House Whacking in the Night

1235h
I stayed at my parent's place last night and watch the usual two programs with lots of British accents, a planted theme of the perps. Nothing grating at least.

I was allowed to get to sleep in short order, but was awakened in the night to hear something whacking the house in rythmic fashion. Later I was awakened again to hear my parents talking and for thoughstalking reasons. That is, while thinking about something, one of them would cough or say something, whichever was appropriate at the moment.

1545h
My afternoon tea and chocolate has been cancelled; that is, I have no interest in having the tea even if no chocolate is on hand. The latter is a highly managed food item, and is integral to the perp's brown color problem they inflict on me, and both my usual sources were "out of stock" last week. That includes straight milk chocolate and the variety with added hazelnuts, the permitted alternative. And since I have gone through spells of not even liking the smell of chocolate, I can be sure that the assholes are governing this trait as it fits in with their color planting plans.

And on that note, the usual Monday morning light gold-brown metallic colored sedan that arrives on Mondays was duly parked under my window, per usual. It must be at leas six Mondays in succession, with perhaps one other non-Monday visitation. I even was allowed to convey to the doctor last week about the scheduled Monday-only getting to sleep problems, and he asked why I thought it was happening. I gave him my best answer that Mondays are the day following a stay at my parents' place and that whatever benefits accrue from being harassed and surveilled there are likely being attempted here on the following day, right to the end of it by protraction of my awake time. Anyhow, it was interesting that the perps allowed this nonclinical gem to be supplied to the doctor as usually they have me "forget" anything of this nature in a clinical environment. That is, they don't (usually) want to hear about it, and therefore dither my situational capability in recalling unwanted information.

I read an interesting article in Nexus about transplant patients undergoing personality changes akin to that of the donor. This isn't anything too new as transplants have been going on for over 30 years (heart, lungs, kidneys etc.), except the author makes a statistical inference is that it is not a coincidence. Which is interesting, as somehow the perps might be reading these energies off of organs as well as my brain. That they put at least eight deep burgundy colored vehicles around me in one block of a two lane residental artery suggests that perhaps my heart is their current quest as it is the same color. Then another four of them clustered around me outside this place when I pulled in with my mother's Ford Escape. Then the brother comportment-like gangstalker/"resident" "happened" to walk in front of the vehicle while she was spinning a story about a possible outing next week, before I got out.

It was interesting earlier that my mother was talking about kidneys this morning, as a news story had launched this conversational item. Not that I am any expert, but it did cause me to wonder what the need was.

And it was also interesting that the perps hammered me with vision impairments when I first sat down at the table, whenever I looked across the table at no particular feature. And lo, if my mother didn't sit there, in the center of the location for which I earlier recieved vision impairments. It was the particular view that was impaired, as they backed off if I looked somewhere else.

And it seems that there is a magical scourge that is attacking toilet plungers in my proximity; over the past month the one here, and the one at my parent's place, have taken on a list, and the handles can no longer be kept vertical. Even inanimate objects are taking on a generalized "behavior" in my proximity. No doubt mine will have taken this on when I am allowed to spring it out of storage next month as part of the upcoming move. I am to give my notice this week, and take the plunge that desirable place will come up for rent in the next week. Nothing in the newspaper this past weekend.

And the housing coordinator phoned and asked about my house looking, and I told her nothing yet, and then she goes into raptures about how this was the best time to look as the student's are vacating apartments at term end. Well it so "happened" that is what I told her two weeks ago, when she suggested an April 15 end of tenancy which I was not too keen about. I then proposed the April 30 date, citing the aforementioned student turnover, and I asked for her validation, and she said she didn't know. Now she is singing the praises of an upcoming bountiful choice of availible apartments next weekend, the month-end, owing to the timing of student turnover. It is simply amazing how "my idea" (likely a planted thought) gets replayed back to me in glowing terms from someone who couldn't, or more likely wouldn't, validate it in the first place.

Regular readers will know that there is a component of this harassment called "generated coincidences", aka scenario or dialog setups. That is, a theme will come to mind, and often the words to use, in anticipation of an upcoming event. And when the event arrives, I typically find myself in a conversation where the (planted) thoughts and words are supplied as "my" contribution to the converstation. And other times, the theme is ignored entirely.

An example is the doctor's appointment past week which turned out to be relatively benign and no insulting games and other ruses to get me riled up. But, the week before that, they had me "discover" that the diagnosis of delusions requires some work on the doctor's behalf to ensure these events are not occuring. Well of course no doctor has done any spade work, even if I tell them there are books on gangstalking, and 18k Google hits on the topic, never mind the many web sites. So, the notion was that I would come out swinging in metaphoric terms in the doctor's appointment was planted; I would put the shoe on the other foot, and ask him for his research efforts as to what he had done to be sure that these events were not happening. As it so "happened", the doctor's visit was totally nonconfrontational, and was a cakewalk in that he ducked the issue of provability in advance by saying that he was prescribing medications that help me deal with the experiences I describe. Anyway, life is a constant mind game, some notions are planted to be disregarded, and some are planted to be discussed at length.

And sometimes this presaging of verbal content is managed to the very word, where I use a more obscure word which gets "jumped on" by the designated party, and I have no idea as to why they didn't understand its usage. I explain it, or define the word, and then they are OK with it. As the mind control extends to my vocabulary as of sometime in 2006, I don't worry about it now as it is all programmed exactly to what the script is.

1910h
I just finished commenting to another TI and that started the herd of operatives moving in the adjacent hallway, next door bathroom, loud muffered vehicles outside, the daily fan belt squeaking, again from outside, and the rest of the noisescape. And too, the select, cut and paste actions in Windows makes for a noise flurry as well.

And I read that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose of a prescribed substance that conflicted with other medications. I haven't done the homework to know what all of the medications are, but I surely there must of been a contraindication warning from her doctor. And, no less, she travelled with a nurse, and in addition, still somehow ended up with an infection from the hypodermic jab. As always, I am suspicious of all premature celebrity deaths, but as I am not there, I cannot make a call as to what exactly went on. She was an iconic blonde, if over the top, but she had a certain appeal in that she made her own success, even if brazen at times. But I do wonder, is there a certain attrition rate for iconic blonde women? Princess Diana in 1996, Marilyn Munroe in 1962, and none come to mind for the 1970's and 1980's. As I said before, if I were Paris Hilton, I would start to lie low and stay out of the limelight.

2100h
I got up for a drink of water from the gallon jug, which is located near the window. True to form, meaning 95% of the time when at the counter, there was a vehicle slowly cruising by outside, red and white lights glowing, and then it reversed as they often do. Once I got back to my chair, the assholes jabbed me with some kind of internal pain, large intestine area. I assume it all relates to their ass-jabbing activities, and the sensation of shitting undigested straw whenever I get to take a crap. They have no end of interest in all matters related to shit, and have gone to great lengths to make taking a crap an abhorent experience.

2145h
More motorcycle noise from outside; the perps like that long trail-off of sound (or decay) and use both the loud throbbing two cycle motorbikes (Harley Davidsons usually) and the higher revving four stroke typical Japanese motorcycle noise.

I am doing some reading on Alien Jigsaw by Kathrina Wilson which has some articles on mind control as well, and it seems the central question is one of nonconsensual experimentation; by aliens, or by ones own species. In each case, it is a life under duress as the author points out, though she didn't imagine the nature of been totally controlled with the entire city taking part in an ongoing charade, with the central character being kept in the dark as to what is going on, and all support being pulled, or else highly compromised.

Then to top it off, the perps launch into vision impairment activity, designed to stop me reading. But at the same time, they want me online and to flick through web pages for noisestalking coordination and whatever else they do.

For a Monday, this has been a fairly calm evening; I am getting plenty of furnace oil smell jammed up my nose, but not the usual 3 per 5 minutes of room shaking and the hallway jocularity or cell phone activity.

In the ongoing vehicular gangstalking that went on this morning when I drove my mother's Ford Escape to my place, there were the burgundy red vehicles I mentioned, and later in the journey they added a burgundy and sliver-grey combination Smart Car which are all the rage here. It seems that the perps were building a scale of small (Smart Car) to large (vans) of the burgundy color. I have never seen them do this in one journey so obviously, but it goes without saying almost, that I have also been "shown" plenty of motorcycles, sports cars, sedans, dump trucks and others in the range of scale they seem to be attempting for each color of interest.

And in the stupid driving realm, another first today; someone stopped in mid-street, oncoming with the passenger door open, just sitting there and not attempting to pull over to the curb where there was plenty of room. This was facing my parents' place 300m away, and if any traffic had turned from the nearby thoroughfare, they would of slammed into this absurdity. So it seems, that this stunt, looking like bozos gone wild, was carefully arranged for the idiots to pretend to be putzing in mid-road for the few minutes or so that they were in view. It did not surprise me that the vehicle was silver-grey, the most often used reference color, and that of my former Volvo, now driven by my sixteen y.o. daughter who can afford it. How's that for penury?

Time to call this one a wrap, and take on the consideration of tomorrow's events; it is an "outing day", Tuesdays as I go to the so-called "drop-in" center, which for all purposes is a gangstalk center. Last week, morph-overs of my father and brother were the first two fuckers to "greet me", even before I got into the house to sign in. Both these assholes had the same comportment as the respective individuals, hence my interpretation as being morphed-over family members. That they were there first, and before I got in the house suggests that these were the most important gangstalkers of the lot. In my view, both are fucking sick to be taking part in this protracted and vile depravity. I just hope I don't see them in any like form tommorow.