Emails to Webmaster (May 17, 2022):
Dear Mr. Karlstrom: My name is Pamela Ayn Austen, and I publish books at my small press: EntirelyJesus.com. I’ve wanted for a while now to add to my site what I’ve been through with gang stalking. I’m writing the book: The Ghost in the Machine, and it’s my testimony about it. But, your site is so fantastic, I hate to even get started with my own. I want permission to link to yours constantly, as I go along, and also quote you and people from your website in my book. My book will be weak without you, I’m convinced.
I know you hear from a lot of people, so please don’t ever take your website down out of discouragement. It’s the best one I’ve seen, and it has so much, and it’s made so clear for everyone. You’ve done excellent. Thank you.
The hardest part about coming to grips with the notion of being gang-stalked is: not understanding what’s happening and why and by whom. The not knowing is the hardest part, I think. And that’s what is so wonderful about the site you’ve put together. You give soul and heart medicine to the isolated and fretting; a soothing salve, I think is what the book of Psalms would call it.
When I said, “It’s too much,” I meant the whole subject matter, because I’m looking at a great deal in my own life that I want to write about, but it’s too much. Too many things have happened to me to remember and write about it all. That’s what I meant about too much. No, no, I didn’t mean your site was too much. Your site is going to help me reconstruct the things that have happened to me, so that now I understand what each thing was signifying. Your site will help me compartmentalize all the components, instead of just having this mess of my own experiences.
I was forced to live in my car for nine and half months in 2021, all alone, being stalked around the clock by police and citizens alike. Every job I got, within days, they destroyed it. The police would call the manager and “warn them” about me, and I’d be let go. I started just Door Dashing, so that I wouldn’t starve, and they hacked my phone and started literally using Google voice to talk to me through it. I was hunted like an animal, and at night, I’d try to get just a few seconds away from them to ditch them and hide behind buildings so that I could get a few minutes sleep.
Then around sun-up, one of them would creep slowly around the building in their truck or car and spot me, and the day would start again. They honked and honked all day; they followed me into every store, every bathroom, every park. My grown children abandoned me and changed their phone numbers and called me paranoid. So I had to go through the grief of my kids abandoning me to the streets, when I used to have a four bedroom home and a family, and we were so close. Now, they acted like enemies who wanted me dead.
But there was more. Right at the beginning of all this, a demon started physically assaulting me. It felt like a housecat, at first. It would wait until I was alone and lying down, then it would jump up on the sofa or bed (when I still had a home), and the cushion would indent where it was. Then it would put it’s paw on my ankle, and it would walk up the length of my body to my chest, then I could feel it leaning in to look at my face. I’d say the name of Jesus, and it would disappear for a day or two, then it would do it all again. But after I was homeless, it would come into the car while I was asleep, and the seat cushion would indent, then it’d get on my leg and come up, but before I could speak the name of Jesus, it would blow ice cold air right in my mouth and nose.
There was one as big a a cougar, and I was parked by a Holiday Inn in Chattanooga. After that one came, Jesus said, “Leave here and don’t come back, because great evil takes place here.” Then, a few weeks later, what was supposed to be the manager of that Holiday Inn called me out of the blue and offered me a job. I knew the owner was Indian, but this man wasn’t Indian. I also knew the Chattanooga police were after me, stalking me badly, but when they tried to get me to show up at that Holiday Inn, the one Jesus had just told me to never go back to, I knew something horrible was going on. Were they luring me there to kill me? Jesus had warned me already, which is what set off alarm bells right off. Some may say that those things walking on me like housecats weren’t demons, that they were actually people with technology, but the name of Jesus got rid of it, and I don’t think they would have left if men and machines was doing it. But it went to show me that demons and these people are working in unison now; they’re on the same team. It’s been a combination of evil spirits and evil people the whole time with me.
And so, all this stuff and so much more, it feels like too much to write. So please don’t think I was talking about your wonderful site.
Pam