Thursday, August 10, 2006

Gangstalk Gauntlet

1100h A second trip to the housing services office I was at yesterday afternoon, and the perps laid on some of the same overacting headcases today, as yesterday. And the same yappy dude touched another trigger word/concept that is hot with me, which is, not knowing where I am going to move to, three weeks short of the move date. As usual, they put on blonde women gangstalkers at first, then later added in the ever increasing fleet of "workless" men of working age who appear from nowhere it seems. And they are making it over-obvious as well. So it would seem that the perps will likely want extra walking time at the next location wherever it is going to be.

It is all too common to make a repeat trip to the same location at a different time of day, the next day for the ever recurrent "forgotten" item. This technique goes back decades under the cover of Attention Deficit Disorder.

There was an overnight rain that filled plenty of puddles enroute, and the streets and sidewalks were wetted down, one of the perps favorite weather conditions for having me gangstalked. The post-rain events are sometimes set up for exiting a store only, but dry on entry.

The perps put on more painted crosswalk lines, all along my route. I have seen road line repainting at least once per year on my usual route when I had my vehicle. Now, it is no different for the walking routes; newly painted white, yellow and bustop red zones.

Red ball caps were playing big on the male gangstalkers enroute to the housing office. One backpacker inside the office was wearing one, and was doing the coffee routine (waving it around, spilling it, and putting himself between it and me) and another was dangling off his pack. There were other red ball cappers on the sidewalks, and a black woman in a red T-shirt was planted too. Not a big deal by everyday standards, but there are relatively few black people in this city, and I constantly wonder why I see so many on my few travels.

Blonde women abounded though; one was on standby duty, i.e. no ostensible cause, and standing with a cup of coffee, dressed in black and white. Others were at the office, one suspiciously like the blonde woman I met and conversed with at length yesterday, looking older only. When I sat down I could not see behind the corner, and while waiting there, four gangstalkers emerged one in a medichair, all of whom I would of seen earlier. Anyhow, "sudden parades", though never seeing their origin, are not new in the life of a TI. I also got an in-room gangstalk with a grey and deep red Icelandic sweater wearing woman, and when I got outside (when she should of been long gone), she was in the still-stance position facing me; feet about 12" apart, arms at her sides with her hands 3" off her body and staying stock still momentarily. Why anyone would be wearing a thick wool Icelandic on a day like today is yet another unanswered question.

Also occuring while waiting at the office was a plasma ghosting of me, offset by 18" in front of me. This happened twice and yet none of the overacting "headcases" said anything.

Being the center of a freakshow means that the perps have no compunction about laying on other freaks about the TI (this one anyhow). That includes 1960's style bright orange pantsuit outfit on a woman who timed her doorway exit to cross my path as close to me as socially permissable, on the ruse that she was headed for a taxi, blue and white colored. This was a little pinch play on a narrow sidewalk portion, as a darker blue medichair was also "parked" there unattended in a another credulity testing arrangement. She had a navy blue jacket over her orange pantsuit blouse, -it would seem that the perps were attempting to leverage a navy blue color response and then determine what the other planted proximate blue colors were doing (to me, neurological energetics-wise IMHO) as well as the masked orange color.

One routine that the gangstalkers are engaging in, almost to the point of caricature, is head turning for no apparent reason. Or as a substitute, they gaze upward as if something was there. (There usually isn't, and I have long given up attempting to verify this coordinated dumb-fuck routine). Usually it is the male gangstalkers, some of which also "came from nowhere", one doing the bendover stunt, and seeming to be at a loose end as to what his cover story was. Another was waving and pointing, the technique is mentioned at length in this blog posting.

The white hair act also gets added into the freak show, this one putting on the white brand new runners as well. The perps have an obsession about ensuring that I see/react to white hair as well as red hair. Or else it offers some kind of color interaction calibration. Another strong trait amongst the male gangstalkers and operatives is to go bald, "skinheads" are what I name them.

And more long distance alignment of "peas-in-a-pod" (green colored) gangstalkers, some 80' away, aligning themselves and then splitting apart. Yesteday this identical event played out in dark red, walking in the same direction.

The medichair (motorized wheelchair) gangstalkers are also getting more time in the freakkshow; they carry the torch in as far as bringing deep metallic red color close in to me. And as mentioned above, a rare blue metallic one was left on the sidewalk for the pinch play the perps put on. And the perps like to use the medichair's batteries as an energy source; I have seen beams emanate from them and zap the hell out of me in public.

The vision impairment jerkarounds are becoming more public now; they were once an in-apartment only harassment event, so now it seems that the perps can use this technique outside with the expectation that they can obtain similar results. Often they will "happen" when I am turning a corner or looking in a certain direction. The zinger masers that once passed for what the optometrist called "floaters" are also occuring in the street now. These obnoxious fuzzy black "self-propelled" objects have a nasty habit of sitting exactly where my focal point is, or pairing up, and sitting one on each side of it. (This is playing as I type, so time to logout).

I got two simutaneous gangstalks on the last leg; on the opposite side of the street a male in a brown fleece jacket. Plus they put a female gangstalker 8' behind me, and no mean feat as I was walking quite fast and she somehow stayed behind me. She in a black pantsuit with a fuschia blouse. I didn't know she was there until 2/3 of the block had been walked when a leaf crackled behind me. This is at least the third time a gangstalker has been on my tail (<8' behind me) and I don't "discover" it until the latter third of the very same block in the same direction. And furthermore, this street is not that busy , having only two residential towers and the back end of a car lot. I cannot figure out how the gangstalkers arrive with such precision and little warning in any conventional sense. It is uncanny, and if it is teleporting, it always happens when I am not looking, 100% of the time.

My theory is that the blonde women gangstalkers in black are the calibration standard, and whatever energy/emanations they create in me, is what the perps are attempting to replicate in other colors, brown being their biggest problem. Also of interest is that the perps created a "shaving bleed" that self healed, but enough to be spread upon the white towel. This is not unusal, and at times they dispense with the shaving cover story and created a spontaneous bleed on my nose for the same effect.

I came across a viable description of the NSA's surveillance activity and what they are likely doing, and in my experience it is very credible. The web site author has since stopped posting as he has had his life threatened he claims.

But living in Canada is no different, and the perps are likely an organization for which Canadians are unaware of. The perps can flit across the borders and on one occasion, an operative at the INS inspection lineup, threw his passport on the ground in front of the INS officer so he could then bend over in front of me to pick it up. And curiously, the INS officer found that to be funny. I assume it was all part of the coordinated laughing, coughing etc. game that goes on around me much more than it ever did before.

This post is a disjointed ramble, and for that I aplogize, but I am getting more interference with my grammar rule knowledge than I ever did before.

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