Sunday, March 18, 2007

Clinking on Cue

03-18-2007, 1150h
I have done my daily round of news trolling on the web, and it is always a noisestalked affair, in the form of the noisescape, the generalized noise, and the specifically targetted noise. In the latter case, upon reading the word "FBI", the glass bottle bashing sounded for one note. And as I wrote this, a hallway "resident" answered her cell phone only 5' from my door. It almost goes without saying that the cell phones seem to offer perp related benefits of a transient nature, likely the localized electromagnetic emissions. There are no end of them in my proximity, and that includes a call to the operative in the next door bathroom at 2315h last night, before her seeming shower, bath and toilet flushing act.

I got the double sentry honor guard for taking out my garbage last night. My garbage was a bonanza of some 10 boxboard toss-outs from the Cling Wrap (an objective of considerable harassment), chocolates, dental products etc. It was an all-time concentration of boxboard with the addition of the chicken packaging and the fat and bone that I took off the cooked bird when I got back from the grocery store yesterday. As I exited the front door, there was an operative ("rooming house resident") on either side of the stairway who then each turned by unified silent cue to enter the house via the front door that I opened. And strangely, the outside porch light was off when it is usually on.

And as part of that, the one operative who I am most familiar with of the two honor guards had a green shamrock painted on the side of this face that he turned toward me. This was the same as the house manager who had stopped by earlier in the day inquiring about my intent to give notice. In other words, there was a cover story over the St. Patrick's day celebration, and the green paint on their cheeks was part of the color exposure show that goes on interminably as one of the underpinnings of ambulatory and vehicular gangstalking. If this is where the assholes are at, painting shamrocks on their face once a year, then this depraved harassment has got a long run ahead of it, at least two more years by my reckoning, after five years of it so far.

A look at my email, even if spam, and the Inbox counter was meddled with to reflect a higher total than the extant unread email; observing this also got me a cell phone stalking in the hallway, only 2' away outside my door. I have yet to understand why the public hallway is a location for private banter. It as if this mentality is infectious as they all do this. Or more accurately, it is the orchestrated procedure for introducing specific noise (human voice) and commensurate electromagnetic activity within close proximity to me on a as-needed basis.

03-19-2007, 1350h
I am back to my room/cell after a Feral Family gangstalk time in front of the TV for dinner and later evening viewing. In that, I get to watch 60 Minutes, and that has to be one of the few regular shows that I see. But there were two shows from the UK, and the perps like me to hear British accents of all stripes, one of their obsessions.

I am getting the overhead clunking as I type this, and many of the words, especially nouns, seem to be of significant perp interest.

There were plenty of masers and plasma beams flitting around in the living room at my parents' place last night and both parents/quislings pretended not to notice anything. There were even off-TV plasma flashes as solid colors and a new variety, a checkerboard matrix about 2' in diameter.

I am getting a sustained noise flurry at the moment, and the plastic bag rustling and shaking is still going on in the hallway as I type this, and some throat clearing shills/operatives have arrived outside my room in the adjacent parking lot. (Meanwhile, I am getting severe typo sabotage as I key this in; it is a post Feral Family Visitation Monday, and the perps go apeshit with their stunts and noise games then).

For all my teabreak I was noisestalked, the most well timed was this absurd sudden onset squeak noise that they play, this one timed exactly to when I placed a square of chocolate in my mouth. It is at least the second such coincidence over chocolate eating this past week. And my outside noise crowd has now arrived, the throatclearing is a standard noise.

And left calf jabbing, as if a needle is being poked into the back of my leg from no ostensible cause, also with exquisite timing, for the exact moment I picked up the black plastic teapot lid. (The one they partially broke as they wanted the plastic to flap around more.) And I also have tea at my parents place from glazed stone pots, one is red and the other is blue. Surely that is enough teapot variation. Wrong, they are still fucking with every aspect of tea making and consumption, with the chocolate being its own perp interest, likely for its color. I noticed that an unglazed pot was "left behind" on the dining room table near where I sit, so there must be something about the glazes of pottery that is pissing off the perps. Once again, not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?

One can be sure that no perp has the gumption to account for themself and tell me, that I know.

And when I drove my parents' Ford Escape into town to then park and get out at this putative rooming house that I live in, there was not only a delay in my mother assuming getting to the driver's seat, but there was at least a two ring circus going on outside as I was seated in the driver's seat, engine off, and listening to her.

First was this ongoing clown show, under the cover story of being a donations charity only 30' away, the Women In Need (WIN) charity which sells used clothing and furniture. Their truck is usually posted on the street parking, and their operatives regularly play with brown cardboard boxes (just when I look out the window), plastic bags, racks of clothing, brown colored furniture etc., and take racks of clothing across the street and back to another storage area. They got into translucent blue plastic bag lugging at first, then moved two grey plastic tote bins across the road to the tailgate of their truck. For the second one, the operative "decided" to play a game, and jumped onto the wheeled tote and rode it as if it were an oversized skateboard. Intentionally, he "forgot" about the curb, and when the tote bin contacted it, he deliberately rolled himself off onto the sidewalk and the tote bin also flipped and dumped its contents of clothes onto the sidewalk. (This may have also served the perps' fixations around concrete and its energetics of human interactions). So there he was, splayed out on the sidewalk with these clothes on and around him. And it was quite clear that he deliberately rolled off, it was not a consequence of the tote bin hitting the curb.

There was that banality, but picking up the grey theme, there were two operatives on each side of the street, walking W. in parallel. On the S. side was a woman in a two tone grey shawl and hood combination garment, and on the N. side was a man in black pants and a black jacket with a large grey-black Adidas logo on the back. So it would seem, that the perps were testing the color grey, with some black reference colors, in the form of clothing on a male and female, and in the form of plastic (the tote bin) which was used to bridge the street between the ambulatory operatives.

Then when my mother got out at the driver's side but still seated with the open door, she then had a yellowish piece of paper in hand, and went into an explanation about how there was a weaving exposition on in a few weeks. As I saw it, this was about more delays in getting in and out of the vehicle, which are getting more pathetic, protracted and obvious from her actions.

Past readers will know that I get to see a considerable number of people egressing their vehicles at any given moment on the street. They are even getting more blatant about having all four doors open, leaving the trunk open, and otherwise lounging at their vehicles when this behavior never happened with this frequency before. On any given 15 minute walk along thoroughfares there is at least 10% of them with doors or trunk open. My mother's delays over vehicle egress are not unexpected; it fits the pattern of all the other shills and operatives.

More hallway aerosol spraying has started up, under the cover of "air freshener". Once my mother was uncharacteristically gung ho on me getting the plug-in kind for my apartment in Seattle when she never used them herself. I never did figure that one out until recent weeks, or more like, I was not allowed to recall that fact and make that association until my brain jailers let me in on what I would know if I wasn't being fucked with. Nor was I allowed to know this fact and figure out that she was in on this sick minded invasion and harassment until the script called for it, some 7 months later.

More clinking, clunking, door slamming, room shaking and other well timed noises for the past hour or so of troving through online world music. Back to the frat house model and the steady stream of "residents" tromping through the building. As this is the pre-mealtime moment, the perps like to lay on the noise at this time, always coordinated with the excitement (to them) of selecting, cutting, pasting (Windows actions) and bookmarking websites, in this case, music. Then they now have me do the same for cinema, bookmarking potential films should I ever be permitted to get out of "brain jail" and live an unfettered life.

And for real excitement, they plant the name of a film in a music review, and have me attend to both within the same activity. Truly the stuff of sick and depraved minds, the ones of the "grey stalking" earlier.

The perps got me, (read mind-fucked me) into a rare rage state again, as this is the Psychopathic Assault Mondays again. This is the day they "borrow" whatever they have learned in the stayover at my parents and are applying it here. Something like that. They flicked the cheese about (again), flicked chicken pieces, jabbed me in the leg and ass with a pin pricking sensation, flicked dishes water about in impossible trajectories, and noisestalked me the entire time. Currently, as I type this, they have started up the overhead clunking again, and seem to be using it on "my" stock phrases that I use. (More like, am allowed to use).

And they have also been keeping the vision assaults going, particularly my right eye, which seems to indicate that they want to temporarily remove it from the neural processing so that they can look at what else to detect in real time. Consistent with past Mondays, it will take at least an hour to get to sleep tonight, just to keep this vile depravity going for as long as they can.

The perps have me on cranked up mood tonight; they are at their forehead numbing games which I detest, and have taken to creating a knocking noise that somehow creates a vibration under my chair, vibrating all of me momentarily. And as I type this, the assholes have started someone talking on the cell phone outside my door. Fucking bizarre.

They have poured on the rain outside again, and this has some benefit for the assholes, though many past winters have been exceptionally dry.

The collective woo-hoos are also playing tonight; this is the putative male group who are watching sports on TV, and something exciting occurs to warrant the exclamation. The thing is, they are too well timed with the usual stalkable activities that I do, mouse clicking, page re-displays, bookmarking etc.

More ass jabbing as I am bookmarking promising world music artists. And because my PC's sound got taken out in the last repair of the two hard drives, I cannot sample them to affirm my intuition. That is the way it goes as a matter of course. And while doing this, a succession of operatives departed the building, all slamming the front door that serves as the cover story for shaking my room. There are at least four rooms between me and the front door, and it is most odd that none of them complain about room shaking and the putative cause. But of course, I am likely the only resident in here if the last apartment building was anything to go by.

The perps have launched a noise flurry, including a noisy mufflered vehicle under my window, and have it idling away, making noise and vibration. All this sprang forth as I was looking at concrete building systems. It has been noted in past blogs, where the perps put on a mound of fresh concrete and placed it on a flatbed truck for me to pass by. Later in the same day had a large capacity redi-mix truck execute a right angle turn in front of me when I was walking on the sidewalk. And while tonight's capers were going on, they also jammed smells up my nose. What is their problem that they cannot come out of the closet and negotiate a expeditious avenue to their game playing fuckery?

And considering how many concrete pouring jobs I have been involved with in past house improvements, it is unbelievable that this collection of clowns is still chasing me with redi-mix trucks around town. (They are a once per week frequency). I have long come to the conclusion that the perps are not only organizationally depraved, but fucking psychotic crazy.

It has been relatively quiet for the past hour, and the uninterupted use of my earmuffs probably helped, but as always, I am sure it is helping the perps more than me.

One recent advent has been the occasional flares of red colored plasma in my field of view, usually peripherial vision. It appears that they cannot get enough of that color in front of me, and only in selective exposures. Not a big deal at present.

This is enough tedious detail for a posting, and time to blog off.

No comments: