Thursday, February 22, 2007

A Two Outing Day

Two outings in one day is a big deal for the perps as they often script no events for shut-in days and have me suffer from (or create) cabin fever by the next day.

It was yoga at 1130h and a doctor's appointment at 1430h. The yoga went well, the main harassment events were plasma beams all over the place, some masers, wobbling me when balanced on one foot, and the litany of gangstalk action that I can see outside, through the windows. In the last-mentioned case, there was the usual parade of men mostly, with some vehicular action and sirens going off once the window was opened. A red dressed person retrieving items from a red vehicles's trunk was one such orchestrated feint.

The instructor's bright red hair has been toned down some I noticed, quite possibly for perp reasons as they frequently plant red haired shills or operatives around me, and have been doing this since high school, though I did not know it to be orchestrated then. Another of those not-my-problem situations that I am forced to participate in. Not that I have anything personal about redheads, it is not my favorite hair color and I have no reason why. It could be related to the perp's traumatizations in early development years, or it could well be one of the created aversions their irradiations (of my brain) created at that time. In a past blog I mentioned there was a red hair aversive Asian woman I had read about in a memoir, and so it is likely there are some specific brain energies and/or locations where that particular phobia is retained.

After lunch I set off to the doctor's appointment by walking there, a 25 minute city street walk each way. At one juncture, there were three gangstalking parties up to 100' ahead of me, and each was wearing green, as was I. My jacket is olive drab, and there was a woman with a brighter olive green jacket ahead of me, then a woman with a near olive drab backpack, and beyond them, a party of two, one in olive drab and the other in a aqua green.

As I walked beside a main traffic artery there was 300 to 500 gangstalking vehicles arranged and coordinated on my walk as if a near permanent rush hour was in progress,- not this city. The perps went nuts on red again, packing four deep red colored vehicles together with a cyclist in front of them, wearing a red helmet at one location.

When I returned on the same route, they arranged for the first three gangstalk parties to be wearing shades of green, more grass green this time, and not the olive green variants to my outbound journey leg.

I had my glass bottle basher enroute as well; the vagrant with shopping cart and loads of plastic bags act again, this time with some "finds" to serve as the glass to bash together as I approached this vagrant act. The perps must keep the same props somewhere, and trot out different vagrants, as some have been women even.

As this is the post-dinner digestion period and the dusk onset time, both being drivers in being noisestalked, masered and plasma-ed; this is a double-up harassment time. The lead footed hallway walkers with jingling keys are making pass-bys, slamming the front door and shaking this room as a putative cause, and then there are outside vehicles brakes squeaking, loud mufflers resonating and other noises. Now the smell jamming into my nose has begun, and the assholes don't like it much when I blow out the smell as they come back with another snort for me.

Today's doctors' appointment wasn't the usual frisson, he was actually calm instead of baiting me in his setup games, though as usual, he had nothing to say to the agglomeration of red and white vehicles around me, the most inexplicable event being some six of each color at one intersection, and then again at the same intersection the next day.

The doctor's waiting room act is typically a perp stunt center, and sure enough, four gangstalkers came in around me shortly after I arrived, one to show off his vile yellow jacket. And there is also a parade of putative staff backing and forthing beyond the waiting area, and one who came, then departed for a back and forth inside of a few minutes (normal), but then somehow arrived again within a few minutes as he was exiting for the second time. He must of been on a teleport job as I cannot see how he would of got back so fast by an alternate route.

When I was walking home, the perps got into their shoe fetish by launching a pair of runners fixed together by their shoelaces onto the overhead powerlines. I always wondered when I saw this in the past as to who would be so idiotic to do that and for what purpose, especially if the runners are in good condition. Now that I know I have an army of arrangers around me all the time, it makes sense, especially when they have a fascination with shoes. Operatives and shills often look at their footwear soles in public, my shoes get unconventionally trashed to neccessitate more visits to the cobbler, the perps place their feet up on railings if availible and a whole host of games that go with configuring shoes in my proximity.

Perhaps Imelda Marcos and her 800 pairs of shoes had a hidden hand in feeding this fetish that she could afford to indulge in.

Relative quiet at last, the vibrating PC noise excepted, one of the add-ons when it was out for repair three weeks ago. This is not unusual, especially for the PC. One time it went in and when it came back there was a 3" long 1/8" vertical groove routed down the center under the on button. It was cut into the plastic front/fascia but not through as there was a sub-millimeter remaining bridge in the bottom of the groove. About a year later, when it was taken in again, the groove was cut through, leaving an open slot. Additionally, there were at least two LED lights installed, one red and the other green. I didn't have them before, and I still didn't know why they were put in. Then last year when the PC was in for a new motherboard, the perps filled the slot with a transparent plastic to reveal the colors of the LED lights they arranged behind the plastic facia. This represents over two years of progressive pissing with the plastic fascia of the PC, and no wonder they didn't want me to order a new case when the PC was rebuilt last September (2006), as it is the only original part now.

A siren cascade has been put on for me to hear; and they added in one of their absurdities. This is a 1960's siren sound, sandwiched between the current day siren noise. Plus they constantly put on a diesel engined vehicle noise into the mix. There just maybe some early childhood recall/association of that characteristic siren sound; I would of been 6 to 15 years old then. Every two months or so they add this characteristic noise.

The water dripping noise torture has started up again; this is the purported sink, where "somehow" a trickle of water supply then creates these electronic like loud dripping noise, as if I was stuck at the bottom of a deep well. This little stunt began about a month ago and comes and goes as to the degree of annoyance.

Another affronting stunt has been the arrival of various (foreign) colored crumbs that could not of developed from anything I have or did. And they can show up in the strangest of places; behind my ear, under my seat, on my coffee pot (coffee inside the vessel), and even on surfaces that I am not using at the time. One crumb this morning was mysterious enough that I picked it up with a paper towel and disposed of both in the garbage. I didn't want to know.

More shower-stalking in the next door bathroom; this is at least the third one this evening, and like the last one, it follows when I am reading some interesting story/article that is text only, and no visual web images. Curiously, anytime tonight that I use the vertical scroll to fast, the text "melts" into a blurr, unlike anything I have seen before in Windows.

Another stunt that is playing out tonight is for the perps to suck the blackness and line width consistency from the text that is on my LCD display. This game has reached more frequent levels of late, and is on par with reducing text size as well. There is a "leached out" look to all text that they somehow create, usually in mid-session on the PC. I have no idea what they are doing or what the objective is.

I got my hand whacked at lunchtime earlier today. Nothing visible contacted my hand, though I had the cheese slicer in motion and then there sensation on my left hand without the slicer causing it. I have been through one of these before in the same circumstances; the perps invoke a cut to my hand, my left thumb actually, and then go on to keep it bleeding for a while longer. And this "cut" took at least six weeks for the redness to disappear, and I am sure that was out the the goodness of their sick hearts as they do like me to have red spots on my skin.

But this time, it was two cuts 1/4" apart in two styles; one a direct puncture and the other a scrape revealing a subdermal layer which then bled. And of course I had no bandaids by dint of forward perp planning, and the steptic pencil also "became" problematic in stemming the flow for a time. And since I was needing a new roll of paper towel, why not have me stem the flow with an towel from the old roll (brown center (core) cylinder visible through last paper towel, note), and then again with the new roll? This would be a way to measure the "browness" glow that came off each of the two rolls of paper towel from the cardboard center cylinder against my blood (color).

The perps spend no end of time putting red vehicles in front of green ones, and vice versa, and are now putting red ones in front of brown colored vehicles. It seems that this little bloodletting exercise is an attempt to measure red blood and brown color interaction energetics comparable to that of their vehicle color coordination games. Or, at least this is my interpretation of what the assholes are up to, having seen innumerable brown color games to date since they let me in on them screwing my life over. Sponsoring wars and disasters isn't enough for the perps it seems, and are back to cutting my thumb with action-at-a-distance applications, and now I get the pleasure of watching it heal 10 times slower than normal, all to play red color games again.

And as a finale for the day, the perps have arranged a fruit fly to dive bomb me in the face, a new fly behavior that they have added since this criminality began almost five years ago.

Time to call it a blog, and deal with getting to bed.

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