Sunday, December 03, 2006

The Herd of Operatives on the Move

After I got back from the store on a Chicken Run, there has been a serial exodus from this building, which is apparent from the games that go on by having the front door closure "seem" to shake the building and especially my room 20' away.

The perps put on two firemen in their on duty dark navy blue uniforms; there is a continuing game on as to what color clothes the gangstalkers are wearing, and these dudes, if real firemen, would be "charged up" in that color. Sometimes I wonder if the Guantanamo Bay prison isn't for orange color clothing experimentation; detection of its full influence on the body's energetics. Time will tell, when the trains of red color gangstalking vehicles are over, and there is no other apparent colorstalking, the prisoners of Guantanamo Bay may get released. Bizzare? True enough, but don't forget you heard it here first.

If there is power washing activity nearby, it must be Sunday. True enough, 3 of the last 4 Sundays has come with this noise and activity. There is no industrial activity near here, and it is hard to imagine a single homeowner being so diligent as to undertaking this for the hours it goes on. All part of the noisescape, including neighboring "residents" coughing on the trigger words that are selected for today. The protracted and decidedly silly overplaying of the coughing wouldn't cut it in an amateur play, hence they like to have me detect the possibly genuine coughing from the faux coughing. Anyhow, it is very tiresome that this act goes on, never mind blogging about it.

The overhead pounding noise cum thoughtstalking is on again; this act came to visit in the night again, just when I had been awakened to hear it. Normally I don't wake at all in the night; of late it has been every night and to listen to the overhead pounding at each thought not planted by the assholes.

Tea and chocolate are over; the perps put on a big show for this each day; the herd on the move, loud mufflered vehicles revving while I poured the hotwater in the teapot, outside banter while eating chocolate and the inevitable overhead clunking noise, usually targeted to uncontrolled thoughts. Now a drumming group is in the building opposite, and someones' shovel clanking in the parking lot is keeping time with it.

And a special parked vehicle configuration outside for the mere imbibing of tea; four silver grey and three dark metallic red vehicles. That was the full extent of the observable vehicles, just two colors. Nothing new there, and every so often the perps get bold and put on a blatant exhibition of their color coordination games. They even defocussed the camera when I was taking a picture of it.

And I will be going to visit my parents for this evening; dinner and family gangstalk so I suspect that is the reason the perps put a silver grey Ford Escape in the adjacent parking lot all day so far. My parents have a light metallic brown vehicle of the same make and model, and I am sure there is some kind of transferable benefit from one to the other. As I write this, the overhead clunking has arrived exactly over my head, and it too is an example of no cover story, as there is no human behavioral habits to account for it, especially an every nightime occurence when I happen to be awake. Or awakened rather, in preparation to hear it.

I am back at my room after a stayover at my parents' place. The usual family gangstalking and my father playing with his feet again. (As i write this the glass bottle clanging has started up, and I don't know what the source could be, unless another bottle recycling plant has erupted, like at the past residence location. When I got out of my parents' vehicle, the perps had a blonde woman carrying a 3' x 2' glass mirror right behind me as I was getting my gear out of the tailgate window. And of course she had to stand there to wait for traffic on this residental street. One traffic vehicle was a sliver grey Volvo 244 that "happened" to pull in behind me, and park 6' away. From no traffic around before I turned the vehicle around to two vehicles on top of me, and one executing the same turn that I did in the presence of the Volvo. (The silver grey color is that of my former Volvo 245 wagon).

The vehicular choreography is intense, not to mention a rush hour level exodus in both directions (800 mobile vehicles, not counting parked ones) at 1030h on a Monday when driving my parents' vehicle back to my place. For some reason they usually pick me up or drop me off now, where it was mostly by bus, though in better weather. (I am not complaining).

Enough to call this a posting and suffer the standardized hassle in making lunch.
Noisestalked Words du Jour
lunch, noisestalked, Rumsfeld, cancer (a big push on this word this week), infrared, aether

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