Saturday, January 06, 2007

Backpacking My Shoes

Another big event for the perps unfolded today, always determinable by the gangstalking density, either in the form of ambulatory operatives and shills or vehicles. I am due to sign up for Qi Gong and felt obliged to retrieve my fitness clothing from storage at my brother's place in town. He phoned this morning and timed his arrival for post-shaving after "my" 10.5 hour "sleep", two and a half hours over normal.

The perps are obsessive over footwear and related clothing such as socks; my father is constantly messing with his slippers, socks and feet when watching TV when I am there, and there has been gangstalker footwear removal activity in mid-street in my proximity. Related to this, my runners needed to be found after four months in storage, and then packed in my backpack via bus to my place. The perps were all over me again, especially downtown, and put on some ugly hairdos and atrocious clothing color combinations for me to see. They even closed the rear bus doors on me as I exited, not waiting for me to clear them.

Later when doing shopping on the way back, they had the fire department assholes parading through the grocery store when I stopped by to buy a few more items, the backpack on my back with the runners in them. There is something about having men in uniform that they like to try out on me every so often. And it maybe significant that they arrived in a yellow vehicle, their fire truck, to continue on their yellow theme. And the perps even forced new shoelaces for my runners as one runner "somehow" lost its shoelace in storage.

Follow the plasma dot home; that was the theme for some 20 minutes or so of time where a plasma dot of some 2" was placed in central vision 4' in front of me to "accompany me" walking back and for the next 10 minutes of time when in my room. It started out where a lead-ahead ambulatory gangstalker in a long dark red raincoat was 30' in front of me, and anytime I looked at the sidewalk and not at her coat, the red colored plasma dot arrived in its place, and led in front of me all the way back. It also changed color a few times; green was also apparent when outside, and when in my room it changed to blue. This is a longer version of what happened yesterday with a 15" horizonatal plasma beam.

I have finished my tea and chocolate amidst another heavy gangstalking and noisestalking. This is more of the brown chocolate consumption time which they so like me to engage in. For the past three months, "I" spent $110/month on chocolate, and $200/month on food. And I know who controls the chocolate urges as I had one spell when I couldn't stand the smell of it. Then that "disappeared" and it was chocolate all the time, and has been nearly everyday since.

The ladder patrol came for the post-tea and chocolate digestion time, the "roofers" putting up another ladder again, even if there isn't any legit need for it. And a full house (approx. 12) of gangstalking vehicles in the adjacent parking lot outside my room, and even if there are stalls availible, that wasn't good enough for the idling white diesel pickup which sat in the center of the lot, blocking all egress. That is, at least two minutes of idle time, and then it parked underneath my window for the latter part of chocolate consumption. At least five rounds of room shaking were also scripted during this time. This has to be, if I my suppositions are correct, one of the bigger daily under-the-microscope events going. I even had the overhead clunking and squeaking, as well as a train of "residents" using the bathroom next door. All this because of some gutless assholes who won't fess up to their nonconsensual human experimentation games.

When my brother picked me up and asked his usual vague "how is everything?" question, I told him that the frypan was sliding around by itself on the hot plate (true) and there were like activities of food flicking which were not attributable to my actions. He goes "oh yeah" and that was the end of his curiousity. In other words, it was an answer he expected. It is all one big joke as he sees it.

This is the post-dinner time, and remains a high gangstalk event. The next door bathroom visitors that don't do anything but flush the toilet and the ongoing tromping noise upstairs. The room shaking should start real soon.

More food games; the guacamole acts as it a solid piece, following the knife and sliding on the plate. The ham is an excuse to have hanging chads that re-form after I have cut a piece free. These games are getting more blatant, as whoever they think they are fooling is applying less scrutiny than before. Masers and plasma beams are more common in my central vision.

True enough, the herd of operatives is egressing the building and shaking my room as part of it, the putative source being the front door.

As predicted, the room shaking began shortly after dinner, and was then followed by various "residents" jabbering in the hallway. Now it is back to cough-stalking; anytime there is a new web page, reading of a new name (musician), the display of their photograh (or portion) etc. All of those get cough-stalked routinely and sometimes overhead clunking or floorboard squeaking is substituted. And when I viewed one photograph of Charlotte Martin that I thought was especially flattering, the perps caused the sink to bubble with attendant water noise. Not the first time, but is has never been so directly tied to one event.

My keystrokes are extensively noisestalked; the moment of depressing the key and the augmented noise, is when a room shaking is sometimes scripted. Similarly, when I save a musician's name and album review to a alphabetized directory name, a room shaking is scripted for that very instant of clicking the mouse to bookmark under the letter.

More games of jabbing me in the back or ass as if a pin was pushed into me. As above, the timing is reserved for the instant I click on a web page, usually a performer or film, or when these are bookmarked. The overhead clunking has arrived to noisestalk me as I attempt to proof read this blog posting, and the perps make sure that I am totally irritated by this.

One more thing I learned just now; I have no choice of syntax if the perps see fit. I was swearing at them for jabbing me in the ass and they had me repeat the word in two different contexts. I was attempting to think of another word, but they would not let me. Fucking sick that I cannot swear at the assholes creating this depravity unless using the scripted vocabulary. And who did the assholes learn this one from? Very likely me over a lifetime of covert mind-control and energetics assay activity until they went overt in 2002.

Time to blog off; my proof reading is getting sabotaged, and the indolent outlook is being planted on me.

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