Monday, November 06, 2006

The First Feral Family of Gangstalking

Thats my family and I am the stalkee, victim, Targeted Individual or whatever one wishes to describe my marginalized existence where the entire city seems to be trained up and even the weather has curious anomalies in coordination with my activities, mudane as they are. As I don't have a job, and am "disabled", I have all the time in the world to be jerked around, deliberately mind-controlled, noisestalked and gangstalked and the rest of it.

As it was a visit night to my parents, the abettors of this venality, and a stay over, these once per week events become a feeding frenzy for the perp action that circulates around me, never mind the feints and bullshit that spews forth from my mother. My father has, or is playing, the dementia act so communication is minimal, but he often pulls gangstalk moves in the house. (Pointless standing around, crackling papers, playing with his socks, shoes and feet).

I am getting constantly besieged with typos today, and the perps are also putting on another form of harassment, causing me to sweat profusely when there is no need whatsoever as I am currently comfortable with the heating arrangements. Their operatives have been scurrying in the hallway in waves, and have made an excessive number of visits to the next door bathroom to at least slam the door and create noise and vibration as I type this.

The PC has now taken to making extra noise as if the hard drive is being accessed all the time, and the fan noise also has taken on a clunking sound. The perps have me in an irritable mood today to ensure that I explode at all their provocations, even if the lesser ones, like typos that take some five corrections to fix owing to their finger control.

Post dinner, having made tortillas from scratch, the number one event that get harassed, and this time into a screaming rage at the assholes for dumping the olive oil bottle on the floor, digging my fingers into the red onion as I was trying to cut it, turning the chopping board on me as I was using it, and a few others to wind me up into a considerably angry state. Four years of making the same fucking food, and they are harassing me over every last detail, down to where and how I place the cheese slices. The perps have been especially beserk today, and it would seem that they are attempting to leverage my exposure time to the First Feral Family this morning. They have kept me in an irritiable mood all day, and this was no doubt their highlight of today's venality.

Whatever their energetics assay difficulties, none of it is my problem, so why cannot I get a perp representative in here to explain what is going on? It is fucking sick, venal and wicked. Hell on earth, every fucking day, with this fucking city dedicated to the cause as well. Pay me out now and stay the fuck out of my life for fucking good. Quislings get to do double my time of being harassed. The fuckers have gone way sick and don't particularly give a shit that they have spent >52 years shadowing, the last four of which in overt harassment, and are still at it. Shameless, heinous sickos.

Another round of noisestalking through the earmuffs including installing another pair of yappers outside my window for half an hour. This in combination with the hallway walk-bys tromping by my door, and the front door slamming flurries, as if the operatives were headed out the frat house for a class. And the perps did let me read online for the past hour though they have added some kind of maser that can track my eye precisely to my reading rate and word focus. The maser dynamically follows my eye movements, usually one eye at a time. And there are emanations that also come forth, epecially if I encounter familiar topics.

A rough day, and no let up, not unusual for a Monday, where they like to set the tone for the week. Even this paragraph is being sabotaged with typos, usually ones of the letters of the next word, even if it hasn't been formulated in mind. This would be another never-before occurence, as most of "my" (caveat; it may too have been managed) past typos are of adjacent keyboard keys.

And still plenty of emanations off this LCD panel; perhaps it will be books to read instead of online activity, though I am sure the perps have that contingency planned for, if I am not apeing what they planted in my mind in the first place. They have been shooting mild but sharp pains in my ass and feet from time to time, and letting them persist for 10 to 20 seconds, enough to make me shuffle in my chair, possibly their objective, if the continued front door slammings and consequent (per managed vibrations) reverberations in my room are anything to go by.

Enough for a post, today's sick minded adversity has been plenty.

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