More Ramblings

It is a public holiday in this part of the world, and not a whole lot is going on, save excitement like doing laundry. Written tongue-in-cheek as the perps find this aspect of my existence endlessly fascinating and have once lined up five gangstalkers to "stand by" me extracting it from the dryer to my basket. There is something they want to understand about garments and their energetics as they come from the laundry. My brother bought a commercial laundry about a year ago, and it is very likely he is my surrogate in this respect.

It is a morning of the usual provocations and rants, maser/zinger action in my field of vision, and a few other "crumb jobs", usually brown colored to add variety to the brown colored foods that may already be present (e.g. peanut butter, chocolate, cereal). And true to form, the perps cause my nose run when eating chocolate and/or peanut butter about 80% of the time, and I do not have a cold nor any allergic reaction. They want some finger-at-nose action for whatever purposes they have in mind, and it is so consistent as to be only a chore, not worthy of ranting about it.

The facial asymmetry is back, so the trend of symmetry (like my face was) was only a temporary state. The perps are also allowing me to turn off light switches without redirecting my fingers to slide, miss or fumble about everytime. Not what I call progress as obviously I never had the problem in the first place before all this depraved hell came upon me.

And from yesterday's minor discussions with the so-called parents who cast me into this purgatory and continue to abet it, there was a "suggestion" that they want me to discontinue my internet access in the next round of being poor, at the next place to be, wherever that is. Also, and not unexpectedly, they gave the broad hint that they don't want me to return to their place and live, but the feeling is mutual to be sure. And it would be more so if I had any control over my life circumstances. Since I left home all I wanted was to be independent enough to stay out of their clutches of their blithering ineptitude and chaos. Now I am cast back into that pit again. Visiting then is a constant bad dream even if it weren't for their blatant gangstalking.

The noise assault on sorting my laundry came on just before I headed out the door. A combination of overhead rythmic pounding as if a exercise machine was in use, human voice humming, and an on-off noise of a guitar being rapped on its back. As I write this the zingers are going mad, so this must be an elevated noisestalking moment.

The perps gave me a 40 minute nap after lunch; ordinarily I have no need for them, but I have long learned it doesn't take much for them to create the "need", hoping it will be a close-to-normal experience. Some of their longer naps "leave me" (read perp created) feeling trashed for the remaining hours in the day. And likely too, the nap was scripted to coincide with the 12" of sun falling on the end of my bed. In this way, they have my feet in the sun, and the rest of me in shade.

This could be to "examine" my new (old) shoes while heated and illumated differently from the rest of me. I have been wearing black Ecco's for 4 years straight, and the perps even took the plastic heel stiffening insert out of them, which are embedded between the inner and outer leather. Quite the feat, and not even the cobbler cover story. That is, the perps creating one problem with the shoes, having me take them to the cobbler, and then the perps trash/modify them in some other way at the same time. But suddenly, as of two days ago, the soles on the black Ecco's became worn through, and other pieces were falling off. They had even packed some dark red glitter in some gum on the base of the soul to simulate one of their problem colors, deep metallic red. Worth framing I should think.

In the course of my brother (strangely) helping me store my boxed possessions last week, we created access to the remaining boxes, one with my brown Ecco's. They still have the heel stiffeners in them, and I will soon find out if the perps can handle that or not. Moving to brown shoes represents a big step forward in the perp's games, so they might well have been making progress on all things brown. I am getting seriously noisestalked/spooked so another login/post paragragh for later.

And said brother is leading a mysterious life; when I asked him about moving the rest of my boxes he said he would help. I asked him if was going anywhere in August as that is his traditional holiday time, and he said no. A week later my mother says he has gone for a week to Bella Coola, a remote town on the British Columbia coast. Then yesterday my mother talks about him coming back next week, making it two weeks away. She backpeddles some and says maybe 10 days. Then when I learn about his route, he "happens' to be following my footsteps in my forestry summer work days in the Caribou region. This is the second time he has done this; two years ago, a trip for which he wouldn't explain (but had to name drop) took him to Powell River and Texada Island, more of my stomping grounds from the past. He had no prior association to that area, and was disinclined to say why he went there. No big deal, just another Feral Family mystery, and no authentic explanation that bears scrutiny.

And at the risk of sounding too conspiratorial, my ex-wife and my daughter are spending a month in Europe travelling. They are visiting relatives in the UK and will push on to continental Europe via the Eurostar train travelling in the so-called Chunnel, something we did as a family some 10 years ago. Anyhow, their present holiday does cover a lot of the same ground, and others from my own Europe trips in 1976. And to be fair, they are visiting Tuscany, an area unknown to me.

The 10 year ago trip to Europe was remarkable for two things; my then wife being an extra colossal idiot and a rude travelling companion, and that the perps, in their "quest of the brown", had me take a crap in the Eurostar (train) toilet while travelling in the Channel Tunnel at some 150 km/hr and 450 feet below sea level. And here the perps are 10 years later, still ragging me every time I take a shit, and even scheduling a 500 gallon septic services truck to park outside my apartment "on a pump job" for a building that is on sewer, twice in two weeks. And two other septic service truck stalkings when walking for groceries.

Anyhow, my then wife's behavior continued to become more erratic, which was the script for divorce later. It was my last vacation, and I still haven't recovered from it in many ways, because it was no rest. And no, I won't ask them if they took a shit in the Channel Tunnel for the perp's operations.

If anyone cheerful has any ideas of a parody in being a TI, I have a suggestion to get started; call them agents of SMIRK , one of their orchestrated acts they put on. For TI's, there is very little humor, being the butt of juvenile sickos with god-like tools to mess one around all the time. Or at least be on guard for it.

I see my links are restored, one of those self-remedying problems that TI's sometimes experience.

And the sickos pulled two enraging stunts today; that is a provocation and then "me" screaming at them. This marks the first time in a month they have mind-fucked me into that response, but I had a suspicion they couldn't keep their mitts off the #1 jerkaround harassment stunt. And since they broke the ice on that one, what is coming next? Back to constant non-stop all day provocation and enragement? Stay tuned, more ugliness is overdue.