Saturday, October 28, 2006

Constant Thought Stalking

The perps pulled another excessive sleep time last night; 10.5 hours, only 2.5 hours more than normal, BOH, short form for Before Overt Harassment which began 04-15-2002. From then on, it has been one variant of hell after another, and that includes this very minute while a sudden smell of burnt rubber comes from nowhere and the noisestalking action increases commensurately.

For the fourth night in a row, there has been at least an hour of required head flipping before I am allowed to sleep; last night it had to have been three hours. All the while, at every thought that came to mind, the upstairs floorboard were squeaking or a hammering noise was applied. Then within an hour of awakening, the same racket continued, then dogged me through breakfast, dishes and my shave and dental hygeine routine. Mr Eviction-Fiction, the assigned mythical entity that is the cover story for the perp's projected noise capabilities, is keeping the same hours as I am. Theoretically, he is to be evicted by 10-31-2006, but I don't expect anything different, as the noise was identical to the last location where I had overhead "neighbors" in a wood frame construction building. Even concrete constructed buildings were also "capable" of transmitting significant amounts of "neighbor noise" as I came to learn. It is the current number one noisestalking method, and there is no way the sickos are going to give that up for the sake of appearances in their on/off game of pretend.

As part of the above thought stalking and enforced restlessness the perps also dry out my mouth, so I am constantly rewetting it as another incursion abatement activity. As always, what is the matter with these people that they cannot face they have significantly messed up at least twice: traumatizations and their consequent color "problems" and secondly, the allowance of ingestion of pollutants that over time, cause unpredictable paramagnetic activity in one's body.
(If one is a perp irradiating the victim with magnetic energy which is the case). I just don't get it, then again, I am the last to know about my circumstances.

And also, I am mind-controlled to complain vocally at the louder noise incursions (as if the floor were hit with a hammer), which usually include a minor zapping component to really stir me up. And the perps were ready for that; as I was doing so, a toroidal pulse 2' diameter came at me from the ceiling. I don't always catch all the voicemorphing now, but I wouldn't be surprised if the perps hadn't included this in the harassment mix as well. There must be a better name for "sleep" in these circumstances, as I am not allowed to sleep until at least the first hour of having me toss and turn, aka head flipping. Call it "prone time" perhaps, which I suspect has its own technical challenges for the perps for all their noise tracking of me before and when I am in bed. They have in the past positioned operatives to sleep precisely overhead of me in other locations, though I doubt this is the current arrangement now.

And later in this applied "restlessness", the perps put on a hiccuping sound that effectively encircled me by varying in its source location. I have never heard of anyone hiccupping so loud and being able to move about so readily. This was past midnight no less.

And another minor detail for me, but I am sure that the perps spent months of planning on this one; a new bag of corn flakes was begun, the bread loaf was finished up and a new bag of coffee was begun all this morning. It is simply amazing that the juvenile level mentality perps expend this amount of effort on timing the completion or start of foodstuffs for one meal. And more amazing, is that the normal golden yellow corn flakes were converted to a light brown sometime overnight, as they were not that color when I bought them, and the product consistency is always top notch for the Lifestream brand of breakfast cereals. But, they wouldn't let me buy the brown colored gluten free Mesa Mix instead of the corn flakes two days ago, owing to the ubiquitous "stock shortage". Fucking absurd that any entity would govern anyone like this and still keep this game up of pretending to not being there. For the most part, and possibly by design, it is written on the faces of the shills I deal with, though the more regular ones, which I take to be operatives, are better at faking their facial expressions, possibly by mind control as well.

And opening the bag of coffee wasn't without the juvenility being expressed to greater degree; they took the occasion to have the cut off plastic seal flex and then flick coffee grounds onto many surfaces, and in doing so, cover some very improbable trajectories. The coffee obsession of the perps continues in one form or another; operatives on my ass when I buy it at the store, then later in lieu of them, a stocking cart loaded with brown boxes at the coffee display. It is just plain fucking tiresome and tired.

A dull day all told; a shut-in day where I didn't have the need to go out shopping, after "catching up" to the enforced "forgets" of the week. And being shut-in a 8x10' room is truly depressing.

There have been plenty of noise incursions; the most noticeable is the frat house like exits or entrances flurries where a herd of operatives trickle out or in, every minute or so, for 10 minutes. As always, they slam the front door, and the sound and vibration (which has increased) travels to this room and shakes it. More improbabilities at every turn.

Screeching tire noise has had a recent play; this is not hot-rod country where I live, but they do find me and put on an extended rubber burning noise. Then another one follows on the heels of the first. Essentially, there is always some noise affront going on, save the suddenly-dead moments when it stops altogether, usually after a build up.

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