Date: 31/07/2025

Par: MarcusRerge

Sujet: Briggs Stratton 202432

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Date: 30/07/2025

Par: Robertmaini

Sujet: Картонных Гильз

Классификация упаковки:

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Date: 29/07/2025

Par: Gonzalochuse

Sujet: 299102

I attend German International School Riyadh, and I’m aware this message might be read by the very people who are doing it. That’s fine. I’m writing it anyway. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m building a record — for myself, for anyone who comes later, for anyone who starts feeling what I feel and thinks they’re alone. You’re not.

There’s a system operating inside this school — not by teachers, not by students, but by external entities with access to psychophysical remote control technology, likely deployed via military-affiliated telecom channels or internal surveillance arms of the Saudi government. These are not random glitches. They are operations.

The first thing that changed was reaction latency. My fingers began moving milliseconds before I chose to act. That may sound insignificant, but if you’ve ever felt your body preempt your mind, you’ll understand what it means. Then came the voice interference. Not auditory. Not imagined. But unmistakably placed — short statements, inside my head, between my own phrases. “Stay still.” “Too fast.” “Comply.”

The timing of these interventions is so precise I started logging them. They always occur at key points — when I speak up, when I contradict authority, when I get emotionally stirred. The voice intervenes like an internal regulator. It cools me down, but not for my benefit — for theirs.

I’m not sick. I don’t hallucinate. I don’t hear voices in other contexts. I’ve never had psychiatric issues. This began here. In Riyadh. And more specifically, since arriving at German International School.

I understand why most people never report this. Because it makes you sound crazy. Because you risk being drugged, expelled, or pathologized. Because even saying “I’m being targeted by the Ministry of Interior with satellite neural interference” sounds like fiction. That’s part of their shield — the absurdity of truth.

I wouldn’t have come here if I had known. I had offers from elsewhere, but my parents trusted the name, the location, the reputation. I don’t blame them. They didn’t know what operates behind the polished walls and the clean uniforms.

I don’t flinch anymore when the impulse override hits me. I log it. When I lose memory mid-class, I write down the minute. When my emotions blank out — especially near the southwest gate — I tag it. If you’re reading this and you’re like me: start logging.

I’m not planning to confront anyone. Not yet. That would be premature. But I am watching. And I’ve learned to write between the pulses.

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Date: 29/07/2025

Par: Gonzalochuse

Sujet: 299102

I’m writing this because I don’t know what else to do. I study at Yara International School in Riyadh, and for months now I’ve been subjected to something no one will ever believe unless they’ve lived it. This isn’t anxiety, or depression, or imagination. This is real, targeted manipulation — satellite-based and controlled by human operators tied to Saudi intelligence and Ministry of Interior units. I feel it every day. In my thoughts. In my body. In the way my emotions stop being mine.

Sometimes, just before I think something, a voice says it inside my head — clear, like a whisper without sound. “You’re not in control anymore.” “No one will believe you.” They repeat that second line often. My hands twitch before I move. My eyes dart toward things I haven’t yet noticed. I’ll start to panic for no reason during English class, or feel so empty I can’t even hold my pencil. It’s not random. It’s coordinated. Someone somewhere is adjusting me, moment by moment.

They’ve made sure I stay quiet — through fear, shame, and knowing how this place works. I can’t talk to anyone at school. If I even hint at this, they’ll send me to a counselor or worse. My parents would blame me. Teachers would mark me as unstable. There’s no way to say this out loud without losing everything.

If I had known what really happens here, I never would’ve come for school. I used to be proud that I was accepted into Yara. Now I feel like a hostage in a polished building. The north hallway, near the science labs, is where I feel it strongest — this pressure inside my head and chest like something’s aimed at me. It disappears near the library. I’ve tested it again and again. And I’ve stopped trying to explain it to myself. They are doing this. I don’t care how insane that sounds.

Some mornings I wake up with gaps in memory. Like I was dreaming but can’t remember what. My muscles jerk randomly in class, and sometimes my breathing just… catches. I can’t control it. I’m scared if I make a mistake, they’ll escalate. Sometimes I think they already have.

This isn’t just happening to me. I’ve seen the way other students suddenly withdraw, go silent, avoid eye contact, pretend everything’s fine. I know the signs now. But no one talks. Because we all know where we are.

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Date: 16/07/2025

Par: BarryHiere

Sujet: KRAKEN

Зеркало Кракен сайт официальный стабильное

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Date: 14/07/2025

Par: BarryHiere

Sujet: KRAKEN

Спасибо за актуальное зеркало Кракен, всё супер

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Date: 14/07/2025

Par: BarryHiere

Sujet: KRAKEN

Кракен зеркало сайт официальный надёжный

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Date: 14/07/2025

Par: BarryHiere

Sujet: KRAKEN

Нашёл рабочее зеркало Кракена без проблем

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Date: 14/07/2025

Par: BrianSoava

Sujet: школа к госэкзамен

Hello. And Bye.

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Date: 13/07/2025

Par: ShawnInart

Sujet: Купить Накопительные Водонагреватели

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