He is not a human. In our modern day world, it has powers, he is something, like X. How did you even meet him here. Nobody is supposed to meet an alien, here in the 20th Century, present day, California, 1988. Image the movie predator 2. Could anyone of us normal humans ever be able to fight one. It is just feeding on us. I should let the cops handle all of this. They’re used to fighting cheats criminals homicide smugglers and gangsters. I’ve even seen VIPs celebs go out for drugs prostitution, even sometimes upto, foreign invasion, like KGB. But this is ridiculous they’re just cops. People are going to die here. Nothing more.

I dedicate this blog to a lot of people who have passed away in front of me, be it celebs on TV, or movies, books, games, in my family, friend circle, and other extended family. Every time this happens I lose a big part of myself. Then life for me is like C2, and I have to start from scratch, like crawling, barely able to take my weight, in tears, or in shock. I’m too overwhelmed. Why live ? I can’t understand a thing after that. Like I’ve lost my memories of a entire life time ? The world has proved itself to be a dangerous place. I feel it is just the beginning.

“You can call him anything you want. R CIA Wes RT F24 BIT LKO UP SC Ash SRK Claire Z but you’re never going to get to me ever. I’ll go.” – Dev

This is the eternal battle between good and evil. Why should I live ? I don’t know, just self preservation maybe, the lust to know what lies there and beyond, or what the above means ? Because I can’t understand anything what they’re saying either. How long will this battle go on. I must end. I’m old tired gone all bonkers, out of air, out of anything I can call normal. When will this end. Can’t you let me go ? Will I be killed at the hands of some knm, and then people will get satiated. And who are these people, just lots of meat. That’s all I see now. Just tonns of meat trying to take me. I’ll give. I’ll give you anything you want. Just some wes is all I want too. Who am I anyway ? I’m not getting anything here. Its all just an infinite maze of inter dimensional parallel worlds. But I feel you too, I’m always engaged with you. Said David.

Capitol city Lucknow. The hustle and bustle of hazratganj and MG road. A lot of the people of the low class now belong to political parties of the SP and BSP. That’s where they have a majority. Now this is a social and low class, CIA ghost cover up, called R. That’s what comes after me everyday, dressed as cheap, low cost, labor, something that we can’t do without. All this R is now brought in and rendered onto me by Sir, who is just an R too, but covers up as the land lord, and father. This social setup is not real, it stinks of people. They kill. They’ve done it before, and they’ll do it again. That’s what the West is here. And how they got to me, through R. Now I give to them, something that should never be local to me here. Would life get any better for me. Will I be able to sleep on time, and be restful, living in peace and not in fear all the time. Several people in the police and administrative tiers are also involved in this R, something they’re covering up as a news channel called Francke 24, then people start coming out from R. I’ve shut down both of them. I’m not dying for the west or any other cause. They only came to take me thus far. I must give to them, and avert this nonsense of them. But they kill. Nothing more. I’m scared as hell. I call them dad.

This country has just been enacted, given independence from the British. For all the centuries that India existed, it was just CIA for me, But now it is India. Something that is real. Something that can hit me, and cause real injury. So I stay put away from it. I still use stuff called R, and never appear on its scanners. It is known to have purported several attacks on me since birth. But they come to take me as R. Then they hit me, with a politics that Sir calls, people coming here, the mishap, then people leaving this place, giving me some relief, I heal later when I give to them through a computer. They are social, that’s where they found me. So I stay aloof, no family, no religion, not social at all. I can’t leave this country, can’t leave where I live. They are concrete. I’ll die if I don’t give to them. But it is a very modern cover up that takes form for me in some newsroom, and later transforms into people in a house, being social, calling me son. I find it obnoxious. Their lies are so thin. I have to give to them, or they’ll scream and shout, make my life hell. Take me back to the dark ages, they’ll go ape and hitting me with violent gas and concentration camps. They’re ugly and stinky. They keep annoying me and scaring me all the time. I have to take a lot of blame, and keep my confidence low here. Or they’ll go ape and wreck havoc for me.

This is agency of The West. For me it is something that is a ghost protocol, meaning it does not exist. Because the West does not exist either. It was built on the premise, that it would stay always something for me, that I can’t have, or cannot possibly ever comprehend, or reach or achieve. Things that I cannot understand or perceive is what all this is about. Sir calls them knm. These are the things that are the computer or echelon for me here. When they cover up, they are a country or a set of countries called USA, UK, EU, Australia, Canada, who want more land from or are at war with the former Soviet Union. That’s nothing for me. It is waste paper from the Russian Federation. Who they really are is Nick Jones, RT America, stuff that does not exist in those countries. So I can’t find them on the map. They start as something that is knm, elusive, later they turn it into something that you watch or do, someone you can’t have, called R. Then that further, when brought to me by Sir, turns into a mishap for me. Leading to fatal injuries, even death for me. So I must evade it at all costs. That is the only goal that they have for me, and also the only goal I have for me is to evade them no matter what. They coming out as Langley, Virginia, or NATO in the News means nothing to me either. So all this turns into a proxy war. In a construct that they call reality. They never come out in the open about any of this. Because they don’t know. And even if they know that is also another R for me. So I am CIA.

A computer, really advanced, not the kind you could have seen or used ever. Something like a supercomputer mainframe that you reach in a building complex, then log into, and complete a service or job card, transaction. That’s how you give to him. Then he’ll start working like before, would be able to find you and go ahead with his campaign of staying jealous staying arrogant and staying covered up. If you’ve evaded or not accepted his way, then you give to him, then he’ll move along, without haying you. Otherwise he’ll kill. K

They want their way, I should fit exactly into their cover up, they keep looking for me, where they find me is what, they give to me. They get their way with me, they win, that’s what they give. And all of this is brought to me by Sir. They’re not here to live or survive, only to stay jealous of good people. And they kill. Staying arrogant all this while. They stay covered up. That’s a deadly set of rules that they exhibit. Do I even have a chance here, this thing is a machine, nothing will go through to him, you can’t bargain with it, you can’t evade him either. He’ll get his way, even if it takes several years or iterations or several of him. You can think of them as a certain race of humans dedicated to be bad like the west, but later turns out to be good, and world leader, and I’m the dead guy here, taking blame and guilt, for the better good of all. You can’t fight this thing, you only stay put, and avoid his constantly scanning prying stare.

All these years of news current affairs, just keeping myself up to date, or getting the right info, so that I can move around, get more job skill, get proficient at work and the city. But they’ve been working for the police, the people. They want stuff to happen. Putting me in news, finding out who or where I live, what I do. Why don’t they already know any of this, they’re the cops the government. If they want to race me then kill me right away. Why not. Living off the grid, I never let any of those news people near me. They stink of terrorism, accidents and mishaps. That’s all they want. Why can’t they just let me go, and not be some small time prick. What’s the difference anyway? So I’ve thrown away news people years ago, they’re just bad news nothing more. I’ve been attacked by them before, several times all over my life. It’s weird psycho sensation, that I’ve been messed up by something corossive hot violent. It isn’t a man, just some really bad people. You can call them the state, government, cops, reporters, doctors, or just civilians. They’re a freak show. They don’t feel real too me anymore. Just a bunch of criminals, they have no soul. No emotions. Just fake, covered up. We are already here, this is the future. Stay put. They only come to take me, I must evade them, what they want, is end of mankind. Nothing less, I can feel that, cold.

20th Century AD, about 1989. The world is modern now. It is triads, TV, Movies, Games, Satellaties, Space Shuttles and shit. The arrogant state, only Cold War. People dying on their own. Or getting blow to bits and pieces in news and internet. This now, this the age of Cable TV. What do you do, how do you survive here. Everything here is politics, terrorism, gangsters, shock and awe. The Terminator. West is here all over the world. Everywhere. How do you survive, these cars, police patrols, guns and violence. Everyone is under surveillance, taped and recorded. This whole government is built for one thing. So that police can arrive, directly or indirectly. Times running out. You can’t escape the authorities. They are watching us. They have to come. Crime must happen. It can’t be evaded or postponed. What if they’re the ones doing it. Why not escape to a space base. The civilians are all social.