More Supplier Sabotage

This blog was one of two sabotaged itself yesterday (now 10-13-2006 as I write this). It was written up and saved, then "disappeared", poof, gone; and no forced keystrokes to "cause" it to happen either.

My cell phone service continues to get the short end; still no resolution of a 10 day long problem of my access code to voice mail being blocked (changed on me). It is now > 2 days since I emailed the problem in for the second time, and no response yet. Methinks the perps are wanting me to do a "partial relocation"; that is, have me change phone numbers again, what would be the third in two months, after forcing me to give up the one I have had for three years. That would entail informing >50 parties as to what my new phone number, even if not physically relocating. All part of the relentless depraved merry-go-round that plays out in many forms all day long.

And also, phone by a cable service costs $55/month, and there is no twisted pair service in this location. Anyhow, this topic is also getting masered along with faux coughing from the hallway (i.e. noisestalked), more tipoffs that this is serving an ulterior purpose.

The second topic of sabotage is about getting ballpoint pens by the dozen, which I usually do, as I journal this nightmare in handwritten journals that offer more relative "freedom", as more entrenched perspectives as to the true motivations of the players can be noted without possibly having to justify all of it here. And it "so happens" that Victoria's long established stationers don't sell pens by the box, or at least downtown when I am there. So, an international big box store stationary firm who shares the initials for Over Dose does, and delivers web orders locally. But not for me this time as it turns out.

Not even arriving on the first promised day, and not even phoning to say why. Then I offer another day this week and they still don't come. Then another email to state my annoyance and a deadline for a third attempt, and no answer of any kind. I wonder if they even bothered to charge my credit card as it is clear in retrospect that they had no intention of delivering.

The age old question as to "why did this happen to me" has been answered: because there are agencies composed of directed juveniles whose job it is to wreak havoc and trash specific target's lives for the shear hell of it, and who have god-like powers to do so, which are applied from a distance. For any one else who aids and abets, untold riches will flow, to the degree that they have helped. It is my assertion that the compensation side of the harassment business is almost as large as the harassment technology and operations. There are in my estimation, between 10 to 50 thousand shills who have been in on this life-trashing exercise, not counting the operatives and their relations who often help out.

My case counsellor asked about stress and I said it was constant all the time; who is doing what around me and for what purpose, and how can I tell the difference between the stunts, acts and legitmate activity? And then when at "home", I am constantly assaulted by unconventional energies applied from a distance that not only control my mind and physical actions, but any responses to them as well. I am constantly on guard to be who I know myself to be, and am being potentially violated at every turn in any physical or thought endeavor. Even typing this is beset with a greater typo rate than I have ever had in my life. Anyhow, the topic of stress didn't last very long, and was likely another "elicitation" conversation/word dropping that is all too common with the non-TI crowd.

And very often, these perp obsession/objective words get telegraphed by a plasma or maser display while that very word came to mind and/or being keyed in. True to form, the word "stress" is a high noise and light phenomenon stalked word. Go figure.

More sick minded abuse from the premier covert sickos of all time. I wonder if the abettors really know all the seemingly associated people trashing events that go on, and the resultant mayhem. Somehow, I doubt. (Cue noisestalking of the same kind, clunking and squeaking floors, (even concrete ones) that has repeated in the last three locations I have lived).