Friday, February 23, 2007

Pounding Overhead Again

The overhead pounding noise started up in the night again, as I had been awakened to hear it. Any unbidden or uncontrolled thoughts were immediately met with the clunking noise. After I yelled at the assholes the noises reverted to dropping objects that bounce (like marbles) and leave a decaying trail-off of noise, as if the above floor surface had been changed to promote that particular noise. And for at least the third day in succession, the overhead clunking has arrived about 30 minutes after my first logon session of the day, which follows breakfast and my morning dental hygeine routine.

The sunshine, or appropriately, natural lighting games are going on with gusto; an amazingly fast variation in sunlight and cloud cover is happening as I type this and the above paragraph, and it maybe related that I journaled the above description in my handwritten journal, and this is a repeat. The coughing and hacking has been moderate this morning, and not the usual serial parade of operatives egressing this building today. (So far).

Tongue pinching is a new harassment development this week; it "happens" when I am utlizing the rubber tipped GUM probe in my mouth, and has never happened before in all the decades of this routine. It is a small but ongoing pinching that is "attributed" to the rubber tipped device, and for whoever is watching over the perps, that is good enough. It is another case of who are they fooling as they make it quite plain that they don't need to bother with decieving me, at least for this stunt.

A coughing onset burst started outside my door in the hallway; it wouldn't be so bad if the operative had a genuine condition, but is its so contrived that my annoyance factor is immediately stoked. Probably the game plan as it is so consistent.

A now-rare round of male jocularity has erupted; it was a daily staple for a few months and then dropped off as long time readers might note. The masers and plasma games have also started up in concert with this latest round of noisestalking in the orchestrated noisescape. Another tiresome day of the same activity while the game of pretend continues.

Yesterday's explanation to the doctor about the amazing coincidence of noisestalking in the night while being awakened just to hear it at odd hours didn't seem to register as an unusual coincidence. It was deemed as an opportunity to again offer me a medication that does nothing but make me worse, in 2 of 2 attempts. It is a continuing saga of ignoring compelling and consistent information all to jerk me around some more while serving another party's interests ahead of mine. And more likely, it is face time with an Asian, something that they have long injected into my circumstances, even before the assholes sucked me into overt harassment. Not that I have any complaint about Asians, it is just that there is a concerted effort to judiciously place them, along with other demographics, into my circumstances as part of the harassment spectrum. And as noted in other blog postings, it is very likely part of the perp's brown color problem that they created for themselves owing to past fuckery and depravity in my developmental years.

The operative herd is on the move; they are successively populating the bathroom that is next to my room, flushing the toilet (not having used it) and then departing by slamming the door which in turn, serves as the excuse to shake my room. This is the post lunch digestion period, and a predictable time for them to be on the move. Like a frat house, which is also a metaphor for the collective maturity of the assholes evidenced by their stunts that have been going on for 5 years nearly.

I went to Qi Gong earlier on the same walking route as yesterday; it is my communal gangstalk with my operatives, and this time the action started in the elevator, with two other passengers and it began closing with a beeper going off in a unstoppable progression, and just at the last moment, another operative slipped through the closing doors. This is the third time in the last year of this amazing timing of slipping through the doors as they are closing, and somehow not set them off to open again. More never-befores. Said operative made a big deal out of getting out first, on the wrong floor, and then backing in to me as he "figured it out".

Thankfully the Qi Gong class is only a half hour; there were plentiful plasma toroids projecting off the circular fittings on the wall, a ventilation plate and a sensor looking device of some kind. Nice nested concentric circles, growing toroids displaced from the actual source, and conveniently behind the instructor. There were other straight beams flitting about and the odd maser coming directly at me from the floor. And everyone else plays pretend, as if they weren't there. It is a class of 15 to 20, and most of them are regulars, or at least as I know them. I got the various color exposures, and the dude beside me just happened to have the same colored sweater as the jacket I wore on the street, placed aside for Qi Gong. It would seem, based on past experience, he was some kind of reference for that color, as I would have still been "glowing" the olive drab color from wearing my coat. Or, at least, that is my theory based on observations, as they like to emulate colors of clothing that I have on, or just took off me. Similarly, as a passenger in automobiles; they like to keep the doors and trunk open as I pass by parked vehicles, and very often the driver or passenger is loitering about, feigning to retrieve something from the vehicle.

Overhead clunking has arrived for the first time this afternoon and is coincident with me reading about the despicable Jose Padilla case in the US where he has been detached from his environment by way of sensory deprivations for 3.5 years and is no longer in a fit state to aid his defence. This is another story of illegal incarceration and possible torture that has gone on for too long and also has all the makings of being an "accidently on purpose" stunt, possibly to serve some higher objective that us mortals are unaware of. It fits the pattern, that being the Guantanamo Bay prisoners, and the so-called rendition incarceration and torture on the road. In my world, I don't call three near identical events at the hands of one perpetrator, in this case, the US Government under Pres. G. W. Bush, a coincidence. There is a pattern here, and apart from creating duress for the subjects, and possible color clothing energetics assay games, also mentioned in past blogs, I don't know why the US Government has taken this repressive turn. What I do know is that I routinely get rounds of noise flurries/noisestalking whenever I read about this subject matter, the overhead clunking being but one example. Call it perp stalking bait for now.

After I take a piss and come back to this blog, what happens? Why the perps have darkened down a corner of this LCD display just to piss me off. The masers and plasma activity is extra energetic upon my return, which includes the presence of the fuzzy ball masers in a matched formation pair, travelling in a vertical zig zag toward me. Such is my life.

Another zapping coincident with an overhead clunking, one designed to piss me off enough to yell at the assholes. It was as if a large marble was dropped immediately overhead. And what was the coincident event, always a tip-off as to what the assholes are up to? I was reading about a tactical nuclear warhead weapon of the 1960's called the Davy Crockett. Not that I follow this topic often, but when I do, I have a band of sick assholes playing games who lack to gumption to show up and explain themselves. What a way to run a billion dollar per year (my estimate) operation, by harassing innocent citizens while hiding in a closet. Fucking sick.

The tea with chocolate time is done and my visual field has a variety of masers in it, both the filamentous (aka "trails") kind and the fuzzy black balls travelling in formation. Sometimes bright point sources of light appear to dither my reading on this LCD display. And some sudden shadow flashes across the room as I repair a typos of the same letter in two places.

I saw a weirder than normal-weird circumstance today on my Qi Gong journey. A single file of traffic crossed at the light in front of me, and there were six vehicles in file, all silver-grey or white (very similar grey scale tones) and they all had the near identical front to them, even if not the same models or manufacturers. There were SUV's, minivans and sedans, and all had the same hood profile and same rake angle of windshield and hood. It was at least the second instance of a long file of same or similar grey scale vehicles passing by. Earlier, when heading to Qi Gong, at an well travelled intersection, there was seven white or silver grey vehicles in file, all in the right lane which was closest to me, and at that point I had just turned a 35 degree turn (non orthogonal intersection), I was walking over the new section of concrete the assholes laid down last week (noise then), and a blonde woman in a brown suit was walking toward me, within 6'.

She wasn't the only blonde woman dressed in brown; there were at least four more brown dressed women on my homebound leg. One who lingered at a bus stop, and then decided to walk ahead of me and was impossible to catch up to, and lo, if the bus didn't arrive at the next stop just as she was nearing it, and somehow that driver knew to stop and she got on.

The next stop was a certain pharmacy store with a respectable food section, and since I was out of chocolate, and since I am constantly mind-fucked into "needing it", the communal "I" headed to that direction to get some as it is European chocolate for $1.00g, a good deal. And amazingly, there was a woman outside with one of the drug store's shopping baskets which are never taken outside, and she was standing there outside with her many purchases, looking at something in her hand. That was absurd enough, and lo, if she hadn't returned and was stationed at the checkout in "serious" discussion with the cashier, for whom I was waiting. Anyhow, this absurd act finally got it together and took off again with the shopping basket, allowing me to be next. Meanwhile, all the in-store gangstalkers assembled around me while I waited, and in particular, the whiney kid act, and the mother with the shopping cart with a substantial brown box inside it. (The metal and wood/brown combination is very commonly arranged around me).

Then other brown dressed women joined the gangstalk fray; one paralleling me on the other side of the street, then later, one from a side street who timed herself and the large stroller to be getting in front of me, rudely it seemed. I finally walked past her, she of a fast pace even with the stroller. Later, a fourth brown coated gangstalker was ahead of me, then crossed the street and paralleled me. It isn't anywhere normal to encounter so many pedestrians on this route, never mind the color combinations.

Another round of over-faked coughing and hacking from the never-get-better corps. At least the coughers at Qi Gong get better, and spread the coughing load around to other operatives.

Extra augmented lock clatter noise with a coincident zapping, and then the asshole on lock noise walks past my closed door and into the bathroom next to me for a do-nothing toilet flush and a gangstalking (standing there I assume).

The zapping is still the perp's big play, and it is pissing me off as there is some kind of extra impact of an inconsequential noise. And the coicident factor was deleting a website from my Bookmarks, at that exact moment of the mouse click.

The assholes also zap me when I get my haircut. When the stylist's shears or comb touch my head there is some kind of added visceral zapped sensation, even if the noise wasn't much. It is fucking sick and depraved to target anyone with electomagnetic, or other, energies for any reason, especially when they have done absolutely nothing to incurr such vile treatment.

Some relative quiet has descended once the post dinner serial sucession of operatives in the next door bathroom ceased along with the the commensurate front door slamming and room shaking. And suddenly, while reading about Michel Caine (I had read his autobiography when my PC was taken out three weeks ago), the perps pull a sudden overhead clunking with me again yelling at the assholes to end this depravity of noise and/or thoughtstalking. There is no peace over the most seeming benign activities and subjects. It is another example of life under the microscope in this Feckless New World I have been dumped into.

A firework went off at the very moment I moved my feet forward and it came with a coincident zapping, a faked reaction to the bang. And the perps cut me in on seeing the trail of sparkling and the small burst of light. One Halloween night per year isn't enough it seems.

And in that vein, the perps have upped the ante on a current annoyance, and that is stroboscoping me with light while outside in the daylight. Their game was to do this where a tree's branches cast shadows upon me, in the wintertime mostly, and the shadow effect was co-opted and conveyed as an annoying stroboscopic assault. I could usually counter this by moving my head away from the light, and temporarily acting like a perp and walking one direction and looking in another. But yesterday and today, the assholes did not bother with the cover story of "tree branch shadow" for the choppy lighting effect, and launched the stroboscopic assault when and where they wanted to.

The plasma games are also getting silly; anytime I get back from an outing, the hallway in this supposed rooming house is chock full of plasma, like a thick fog which limits the visibility. When I got back from yoga yesterday they were placing red ovoid spots in front of me, and over my white fridge top where they could be seen directly. It was annoying, and they have done worse with this particular harassment method, but it always raises the question; why are they pretending to fool someone by extensive cover story development, and then at other times so utterly blatant, albeit infrequently? That, I cannot answer.

More forced coughing of me this time, and about the same time some whistling started up in the adjacent parking lot. More strange coincidences especially when I don't have a cold.

The day is nearly done, and enough has been transpired to call this a posting.

This is chocolate and tea digestion time, and it got the noisestalking honor of been given the glass bottle bashing noise, that is still going on, now over a minute or so of a putative resident who collects bottles from the trash for their return value. The fact that he can collect so many in a day, and bashes the bottles at anytime of the day or night, blows his cover. And, the crockery bashing that also erupts in the next door bathroom, suggests that the perps are able to use the noise vibrations in some kind of analytical way.

Ditto on account of the noisy motorcycle noise that also fired up, these too are a all-day ingredient in the noise mix that follows me everywhere I go. At the last residence the perps even arranged a recycling depot nearby, and it continues to bash the glass bottles all the time when I am shopping in its proximity. These assholes are years ahead of figuring out what to do next. Very little is serendiptitous.

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