to confess.

Hubris

In a concrete and mudbrick forest
terraced deep, where shadows play
inside the wedding cake buildings,
Çiğdem Boru wandered, led astray.

With eyes of fire and heart so bold,
She sought the secrets

legends foretold of these deeds long ago.

A wizard stood by an impossible pool, its current smoothly flowing uphill, above an ancient river, now buried underground.
His gaze turned as cold as the northern sea.

The siren song… he heard silent in the way she stood, saying “come with me… it’s time”.
"What’s that whisper I hear? The twinkling…
I seek the power to bend the stars,
To heal the world and mend its scars."

Her voice was firm, her spirit high this morning, frozen like porcelain -

I’m “seeing other people” she cried, in cold delight.

She twisted wizard’s goodwill into midnight.

And thus the wizard saw through her lie.

"Power you crave, not for the world,
But for the glory, your names are unfurled already.
Oh I know who set you up, and what this is for…"

He gently raised his hand, and in this essence, the winds of fate did howl,
The forest trembled. The lightning carves a scowl.

"Hubris blinds, it leads to fall,
The greatest pride precedes it all."

Yet Çiğdem when she walked from the door of the town hall

the stone circle, stolen,, PAlmed off. Miscredited. “used for ssssshhh!”

She stood, her will unbent,
Her heart a fortress, camouflaged, her mind intent.

"Oh what might you be able to teach me, wizard,
pray tell me if you dare,

For I will face you, anywhere."

The wizard smiled, a knowing in,

"Very well, let the trials begin, for this ordeal extends in all directions, of infinite dimensions… there is no end… no end to the deception. Can’t you feel it? I’m sorry.

Can’t you see what you’re doing? the “gaslighting?” gone wild? The abusive control, and filming?

The deliberate lies of ommission. The role play, control and humiliation. The isolation. The brutalisation of personal representation. The theft of “feathers in the cap”. The “mimicry and exclusion” system. The mobbing is old news, old news it is. Why so blind? What’s going [on], cigdem? What sort of role playing act is this, you’re playing?

You’ve played too hard, the game’s too clear. What’s such dilemma? How long must you spend on the mobile phone… to “get advice” from whom? My stalkers? They’ve got too much time to spend on making my life a misery, the numbers are not looking good… I don’t have time… "

Let me tell you what I know. Let me hold you by the heart, and look you in the soul.

For do you know what Omar was doing while my paternal relative and diorama teacher… died? With Regine, in the studio? Celebrating… the evilness. The “Cheeky humiliation of somebody who deserves every bit of punishment”.

Oh what would you know… about who is hiding, filming. Stalking. Hunting, while I’m set up, and Omar’s somewhere in the building. Stalking his “old friend and adversary, like the “ULTIMATE FRENEMY”, the sexual probingman. The pervy insertion man.

I’ve…

“got to go…. somewhere… ” she said, lying. And so she left, fists clenched, leaving the town hall. After witnessing the abuse, and feeling the reality.

She knew, and I knew that was the last time we’d see each other. It’s all a game to her, and it shows.

Çiğdem never looks back.
She remembers as she departs

Çiğdem always unbowed, her pride must be untamed,
Her journey's unmend, her spirit’s unclaimed remedy
- all but for what?

Oh but what for! the mean girls and the power play.

For in these features of forest, where shadows play,
She learned indeed that hubris tends to lead astray.

In a land where whispers weave through night,
Boru walked with steps so light.

A quest for power, a heart so grand,
Yet hubris held her guiding hand.

She met a wizard, not young, not wise and not so old,
A man gaslighted, wrapped in blackness, with secrets of the world untold embedded in his being. Fed a world of lies.

"Why seek you power, with such haste,
When hubris leads to bitter taste?"

"I seek to change the world," she cried,
"To avenge. Like surgery, with narcotic kisses.

to cut inside, to conceal, to alter, and devour truth.

to heal the wounds, to turn the tide."

But the wizard saw through her guise,
And spoke with truth, and not with lies.

"Power sought for selfish gain,
Will only lead to endless pain.
The fruits of hubris, bitter and cold,
Will leave you lost, with dreams unsolv’d a curse is dealt, a theft penalty is deserved, incurred through no element of triviality. I see you, I really do. What did they really do to you, oh earthquake warzone breakdown… and who did what. What was the cost to little girls? And those who knew which ones were loose, unattended…

."

Yet Boru, bold, would not relent,
Her will unbroken, her spirit bent.

"What would you know to be able to show me, w’/ar/-d,

don’t tell me, show me if you dare,
For I will face you, anywhere."

so many lengthy curses and transgressions savoured, inversions and bends of perspective. Laughing at the victim of imprisonment. The designed in inadequacy, the behind-the-back operation.

Know this of witchcraft, the unspoken, the concealment ritual, the procedural adulterant…

X:// ••••••••••••••••• / ••••• / ••• º
Z://B®@#

thoughts and minds racing, secrets video files and countless lies orbiting in cyberspace. The prudishness of the ground level, the hedonism of the elite. The unfettered madness of it.

Ordeals, exploits, broken promises, stolen dreams, sordid stories to shame people. The jet set sex rings, the bullying, blackmail, exposure and humiliation. The control and observation. The voyeuristic looting and trophy hunting. The stalkers’ concerted joy.

The obsession. The win. The “rape entitlement”. The “full submission”.

An infusement with horror and sadism pervades all things in this era of the hate machine. The over sensitive “you aren’t allowed” intolerance. The “no no no” conditionalities. The prison system pokes through every enforcement feature. The clink clink. The whip and chain business.

Covert filming, revenge porn, the degradation of commercial media and honesty of content. The virtual power. The clout of numbers. The clicks. The nuclear geiger image. The bakedown shakedown situations. The trashing and gossip circles. The serious targeted individuals and machiavellian gladio espionage circlews.

Various secret societies, illicit BDSM trials, the controlling whisper threaded through the night, in clues and “can’t look you in the eye” moments, those truths did unspoken silence break, a triplicate code of microexpressions revealed the hints of the real affair, and THIS IS NOT A GAME / THIS IS A GAME stickers with Ben Moore. The robbery of creative insights. The abusers’ “removal of the competitor”. The “mozart”. The “he’ll be like syd barrett… we’ll destroy his mental health”.

The game.. the game the game! I WIN. He’ll never know… he’s our VICTIM.

[THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][THE PRISONER][PWN.HIM]

But after a while… Boru's heart began to ache.
Through fire and storm, she fought with might,
Yet hubris
and the mirror
cube

She began to realise the truth, of the real story of the Diorama’s stolen future

And how the campaign of hubris grew, and how the devil in the system led her from the light. How the sociopath in her drove her to delight in the destruction of the just.

The video files, they won’t delete for nobody. The truth is writ. The fate is sealed. The end of days is here.

"to whom may assert the vision, to distort the meaning. To hide the stalking, the control.

Who speaks of the overt abuse and sadism from on high, where the drunkarts sex party cocaine fuelled paris hilton orgy of ivy league horrorshow politics. The “society scene”, and the “mediterranean yachts”.

Growing up in the treachery of Knighsbridge in the ‘80s no doubt gave Omar Boom some ideas. It grew beyond his wildest dreams.

Now… who can learn of the truth? The lies are the truth. The truth is the horror of the casualties. The control. The gaslighting. The culture of abuse, and humiliation of the poorer, the “devil take the hindmost”.

And as for why Regine was recruited to do what she did, so publicly? And to make it a game of “everybody knows but him”. A big isolating bubble of DELIBERATE EMASCULATION AND NAIVITE

concealment and control. A “the magus” manipulation.

Deprivation by occult process. MAss surveillance replaced mass media.

Whatr ® of “The truth”,

The “mirror cube” productions /// __ not just “plagiarism?” _ outright LOOTING.OF CREATIVITY. BULLY THEFT. MOBBING WIN. HUBRISTIC UPSTAGING> WE TAKE YOUR IDEAS AND MAKE YOU LIVE IN DEPRIVATION - BROADCAST TO THE PUBLIC IN DESIGNED IGNORANC E

LIKE STEALING YOUR FACE, OR YOUR CLOTHES.

LICKING THE DEW FROM YOUR WINDOWS.

FUCKING YOUR SISTER IN SECRET… FUCKING YOUR MOM IN THE TOILETS.

“so scandalous HEHEHEHEHE! powerfully.entitled./_prince OMAR STRIKES”

Caught him at the end of my road looking… that’s far too "hello mate, I’m intimate with your life, and I’m following you”. The crows told me he was hunting me, and gave me the panic signal.

Crows, do you really want to know about crows Cigdem? Perhaps visit the ravens at the tower and say hello to Da-vvvid, who sounds like a range rover being unlocked...

THE GRINCH THAT STOLE CHRISTMAS… STOLE THE “SWINGING ‘60s cybermedia futurism”. this is liberation for the few, and it’s not just wage slavery…

fuck that overprivileged “who does he think he is?” / WASPCIS-het / useless good for nothing / CPTSD / generational abuse victim /

_ d’you know… there’s faces on monuments that look worryingly similar to this geezer…

… he’s not just nice looking, he’s far too smart.

HOW DOES HE KNOW? / HE COULDN’T UNDERSTAND /
”COCK BLOCK / ROB BLIND / HUBRIS”

[wannabe>whiteboy.cracker/white people.ENVYBBC@bcoz.smalldick/colonial.decoloniseGETRIDOF THE ENGLISH / limp4WINSOME.RAPE.GAYSUBMISSIONFANTASY/MAKE MY WOMAN BY DECREE / STEAL A MAN’S MASCULINITY - GET “STRAIGHTER”. / WOMEN DO THAT TO THEIR MEN / TOO.

ESPECIALLY THE ‘ELITE’ /

any idea what the european “grand tour” really involved, or what the “safari party” really entails? […] LOVE FOR SALE / CUT PRICE POOR PEOPLE

BUNGA BUNKA PARTY / @ GEORGE BUSH CARIBBEAN CRUISE FOR THE MILITARY / CASINOSHIP

The chronic LONDON BOOTS @ HEATHROW broadcast by Regine and assorted “revenge porn humiliation ritual productions” led by Omar Boom and Calum Grey, this represents a grotesque theft of a large amount of material and production planning and ideas from the reality television “talent show” era - the intellectual property theft - deliberate abuse, bullying and humiliation by default - evidenced and celebrated as a campaign no less - represents a vicarious competitive victory - the trashing of a man - the lifting and twisting of the vision WIZARD developed about the potential for the live and interactive era of high definition video - the 35mm digital equivalent runway, and the potential for encryption and messaging rendering the possibility for encoding and reverse psychology by defaulting of obscenity charges, to illicit amusing situational comedy - basically “trolling”, or “winding people up”. The “hack”, or the “wildcat op” - the bandwidth and routing entails at the core the necessity for the “death of censorship”

The plans wizard developed in his teens for Judge death’s live video and smoke + mirrors backgrounds, and and a situational interactive theatre using mirror boxes and a “fixed camera rig in a licensed venue” scientific future where the full gamut of human behaviour including the complex and pervasive consideration of sexuality is not vilified, but respected, and explored for its inherent beauty and social connectedness. Particularly where aggression and various forms of competitive fighting and games are possible is the primary idea.

Sexuality, an instrument, or a camera… It’s beatific at best, but poisons your world at worst.

The sadistic component of what’s been going on is malevolent. We have a vision of sex as warfare, with consumer rights and litigation. Contracts at dawn, SMS “form letter” rejections.

Consider this. Every breath, every microscopic twitch… How it connects, how it binds. How it represents the truth. How it’s dangerous, and what delineates prostitution from fertility and cultivation. How to make it about love, not war. How to make it a day where nobody is dying… or headed more swiftly to the death of their dreams.

Maybe we will one day learn of the truth of what went on, and who did what to who. To understand the assault on probity. The decimation and horrible casualty of honesty.

The MEDIA MATRIX NETWORK OF THE POWER ELITE.

the INTERNET SECURITY FALSEHOOD.

THE POWER GAME. THE BANKING SYNDICATES

THE GUMSHOE ESPIONAGE AND CORRUPTION BUSINESS

In my career I’ve witness the deconstruction of the commercial publishing sector in totality. The reduction to a corporate puppetmaster op. The demonetisation, deprivacy, surveillance state patrolling and feature-limiting exploration of “copyright control prohibits”, and the deprofessionalism of the internet version of the media, belying the infinite and “eye of horus” agenda of the big business fascists who own the majority of the semiconductor firms - people and organisations with a totalitarian and controlling agenda. The megalomaniacs and elites. The bearding school victims, the hall monitors. The overachievers with an emotional volatility issue.

What of the facebook meat grinder. The big brother stock market of ideas and people. The face tracking nightmare. Such power to exploit? For good, for fun, for profit, for power, for amusement. For that sensation of being able to observe and bully. The opportunity for leverage.

The fruits of hubris, such led astray,
Will turn such dreams to dust and clay.
the stolen lives, they reside… where?
Beneath your feet lie the bones… of whom?
And of your own…?"

Her journey's
unmend,
departs
of beatific

the spirit
of the unclaimed,
the truths are untold,

the fortunes stolen.

The ultra-manipulation. The asymmetry. The bogus.

The skewed. The overpowering aroma of sickening abuse. The cheating of good reason, and the celebration of it.

Oh who would learn the truth?

For in the land where whispers play,
She learned that hubris leads astray.

Mobbing, it’s a turn on. Adrenaline pumps, the social bonding of aggression. The dopamine buzz of winning. Beating the adversary. Mocking the [PRISONER]’s social paucity and deliberate isolation campaign. The dismantlement of his career, and the robbery of anything that’s positive. Creatively appropriated to “those more deserving”. Every mannerism and element of style copied. Attention to detail technique and concept, borrowed wholesale. Stolen to spite, by a sociopath with obsessive boundary problems and abandonment issues, and a family riddled with organised crime and physical abuse. Mixed race kid raised by Egyptians from Middlesborough in Knightsbridge in the ‘80s, stealiing council flats off working class people to build a “nice little rental empire” in England. Petit bourgeoise to the hilt, and ruthless in spirit.

This wizard is solid - a figure born of ancient wisdom and profound physical knowledge. He has endured torture unknown to “mere mortals”. As have many others exposed to “the program” and “ECHELON” era government stonewalling weirdness.

He resides in an internal machinery, a mystical forest of physics and energetic domain alignment and insight, a corrolary of the cosmology, and embedding of olodumare’s grandmother’s darkness, a hollow core from the [••••••• MK.MONARCH][MJ-0][TRIPLICATE-SYNERGY/photon multiplier.HOLLOWPOINT.q.dot.DOMAIN/MASERFILE/QUANTUMRESEARCH.DREAMSCAPE.CHEAPSPEAK]
[STYX/MK.SEARCH.??SS-LEOPARD.SPIDERSILK / SOVIET CYBERNETICS “6th column” auxiliary operations / one of the few remaining functioning reserve editions of the higher evolution of the Project X-ray Delta “tier zero” / “assisted soldier” program operated by the MoD and Five Eyes project group in the early ‘80s.

… a place where shadows dance and secrets are whispered by the wind. His appearance is striking, with eyes that seem to hold the depth of the north sea, and a presence that commands respect and a goodly degree of caution, and for many an immediate sense of profound fear and immediate danger.

He is not just a master of procedural witchcraft, architectural engineering and pyrotechnics, but also a guardian of deeper truths and complex philosophical reasoning. He doesn’t work against the universe’s way of being or doing things volitionally, and the observable [karmic] universe is EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE EQUIPMENT with SERIOUS CAPABILITIES, and that’s without mentioning the peculiar symmetry and humour of the [HOLY.SPIRIT/COMPLEXanti-demonology.flipbook.thesis]. ørishaworld/”_CRESTED/”

This wizard has seen many seekers and suspicious individuals with an agenda to purchase or deceive. He sees them come and go, each driven by their own desires and ambitions.

His role has been not merely to endure the “whipping boy” clandestine abuse, and deliberate control by the big forces of the MoD, and the complex civil crossfire of the Global War on Terror, but also to endure the pressure of the toxic harassment campaign borne out of the proliferation of image and video capture, and the impossibility of patrolling such volumes of content without admitting to automation which is orders of magnitude more aware than people… which has long existed in secret within government and industry, the “big systems” which offer “real security,

It has proven improble to endure the punishment and remain cool and collected, but nontheless employing deadpan graveyard humour, to comically test-their-abilities but to reveal the true nature of

[_________/___________] Y/yN*

and the consequences of their actions.

When taking the piss out of wizard, making a mockery of him… dispensing the poison… a lingering suspicion remains… that maybe it’s not a good idea.

When or if he finds out the truth… what could he do? With such a mind, and such faculties? What if the public were made aware of the truth… by somebody truthful and eloquent […] ? Would you go to jail?

Those who test his mettle finds that he hits super hard, explosive force is delivered focused to a point, but the application of momentum makes it look smooth like butter. Being caught napping in direct combat is like running into concrete at speed. It’ll explode you, like hitting the “invisible wall” at speed, or putting your limb into a guillotine that’s blunted to prevent total severance of the limb. The turbulent condition of “crank” or “torque”, the twisting viperdom of python’s firmest embrace, and evolution of leopard paw built from a compendium of international sources and lengthy impact training and balance skills. An encyclopedia of ergonomics and geometric solidness and space. The gravity shadow, the shakedown of the ages.

Consternation typically follows the hollow laughter of the abuse as witnessed - the poisoning - the disrespect and “flying monkey” staged abuse. The “puppet on a string” agenda.

To so use such gifts as wizard’s destruction - and to confiscate his lighthearted view,… to buy him out of any opportunity for love… to keep him isolated and ruin him slowly, bit by bit, “DOMINATION” by cunning, not only force and numbers. Technology is the modern advantage.

So be it… to be oft rewarded with mockery and deceit might be usual in hellscapes of the spirit. That’s how the story goes, you know. The contempt.

Jealously subjected to franchise and excluded from celebration or honour. Sought to be brought down. To be exposed as a “false witness”. An “untrustworthy agent”… we can use it. Don’t worry. It’s OK.

When Çiğdem Boru approached him, the wizard immediately perceived the hubris that fuels her journey. He touches her spirit, feels her skin, and her… temperature of deceit. The cruelty. The narcosed haze, the delicate beauty. The almost unnatrual transparent view.

He sees it, and feels it. Not out of malice but out of a desire to oblige her, and to teach her a valuable lesson about true love. One heart to give away… love for sale by Cole Porter brought up to date. How would somebody say no to such a beauty, under such circumstances?

A pilot’s delivery of the runway experience for girls / courtesy of ma’am victoria’s best insights. Like terminator, the machine at work, soul like a ninja, unspoken, silent, stuck to the ceiling, observing. Oh she knows, I can see it on her. And this broke her heart, I can see her go. She couldn’t look no more.

The calmness betrays the vision. Through trials of fire and storm, as it does, the universe stripped away her pride and revealed the core of her intentions. The very deliberate and organised rape of it.

Sensing
Seeing a picture. Of blackness and a girl like cigdem, naked, posing, looking cheeky but scared…

an image of the wooden trojan horse, and the black clad men, railing against BP,

IN ABSENTIA / fulfilling a lifetime ambition WIZARD once revealed to OMAR BOOM… a “bucket list” delivery to the british museum… how curious… do you know about the “SECRETUM”?

A TROJAN HOSS://

No coincidencd. / STEALING THE LIGHT / PROTOCOL OF ABUSE : SOCIOLOLGY: “:ENERGY VAMPIRISM:”

“say hello to helen of troy”…

The story of the hubris of hector reminds those who might…

/.////.////./

Wizard, having been given clues, and knowing much about Phoenix’s LONGTERM involvement with the “dirty end of the police” - ACTIVISM - the “special demonstration squadron”, the “dysfunctional AWOL marines”, and the Coutts, the mafia series, the “serious mob” at the windmill. The Raymond Revue sign on the horizon.

The vice matrix. The video porn, the stalker games. The bicycle rickshaws which take you “wherever you want”, especially the brothel and the casino / special licenses are required for these scenes/… of course we take bribes / _ “‘.

Wizard has been tangling with a lot of deep end dangerous unreasonable outlaw and false government forces, and considers himself lucky not to have been killed thus far - you can believe it they’ve tried, and what’s more it’s dramatised. They have the evidence on CCTV, documented in detail. It’s circulated like pornography.

There’s a deep state official side. Anybody can film anybody, privacy is very much gone. But the people who run the citywide systems, with auto-follow and face-track, what do they make out of the idiots. The bullingdon trophy tapes. The trash the plebs operation of comedy and coke. Get some booze down you old boy. Let’s go for broke today, and show them what for. Look at their little faces. So sad…

We don’t know the truth about anything, it’s all compartmentalised and the records go missing and get destroyed. The legacy disappears in the covert domain before the project reaches “GO TIME:”

There’s paperwork and court hearings, most likely. A proper archive, all conducted in secrecy, by Royal Household order.

We do not speak of such things, for they are treasonous. The adherance to honour of the MacDonalds is elite. Notorious. Deadly. Consequences considered, in darkness honour so often falters. Father and son, can be turned upon each other, and the ships were allegedly sunk… if you believe the official stories, which I don’t…

The wizard's wisdom is encapsulated in his understanding that true conduct lies not in externalities, or control by contest, but that true insight lies within the tao. You can feel the truth through the understanding of the human condition. We are all the same in spirit.

The palm was warm, the lizard died in the sunshine. Impaled with cupid’s falsehood.

Her heart was not as warm as it should b.

A threaded mesh, detected. Liver, kidneys, an array of bindings, Punishments, to be lifted by whom> Ah… well that’s for destiny.

He knew that hubris - the proof of excessive pride by victorious deed - this dying ground is not a sport. It is a graveyard of the elite soldier, a point made too sharp, a caustic element of sadistic pleasure. A stab in the back with a smile on the face. A stiletto heel click on the concrete floor of the gated compound. A flitting shadow of romantic horror, the betrayal of lovers, the assassin’s nest. The eyes wide shut power play. The heroin-like opioid pills, the bodily edits, the manicured skin, and the softest glove leather, the darkest lingerie.

Hubris of this sort… so often leads to downfall \

Nemesis is very real as [potential][rendition].

‘

But who seeks to guide Çiğdem towards a path of truth or good news self-awareness? Her grandmother? Or perhaps the ghosts of SOE?? The remains of the French Revolution, cooked into gourmet entertainments for fools and princes.

Nobody, you see. Nobody you see, but who do you see watching from the darkness? nobody in particular. There’s nobody here again.

In the end, at the fates’ gateway of elysian dreams, the wizard's teachings commemorate Çiğdem’s unspoken losses over the years, learning of the project, and its basis. The deception’s realisation. That moment of coldness when she realised who had been lost to the furnace she knew well. The dreams they killed, and what got lost along the way.

She learns indeed you see one day along the way that the pursuit of power for selfish reasons leads to pain and loss.

While wrought from worsted conditions, the strength of sanity comes from the roughening, the toughness borne from understanding and compassion.

She saw the untarnished forgiveness, the sea blue waves reflected - the blue eyes of the eagle’s vision in his spirit. Embedded in his corneal reflex. The wizard's role is thus both a mentor and a mirror, reflecting the inner truths of those who seek his guidance. A momentary axis, a point of reference. A mirroring of the universe, in blue notes joys and horrors, shades of moonlights, and darkest midnight shadow. The worst of the storm, the electric lightning bolt touching the underwater inky black foamtop.

Such “need to know” operations are of this era. They are of the evilness. They are the furnace, the molochian era. The burning pyre of poverty. The destruction of the majority before childhood, spiritually. By the systems of privilege, and the machiavellian construct of the Gladio era of the #OPERATION.COLDWAR.MAFIA.SYNDICATES/UNDERWORLD.PLUS

In the end, the wizard's briefest teachings serve for nought. The zero is a note. The shadow upon shadow noted, the blackness of the corner is what’s been “caught stealing”. The light missing, the warped mirror. The MGM. The hotelier’s secrets.

The butchers shop.

The blackmail ops. The spycraft and spycatch networks.

The extortion ring /s.

The real dollars behind the -anon

-TAO/GCHQ/C/@

- [M]? / ß[-ss][/von][DNY.Ma[krak]ada.whip./?whodis?_<on>ó/wu.know.hu?-wen?/quy…
[FIFA/Rothschild.MOssad.[-SS](8KGB)FS.TS.BLACKOUT

The universe will - as for all things - transform Çiğdem. Those wishes come true, more often than not. It’s the xost ahta’ts 00diffi_cult

She learns

of this truth : that the pursuit of power for selfish reasons
leads to pain and loss,

DECEPTION AS CONTROL -0 THIS HAD THE HIGHEST COST.
IT”S TRUE./. NO CONSENT + DISHONESTY […] WRIT LARGE _ [Regine = accomplice to [? guess who…] = / _ BIG PROBLEMS

HIDDEN CAMERA IN THE DRESSING ROOM
MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL
[with more than one hole in it, of course, for observation]


HUMILIATION // THE WORD/OLIVER REED /.///
//.//_ WHO KILLED TIM BURKE? RIP… J4G

WQHO GOT VIDEO OF PRINCESS DIANA UP TO “NO GOOD?”: HOW MANY […] CHARLIE IS

// “A BUSY MAN WE HE” // A$R // ___ o\paging Dr Li.spirochete.knowhow.TCM.herbology.spleen_immunohistology

while true strength comes
from
understanding and compassion.

The wizard's role in this saga of privacy erosion and reputational manicuring, personal career destruction and organised bullying. Quintessential mobbing and undermining.

Made to feel “defective” and “out of the loop”.

He isn’t smart, he’s autistic. Maybe a psychopath! They say, typically.

Rumour-mongering and false reports to the authorities involved to escalate surveillance to furnish further abuse, and allocate extra leverage and resources, and so the project grows and grows, and leaves a traction wake in the cosmos… of dubious provenance, and ethical consent.

MY ABUSERS EXPLORING THE GAINS FROM MY CHEMICALLY INDUCED INCAPACITY WERE EXHIBITED. I WAS HUMILIATED, EXPLOITED. MY “DOWNFALL” WAS ENGINEERED. CELEBRATED. DOCUMENTED. ACCOMPLICES WERE SENT TO “INFILTRATE AND UNDERMINE HIS WORK”. THIS “SOURCE OF COMPETITIVE INDUSTRY INFORMATION” WAS USED AS THE BASIS FOR COMMERCIAL EXPLOITATION, AND THE LAMPOONING / PORNO SATIRE OF MY PERSONAL CONDUCT AND BEHAVIOUR. “THE IT GUYS”.

A MOCKERY MADE OF MY AGENDA, PROVENANCE AND TECHNICAL TRAINING. A DELETION OF MY MATURATION OF COMPETENCE.

MANY SECRETS KEPT FROM ALL ABOUT WHAT’S REALLY B/EE.N* GOING [ON] […] AND WHO IS WATCHING WHAT, FOR HOW LONG.

The media online serves as a memorial, a memoir of loss made rendered into darkness, my ongoing experience of severe FQ poisoning is truly brutal. You’d have to experience it to believe it, I thought a stroke sounded relatively mild. 2400mg is quite a lot. I could have died, I really believe it.

the poisonings, the strictness, the intolerance, the humiliation and the humiliation - for what?

The question rings on, and anon. This truth is thus both a mnemoniuc, a memorex, a momentary collision, a sorrowful gleam of realisation, a spoken story of mentoring, the legacy of Fritz Ter Meer, Claus Schilling. The Sinister Operations of Bayer and Monsanto, and the continuation of Standard Oil and IG Farben / ThyssenKrupp / BASF / Ford.

THE PETTY TYRANNY BULLIES KNOW THAT HIGH INTELLIGENCE CONSCIENSCIOUS… IS INTOLERABLE.

GET RID OF THIS GUY. MAKE HIM LOOK AS SHIT AS POSSIBLE>

“WE KNOW HE GETS PROBLEMS… HE’S ‘one of those’ “ OMAR TOLD US STORIES AND SHOWED US THE FOOTAGE…

[•••••••] [INCLUDE/EXCLUDE] [GARBAGE/DUMP]

[SOCIAL ANXIETY AGGRESSION ENGAGE
CONFLICT MODE [AUTO]
GLASL STAIRCASE]

[…] and an opportunity to reveal the stark opportunities by those who control mass surveillance systems to abuse - the knowledge that’s concealed is how common this is in business and government - to facilitate voyeuristic sadism and mobbing abuse using surveillance technology in a digital communications context, remote overview of a target is easy. Regardless of lawyers, the cameras pass images and data readily. The developed world is on a plate as a realtime feed.

A broken mirror, reflecting the inner truths of those who seek to destroy such guidance, a condensate of brilliance and enlightenment of eras. Non military targets can be quickly and efficiently eliminated. It can look like an accident or a medical emergency. The “softkill” approach is favourable, the polonium teapot is only for showoffs on special occasions. Your mobile phone could probably stop your heart if reprogrammed properly, espeically if you’re pacemaker sorts.

To those who sought to destroy, to humiliate. To expose as “faulty” and “rejected”…

A consequence of a misfit reflection,

a skewing of the truth. A robbery of goodwill.

An opportunity for hubristic humiliation.

A narcisisstic abuse celebration.

A story of vanquishment and PSYCHOLOGICAL CONTROL.

A BDSM “VIRTUAL PRISONER” PROGRAM ORGANISED BY “YOU KNOW WHO…

IT’S MOMMY DEAREST!”
BLOCKING DAUGHTER’S SEXY TIME 4 SURE - IF DAUGHTER IN LAWS… WORST OF ALL. SONS MUST NOT KNOW
WHAT WOMEN DO…
EMBITTERED GENERATIONAL BPD / PTSD + MK WHATSIT + 1950s TROPICAL DISEASES
COMA IS NOTHING NEW / SONGLINES / _DREAMWORX

A celebrated injustice.

AN OPPORTUNITY… [..,[ for ‘“


q_Y:/:00:/jb.G[ul][ºƒ]@_ò”_‘—-//////*

The b/

HOW THE GRINCH STOLE XMAS FUTURE

THE DIORAM___/|\_A\PRON _ WAR--M/UP?
DISHONOUR. CONFISCATION. PILLORY. OPPORTUNISTIC “REPLACEMENT” BY COMPETITIVE AGENDA.

MOBBING IS A THRILL, NO? ?

TO [WITNESS/DENIAL]…

…MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE A BYSTANDER…

Nobody (miss me?) [l8r] … ] .b /x

“IT AIN’T JUST A PISSING CONTEST, BRO…”

Have you seen the history, / and the numbers?
the ~cost? @seriously.
Zero.sum.what?

[-anon]. [andon] _____ ‘arist/_o_/nº?’

[it] [b/it] [bit] [Y] [_]. [y*]. #@[n^º]?N

‘$. [-ss]

‘ [Ó’N] `. / I / O (n^^_)ı*

[AN][NO!@} / [_/_] [ - · · - ] /XD
\/\/KJD-