Friday, November 24, 2006

Spray the Halls with Air Freshener

It is spray time again, as in hallway air "freshening", and that also means running the odor up my nose in short order. It is amazing how fast this smell creeps into my room and under my nose. And before that, the frat house level entrances and exits have been playing for noise and vibration purposes, never mind the acute timing of the door slamming games that are going on.

This broke out while reading an email about the now deceased Russian spy who has being playing for week in a lingering illness from some kind of radioactive substance. The hospital bound image of this skinhead figure in hospital green is meant to be an enduring image for some reason. (The skinhead haircut is a prominent gangstalker motif). And then my TI correspondent mentions this story today for some reason, as if we are in the same boat as that victim. And when one considers the noise creating antics that are going on as I type this, as well as typo sabotage, it doesn't take much to figure out the entire event has been stage managed down to the last maser and plasma flash.

And relief now comes from the protracted sabotage and consequent (mind-controlled) enragement
games that go on when making tortillas from scratch. All the while, external noise goes on, synchronized with my vocalized complaints and annoyance, and in the interim, there is an all-quiet order going on. It is one of those surreal moments, the on-off noise, and its esquisite timing with the same words that "I" use to complain about the olive oil flicking and spotting, the lateral flying chopped chicken pieces, the tapenade that won't spread by my application, the cheese pieces that flip and flop when cut off with the slicer, the tortillas that rip by themselves (just touch them and watch), and the coup de gras, the chicken pieces that I later found underneath the hot plate burner.

All the while, the adjacent parking lot becomes extra active, the frat-house equivalent of the hallway egress goings-on in this building. There is an entire temporal, spatial and chromatic level to the perp sponsored activities, of which I am the last to know. One usually sees clothing colors on ambulatory gangstalkers that are identical to nearby vehicles, parked or mobile. Meanwhile, as I type this, the entire room has darkened down, and the rain noise has started up.

One big harassment focus is the separation of objects; whether by cutting, slicing, spreading, breaking etc. And the perps like me to see all phases of it and will have ripped the tortillas in a fashion so I am to see this crack like appearence, instead of a simple rip line which it was to begin with. The spreading of the tapenade on the tortilla begets extra noisestalking, and likewise for the sucession of cooked red onion (after it is flicked about by remotely applied perp energetics fuckery), then cooked chopped chicken, and finally, the cheese slices laid over top. Every part of that is this sick minded game of action at a distance provocations, "me" voicing my complaints where my voice morphs at each occurence, outside simutaneous noise, and the comings and goings of vehicles in some kind of color ordered sequence. Sometimes the driver and passengers of the arriving vehicle are not the same as those who are departing in the same vehicle. Anyhow, as I see it, it is more depravity in more forms for more harassment and psychopathic sadism. And these are the assholes who have most of this town convinced they are the good guys. It doesn't take much to look and see they will crap on anyone they deem in their way for whatever the perverse reasons are, of which only they know.

A rare visit by an fruit fly "erupted" which serves as a signature for "under deeper investigation"
and then it does a kamikaze into my face. On come the masers, outside natterers, a fresh gust of wind through the 3" window opening and so it goes. A constant train of noise, as well as the visual phenomenon, never mind the insect "arrivals". As before, the perps have me off fruit and there are no sources for the flies to be attracted. Earlier, and for two days in sucession, the perps have had a fruit fly coursing over the bathtub when I am about to take my shower. Hard to assign that to random causes, but no doubt some asshole in my orbit will.

The perps had me reading a long article on fusion a half hour ago, and it was the source of many noise stalkings, especially from outside and all the parking lot and egress action. Part of that to is the perpetual comings and goings of the loading and unloading of the trucks that are associated with the nearby womens charity used clothing operation. And as part of that, the helper dudes shuttle 6' long racks of clothing across the street and back. One of the operatives that was inserted into my life in Everett and Seattle had a penchant for used clothing, and used clothing may have something to do with the entire harassment spectrum. More of the who cares activities as far as I am concerned; the only thing I want is these assholes gone for good, and I cannot see why that cannot be accomplished as I write this.

But being left to be doing anything for over 10 minutes is asking to be harassed in the minds of the sick assholes who keep this up. So what do they do? Why they pop up a dialog box from another window/browser session with a choice that has to be made. My fingers were nowhere near the keyboard at that moment, so even finger redirection fuckery wasn't applied. Nothing new there, save the degree of blatant intrusion.

The herd of operatives is on the move, coming and going from this so-called rooming house. I made a trip to the grocery store earlier, and what a mighty gangstalk it was; and most interestingly, I got my black person gangstalker outside of my room before I set off, instead of the usual last gangstalker test that the perps put me through. I was exposed to most f the gangstalkers' demographics, the blonde woman, red heads, open mouther (and tongue hanging out), Asian, the plastic bag people (one carrying a thick roll of plastic film), and a profusion of mid life males wandering the streets, including 3x before gangstalker, one who has emulated a Saanich municipality driver in past acts. Today, he was just another of the 200 or so males who "happen" to be out on a Friday weekday walking the streets. There are no major business locations at this end of town, and the number of them "wandering" about just doesn't add up ffor this neighborhood.

Their operatives/gangstalkers weren't just at the locations in the store in I was headed, but there were also swarms of them between locations, with an octengenarian's "friendly" banter thrown in, and me not allowed to understand what she said. I have had my cognition fucked with my whole life, 52 years worth, and I am in no mood to take any more of it, knowing that it is dynamically applied and managed. Been there, done that assholes.

And in composing the above, some of the intended syntax was purged from recall. This is the kind of interference that is daily, all day and anytime the assholes chose to fuck with me more than their baseline level.

But the perps are putting on more brown dressed gangstalkers, and have also upped the numbers of those with coffee cups on duty. This suggests progress on their biggest problem color, though it is of no consequence to me, I don't need excuses I need to be left alone.

Now the overhead ceiling is being pounded with seeming heavy objects, the same act as Mr.Eviction Fiction had before he departed. And how does one get two identical noise making tenants in succession, with the same traits of making noise before mealtimes, in the night awake times, as well as noise tracking me as I type? (Mirroring noise as I make it with my keystrokes).
It is easy to answer when one realizes that this was done before where there was large furniture overhead; it is made from some kind of projecting noise device, just as it always has.

Another meal, and another round of intensified harassment, even if reheated tortillas. All to keep me vocalizing in the succession of voice morphed changes that the perps have lined up for me. Outside, the perps have lined up two black vehicles side by side, then a white, and then a mid grey vehicle under the sodium arc lamp in the adjacent parking lot. On the closest side to my room, another black vehicle and then a daring mid red vehicle. It is unusual for the perps to have red anything near me, let alone a sustained exposure. Perhaps it is easier when under the sodium lamp, as the color is muted.

They also played games in back lighting a stand-there stalker when out earlier. He was of some mixed race and the perps dimmed down the light around him, and I could only barely make out his face. And he wasn't back lit directly as he was standing against a brick red wall. It is all part of the sick game of having me under the microscope, and worse yet, making sure I know that.

And more overhead pounding at the very moment of reading a name on the TT Brown Forum. Then the in-hallway chatting starts up and then the front door pounding that hasn't changed any even if the door and jamb were fixed.

Forced coughing is another perp stunt that is increasing more often of late. If I am really unlucky the assholes will have me sneeze at least twice, then immediately cough, and then back to sneezing again. Nothing like this has ever happened before, so it would seem to be more mind-control games to reveal the contents of my mouth.

An outside only noise flurry is on; the constant thumping of vehicle doors, nearby chatterers, a strange noise on the stairwell, and vehicle egress (start up, arrivals and departures). But this rooming house is under and all-quiet order, having been "busy" earlier.

And the perps are allowing me to expand my vocabulary; instead of "this" and "that" terms, they let me (or mind-control me) into using descriptive nouns, though not always the correct ones. This vocabulary fucking has been going on since I first learned to speak I reckon. I have a 94 percentile level vocabulary and yet am impoverished in speech. That never made sense until the entire harassment and mind-control jerkaround scenario came to be understood.

More overhead, exactly overhead, pounding and zapping is playing as I read about ELF fields and these little understood cosmic forces. And the perps make sure I get resoundingly pissed with these incursions which have been going on for over two months, and by the hand, supposedly of two independent "residents". Hardly, when this has gone on for years in any location where I have overhead "neighbors", and that has been close to six years. More typo sabotage, time to wrap this one up.

It is of significant interest to understand what is the attraction of street types to hang around in the dark beneath my window, chatting as they do, and are, as I type this. There is no reason that I can think of, save the equivalent happening in the hallway which there is less of. So it would seem that the perps like to work on my left side and then later, apply the same noise and activities on my right side. The cool dudes outside also have brought their skateboards and are flipping them around. Not only does it convey noise activity, but there is something that the perps like about those surfaces of metallic flakes that offer a non-slip grip for the feet. Once they had an Asian man hugging a skate board the entire bus journey, 30 minutes or so, and he looked the most unlikely skateboarder going.

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